These two questions—what do we do and how do we do it?—are central to the conversation surrounding reparations to Indigenous communities and nations for treaties broken and land stolen. Several years ago when members of Unity Church-Unitarian began a conversation with Rev. Jim Bear Jacobs (Mohican) of Healing Minnesota Stories about efforts to restore and maintain Indigenous language, culture, and land, the idea of “land back” remained elusive, something we would figure out years from now. However, today reparations can take on many forms well beyond the singular view of returning the land on which Unity sits to a Dakota community and leasing it from them.

The Coalition to Dismantle the Doctrine of Discovery and its Repair Network are spearheading efforts to pass a surtax on Minnesota real estate sales to support Indian programs run by Indian people. The proposal is called the Indian Recovery Act or IRA. Here is an overview of the plan to be introduced during Minnesota’s 2025 legislative session:

• Concept: A fund financed by a 0.05 percent surtax on all real estate transactions.
  Example: a $250,000 sale generates $125.
• Potential yield: $25-40 million accrued annually, based on sales of recent years.
• Beneficiaries: Any and all of Minnesota Indian communities.
• Potential uses: Renewal of language and culture; education; health services; purchase of land; community and heritage centers.
• Proposals: Any Minnesota Indian nation or organization may submit proposals to an oversight board.
• Administration: The Indian Land Tenure Foundation (ILTF), a national, community-based organization serving American Indian nations and people, based in Minnesota.
• Process: Build support among Indian tribes, individuals, religious and other organizations via informational presentations and volunteer activities.

​This proposal is the culmination of work by Dakota and Ojibwe tribal councils and their allies. Originally intended to be introduced during the 2024 Minnesota legislative session, the parties involved determined the original bill needed some tweaking, and would fare better during a non-election year. The delay gives us extra time to help build support for the IRA. For additional information, contact the Repair Network’s Legislative Team at [email protected] or call 612-440-4526. They are looking for volunteers to speak at churches and other faith communities, write letters of support, testify before legislative committees (when the time comes), and other tasks that will move the IRA forward.

As Che-Espinoza, one of my pillars of spiritual foundation, writes:

​I think it’s safe to make the generalization that for many of us who find ourselves in a liberal theological community, one of the most difficult tasks asked of us is to develop a spiritual practice. And don’t even get me started on my (and probably others’) struggle with developing a prayer practice; that’s for another newsletter. Thankfully, we find ourselves here at Unity Church with a plethora of circles, sources, events, and publications to support that task. But even with all those resources, the learning never stops, so I joined the late-February follow-up to the fall 2023 series Spiritual Practice: Discovery and Transformation, with Rev. KP Hong to continue my dive into spiritual practice.

​If you are contemplating these questions, you are not alone: 

It can be overwhelming to know what a practice can look like that fulfills within, among, and beyond needs. 

During the February event, KP reminded us of the core definition of spiritual practice: it’s how we connect to the whole, the holy, that which is greater than the self and greater than the ego. He also reminded us of the unbreakable bond between spiritual practice and antiracist practice. We cannot think to dismantle racism without the transformation a spiritual practice provides to us to connect to that which is greater. This intertwining is seen in the Double Helix Model in which spirituality and antiracist work at the within, among, and beyond levels to break down white supremacy.
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We were asked to consider these questions as we shared what our practice looks like: 

Of all my spiritual uncertainties, I’ve always known that nature has been, and always will be, my connection to that which is greater because it is the realm in which I’ve experienced the most awe: the pulsating of an aurora borealis, waves lapping against rocks, and a Cooper’s Hawk raising its young in our backyard silver maple. A spiritual practice for me is anything that brings me outside.

We were then asked to name our antiracism practice and to look at how it and our spiritual practice come together to support each other. And if it was hard to name how the two support each other, are there adjustments to be made to increase that support?

That’s where I find myself: ruminating on the adjustments. I feel a connection between my roots in nature and an antiracist practice of acknowledging how environmental destruction is a white dominate act. However, I don’t yet know how to clearly define that thread to someone else. 

