Happy 2025 Sapiens!
I recently participated in a retreat on Zen Koan meditation as a spiritual gathering.
Koans are an ancient method for addressing the question of ‘who we are’. Sometimes the format of a koan (\’kō-‘än\) is question-and-answer, but the answer is designed to shift your consciousness rather than answer the question. (From the PZI website)
The theme was Zen and the Goddess Part II: Psyche & Eros. I had not participated in Part 1. Kinda like the Goddess did not in most of history. 😂
The koan offered for our first sit:
Student: What is the sharpest sword?
Teacher: Each branch of coral holds up the moon.
The moment these words were uttered, two things happened - First, the wisdom in the teacher’s response moved over my being like a wave of peace, a remembering, a coming back to a changeless essence inside and around me. The branches of coral and the moon held together by an invisible umbilical cord imperceivable by the eye, but oh so obvious to the heart conveyed to me the interconnectedness from which no one and nothing is exempt.
Secondly, and contrastingly the other thing that flooded into my being was rage. Of how much more powerful this koan is with the context also part of the contemplation. The context of when the sapiens made this exchange in real-time is also presented. From my vantage point more than helping untangle the mind, this compelling exchange also teaches us the purpose of wisdom and ITS context together for homo sapiens today.
While I don’t have a history book to reference, here is what my heart sensed the context might have been. The first question was asked not by a student but by a warrior.
a japanese warrior. source
A warrior who is back after a war and feeling the natural angst any form of sentient life would feel after the thrill of victory subsides and the absurdity of bloodshed penetrates a heart without regard for who won and who lost.
Perhaps this warrior maimed a homo sapien and saw him slowly die on the battlefield and the image of that painfully slow death that he willed with his sword is killing him inside even though he is making merry with his comrades in a brothel.
The barmaid who serves him his 8th drink could feel his unspoken suffering every time he caught her eye for a refill. While bussing the rowdy victors and dodging their obscene remarks, in passing she winks at him and whispers the name of her aunt who lives up in a cave in his ear.
When the ale wears out a few days later and the pain returns, this warrior remembers her wink and then the name and makes haste up that mountain. The whole way walking to the cave his mind is trying to give this angst the shape of a question.
“What is the sharpest sword”? is what he comes up with. A question whose answer would reduce the suffering of those who meet his sword next time and ALSO the suffering of the heart that holds it.
Warrior: What is the sharpest Sword?
Old woman in the cave: Each branch of coral holds up the moon.
Perhaps our warrior has not returned from war but is the general of an army about to wage war facing enemies that look a lot like his cousins. And the question of ‘what is the sharpest sword?’ is an inquiry made by a sapien whose heart is in conflict.
Arjuna asking Krishna for guidance. source
The analogous situation that comes to my mind is from the Bhagavat Geeta, where the warrior prince Arjuna is facing his relatives across from him. Arjuna knows deep in his soul that his life purpose is to be the warrior who leads this war and his heart is in turmoil at the task of aiming towards his kin, knowing his shots won’t fail.
He is the most exceptional warrior trained by masters and his skill is unsurpassed and yet who life’s flow has placed as his target is making his thumb quiver on the string.
This ‘spiritual incongruence’ of two values that he held deeply being at odds with each other somehow makes him seek wisdom, not data. He makes haste towards Krishna, the wisdom-keeper of his time. His victory is certain, he needs not strategy or any more tricks to win, but needs inner congruence to calm his thumb.
Arjuna: What is the sharpest Sword?
Krishna: Each branch of coral holds up the moon.
Kurukshetra war found its end in 18 days. The number of deaths - 1,530,892 homo sapiens. Arjuna’s army won the war. He lost his son on the battlefield.
Draupadi (Arjuna’s wife): What is the sharpest Sword?
Arjuna: I don’t know.
On a recent Uber ride, the man I was being driven by was a Ukrainian immigrant. He shared with me stories of how his cousin lives on the Russian side of the war and his family lives on the Ukrainian side. While he did not say it, I sensed the same angst that the speaker of this question is expressing in this Koan.
I asked him, "How do you deal with this? Do you talk to your cousin?" His answer was deflective, and he mentioned how many of the stories they show on the media do not match the stories he hears from his family.
“The war is not as bad as they say” he said.
Russo-Ukrainian war has being going on for 10 years, 10 months and 4 days. Number of deaths - 1,000,000 homo sapiens estimated and counting.
‘Hmmm’. I exhale deeply.
