Narratives of Care

I’d like to take you to Nepal this morning. And I’d like to take you to a town outside of Kathmandu called Bhaktapur, an area called Bhaktapur. And for a moment, if you could imagine yourself in a small training center made of mostly cinder blocks and brick, and you’re inside a room, the windows are not that big so there’s not a whole lot of light. And it’s just after lunch. We have eaten dal bhat to our satisfaction – that’s lentils and rice – and the post lunch period is notorious for people falling asleep, so the people that are gathered are going to sing. A young man stands up and his voice lifts into the kind of singing that comes from his native area of Nepal, from his Tharu people. It has those sort of, what feel like quarter and eighth scales that we would say don’t quite harmonize, that somehow lilt their way up and down. And his lyrics are in his native language. Balluji. The melody bounces off the cinder blocks. It’s beautiful and then suddenly, he stops and deep in his throat a sob emerges. A deep guttural sob as if he has just broken down or is about to cry. Everybody in the room, whether they were listening or not, suddenly turned their heads to see what’s happening, expecting maybe tears, the song to end. But then, he picks up the melody and it goes again, and then the sobs, and then the melody, and then the deep sobs – huh, huh – almost a gasping…

This presentation was published as a book chapter under the same title in the book Integrating the New Science of Love and a Spirituality of Peace: Becoming Human Again, published by Cascade Books.