Inside Metta

by Shannon Wills

To the Metta community, the random reader, the seeker of nonviolent Truth…
I write to share with you a short story of what it feels like to be at Metta. I do not think you will be disappointed.
Step inside the Metta office. Find a cushion for yourself among the books and computers in various stages of use and over-use, and the plants, in various stages of growth and expression. This is a room well-worn for a good cause. You’ll see six or seven people doing work in a space fit for, um, three. And you will see on one wall, posted up with thumbtacks, a handwritten sign that reads, “We are not leaderless. We are leader-full.”
Listen to us talk over breakfast about news, nonviolence, and both of them together. Feel the tension and release in the air, as we challenge each other under pressure and work through the challenges together. Smile at the ways we all make each other laugh, for instance, challenging each other to speak “nonviolent” language (“I’ll shoot you an email” is simply not allowed to pass without sidelong glances and a few serious chuckles in our office). And sense the undercurrent, beneath the excited conversations, the secret revealed by those jokes and laughter: something is brewing at Metta, and that something is nonviolence.
Nonviolence is not just a word in our name; it is something you can feel here!
Gandhi, though certainly not our only model at Metta, is probably our most oft-cited exemplar of what it means to be a nonviolent warrior. He understood that nonviolence is its own source of power, and perhaps because of that, he called nonviolence “the weapon of the brave.”
Gandhi famously replied, when someone once asked him what message he wanted to share with his audience, “My life is my message.” When he said those words, he was not making a light statement. What on Earth does it mean to live a life that is a message? For Gandhi, it meant living a life in constant pursuit of the Truth, with nonviolence his tool and his chariot. Gandhi’s nonviolence is not passivity, and it is not for the meek. It is an action, one for the most courageous of souls, and it is not something you can know. It is something you have to do.
So when your “job” is to teach people about nonviolence, as it is for us at Metta, how do you do that? First of all, we’re finding, you have to be brave, even brave enough to admit when you have no idea what you’re doing! And then, you have to try to live the message.
We are not all experts in nonviolence here at Metta. Indeed, though we are sometimes quite adept at working with the concepts of principled nonviolence, other times we find we are learning it as we go, and we may even have to jump headlong into our fears and our deeply-conditioned habits in order to do it.
At Metta, as in life, we sometimes “hit a wall” and are left wondering where to go next. Human relationships and organizational imperatives are not all smooth, even in an organization based so consciously on respect and compassion. I tell you, it is not easy to be shown your assumptions repeatedly, to engage people when you want to avoid them, to speak up when you want to be quiet, to take responsibility when you want someone else to carry the load.
So when we run up against our beliefs, desires, and differing opinions, we continually have to check ourselves, to step back and allow ourselves to think of the most nonviolent option before proceeding. This is not merely a case of us asking ourselves, “What would Gandhi do?,” or something of the like. It is, rather, a watching, a patience, a natural response, developing organically out of this environment of pure inclusion, sincere nonjudgment, and deep dedication to compassion and truth.
Hence, we find ourselves suddenly doing nonviolence at Metta, in a way that has taken me, at least, by surprise. As one week dissolves into another and months of work accumulate behind and ahead of us, the time spent engaged in the work becomes more and more its own reward, a transformative force that teaches what no philosophy can. Nonviolence ceases to be a concept we promote, and becomes, simply, an experience.
Moreover, as I act out this “role” as a nonviolent warrior, I find that it is losing the character of a role, and is slowly beginning to show itself as a force born from my own nature. I have been utterly shocked when I have felt nonviolence coming through me as a result of my thoughts and actions. And it is not just me that is feeling this; I know that others at Metta have felt the same force coming through them, and we have felt it together, as we move through difficulties to places of expansion and creativity that astound us all. (When an administrative decision or a budget consideration can turn into a transformative interaction, well, you know you’ve really got something!)
Gandhi says, “My life is my message.” Please listen. Your life is your message, too. All of us, when we speak, when we eat, when we meet a stranger on the street, are potential instruments of nonviolence. We are doing it, or not doing it, all the time.
So, take our story. Create your own, or share with us (and everyone) a story you’ve already created. Find or build a sangha or fellowship, a group of people with the courage to act with nonviolence, to nourish you when you forget to do it, and to push you when you are not willing or able to push yourself. The cushions, the computers, the plants, the handwritten signs are not necessary to your success! But your bravery is. It is the weapon of the nonviolent warrior. And it is so worth it. Pick it up, and transform your life.