I wish him and his family peace as I quickly step onto the curb from his Tesla while holding up traffic behind me.
Russian Soldier: What is the sharpest Sword?
His aunt on the Ukrainian side: I don’t know.
Maybe we will never learn interdependence as a species, and war will remain a constant in our lives and those of our children.
This thought makes my heart heavy. The rich traditions of samurai and warriors requiring spiritual training to reach the highest ethic were evidently ‘wise’ in their design.
The underlying soul cultivation that warriors went through to make them learn the distinction between an act of protection and an act of deception/vengeance has been forgotten. We live in a time where incongruence holds the trigger to guns and nuclear bombs, while wisdom is raped in the dark alleys of every country.
***
This recurring scenario of different values competing inside of us is the revered ‘flow of life’ in its perfect unpredictability forcing even the best of us to choose - power or love?
Recently I saw a spider on my wall whose mannerisms were unsual. As I tuned into this being, I felt this spider was unwell, he was dying.
I wondered “Maybe, I should kill it and end its suffering”?!
Some parts of me resisted this wondering. I was either doubtful of my nonverbal sensing or I felt hesitant to permit myself to kill it. This inner unresolvedness made me decide to let it be. But as I went about my day, this spider suddenly moved with seizures of what to me felt like pain and therefore it remained stuck in my heart.
When I woke up the next day, my attention immediately went to the spider. Its spot was empty.
“Oh, It is gone! It was fine.” I thought.
My next instinct was to check the floor around that spot and there I saw its body lying lifeless. My knowing was right. And my decision to let it be brought into my being a question about the act of choosing to bestow death as a form of mercy.
“It was suffering”, I thought, “I could have truly reduced its suffering.”
I became very aware of my capacity to kill. I instinctively felt my hands move towards my womb recognizing also contrastingly my capacity to give life.
As I saw that lifeless spider making me feel my capacity to kill and give life, something in me bowed in reverence to life taking its course with life. Time and whatever we call Spirit/God/Mystery had chosen the right moment for this life called this spider to cease to exist. It felt congruent.
It humbled me. It felt like my thought to end its suffering even though coming from empathy had hubris and for a flash of a second forgetting of what intelligence governs the choice of death and life truly! It right-sized my privilege to choose to bring life and death as a responsibility to participate in the flow of life and not the flow of my agenda. Between Spirit, me, and the spider the rank of command was made clear without words.
Kâli Sapien: What is the sharpest Sword?
Dead Spider: Each branch of coral holds up the moon.
Luigi Mangione’s choice to kill a sapien to serve the people of America and their right to healthcare comes into my mind next. And this koan breaks down for me here. It does truly. Wisdom is not enough anymore. CONTEXT is more important.
If I am honest while killing the spider had hesitation, in this context the countless stories of suffering because of greedy and corrupt (def here) CEO’s make way for a form of fierce love and rage to come into my being, enough that I am not ashamed to confess - I understand his choice.
Deeper still, there is a part of me that can feel a novel unease in the spine of every corrupt CEO in the US making them sleep slightly fearful and it feels sadistically good. 😨 It feels good in contrast to every woman that has loved a black sapien and uttered prayers under their breath the moment they left their sight.
I also feel the loss of the two children of Brian Thompson. And his wife. Is their loss and grief justified for the many who suffer in this nation?
Again I have to confess, yes, because Malcolm X’s widow gave birth to his twins after he had been assassinated. She grieved death and labored to bring life at the same time. George Floyd and Breonna Taylor left people with a hole of grief in their heart’s forever. Estimates suggest that around 4,000 Indigenous women and girls and 600 Indigenous men and boys have gone missing or been murdered between 1956 and 2016 (Source). Once sovereign and abundance-experiencing farmers have been deceived into seed dependence (Source) on companies and in the face of the accumulated debt burden at least 112,000 have committed suicide in the past decade in India (Source).
Based on who I am, the context of relationships I have had, and the stories of my ancestors, peers, friends, and family that have shaped my heartache, the answer is a shocking yes. 😱
Luigi Mangione: What is the sharpest Sword?
Kâli Sapien: A 3d printed one.
Luigi Mangione’s Mother & Brian Thompson’s Wife and kids, Russian Soldier & Ukrainian Aunt, Arjuna & Draupadi, Warrior & Barmaid, Student & Teacher all in unison: What is the sharpest sword of love?
Kâli Sapien: A truthful tongue.
The dead spider in my bedroom corner.