by Anna Brown

How long have I been so at ease when other human beings in the world are suffering? This question was with me as I stood, dressed in an orange prison uniform and hood, atop a fountain at Dupont Circle. We stood in silence and with our signs, "Shut Down Guantanamo." I was just beginning to feel the effects, e.g., slightly lightheaded, grumbling stomach, fatigue, etc., of not having had anything to eat since noon on Sunday. Both the silence and the discipline of the fast prompted my question, which has remained with me throughout the day.

Kicking off the nine-day Fast For Justice. January 11, 2009.

I realized that the search for my own well-being is often a preoccupation of the first degree. When I devote my energies to this "work," the well-being of others, even those who are suffering greatly, becomes something that I may not think of all that much. Well, this was a sobering realization, but one that I was most grateful for at this moment. The work of the fast is not so much self-deprivation as it is the work of self-awareness. It is something that Etty Hillesum, who kept a daily journal, considered to be of utmost importance if we hope to be of any help to another. Hillesum, known as the "thinking heart" of the Nazi-run Westerbork internment camp, was able to see that there was no difference between being "in the camp" and being "outside of the camp." Her depth of insight is staggering but more so her incarnation of that insight. By all accounts, she was a radiant light amidst the darkness and misery of camp conditions.

In the book of Hebrews, we are asked to pray for those being tortured as if "you are being tortured." It's been the practice of sitting with Sister Ichi in the Buddhist Tample, our WAT headquarters and residence for the fast and the 100 Days Campaign, which has prompted me to attend to what this particular passage in Hebrews asks of us. Ichi's early morning practice of chanting and drumming has helped me to experience the sound of the chant, the sound of the drum, and then, "just chant and just drum" and then "just this, now." Where did the "self" go in all of this? Nowhere, it is still there but, oh, is it nothing that I had ever thought it could be. When a brother in Guantanamo is being tortured, I am being tortured--Hebrews is right on.

Despite a grumbling stomach, I am feeling energized by the work of sitting, fasting, and witnessing against torture. I love this process of learning, of living in community, of nonviolent resistance and of feeling fully alive in the work. I know that there is no other place for me than to be here during this week. I know also, when we are fully present in life and in one another, the walls of Guantanamo have already tumbled down. Hopefully--and I realize with great effort--our nation's policies will embody this insight.