This idea of spiritual and antiracism practices supporting one another follows a theme. The disconnections we often experience in our capitalist society that does not value spirituality, rest, community, art, face-to-face communication, or humanity as a part of nature, lead to other-ing and barriers. We put up barriers thinking that we need protection between the “other” and the “self.” 

Within the “self,” even more barriers go up to create separations of the body, the mind, the persona, and the ego. When all these barriers become impermeable, it easy is for us to see ourselves as separate from the “other.” That’s how we find ourselves in these problems: racism, environmental destruction, individualism, and burnout. If we are unable to move through these boundaries to see ourselves as connected to the “other,” the disconnection leads us to see a race different and as less-than. It leads us to see humans as having dominium over nature rather than as a part of it. Disconnection ends in destruction. 

But spiritual practice is the key to rebuilding those connections.

Maybe you’re thinking that seems a bit overblown: “My spiritual practice can’t really hold that much weight; all I’m doing is going for a walk or sitting on a meditation cushion.”

That’s where the February event culminated: not only should your spiritual practice be about the space to transform the self, the within, it should serve to transform the other, the beyond. The final question hints at that: Does your spiritual practice bring you comfort, or does it bring you to connections you’re uncomfortable with?

The call to action is the answer you and I are trying to find: If your spiritual practice pushes you to connect with something you’d rather avoid, to discomfort, that is your spiritual practice.

Who would have thought Transforming Conflict, the workshop led by Rev. Dr. Terasa Cooley on February 3, would be woven with so many different shapes of tenderness, lightness, and playfulness? 

The first big laugh burst in Parish Hall when one of the bullet points showed “No Return to ‘Normal.’” How many times have conflicts that I experienced arisen from my refusal to embrace the transforming potential of changes? In my way was the false brief that these changes served no chance as evolutional pivot points but only broken promises to “my good old days.” 

Especially in a group setting, even though I never say these words aloud — “We just don’t do that” or “We always do things like that” — I can no longer deny that these thoughts are exactly my go-to reactions when facing conflicts. Then, my tendency has been to cut the conflict short and walk away.

Before this workshop, I always thought my aversion to conflict was deep-rooted, and I had plenty of reasons to justify it: I grew up in China where all kinds of “saving face” conversation strategies lubricate the harmony of the society; I am a Libra, a natural peace seeker, and a people pleaser. Dr. Terasa inspired a willingness in me to cultivate the required taste for the deep flavor of conflict. Perhaps the first step to uproot my bias against conflict is to normalize the conflict.

When I learn to look deeper into the uniqueness of each person with what Dr. Terasa called “holy curiosity,” I can transform my uneasiness into openness while listening to different voices and learning something. 

There are no difficult people, only different people. There are no difficult conversations, only different conversations. 
Put another way, to normalize conflict is to normalize difference. And difference here is not something that needs to be adjusted, aligned, or fixed, but to be encouraged and celebrated. 

One of my favorite quotes from Dr. Terasa at the workshop was, “You are part of us not because you act like us.” Her famous saying, “I see you. I care about you. I want to learn from you,” was like a mantra, repeated several times during the workshop, and it resonated with me every time. 

Conflicts that I used to perceive as “difficult” are an invitation for me to practice deep listening and to build deep connections with others, even if they have different interests; sharing the interests of others is a profound learning experience. The interests of other people may interest me, too! 

In my own culture, the first character in Chinese for conflict 冲 also means “to splash amid the waterfall.” What a lively and poetic scene of natural force! Could conflicts be as normal as the ever-flowing water in nature? When meeting uneven territory, water creates more wonder than stagnation, like a waterfall with amazing dancing and singing. 

In this sense, conflicts especially latent conflicts, are vital signs that manifest energy and the dynamic of relationships and organizations. They are life-giving opportunities for me to adapt, change, and transform into something beyond my own small self. After all, what is a 100% conflict-free zone? A dead zone. 

Another memorable laugh happened in the workshop when Dr. Terasa jokingly described some people in conflicts as “highly amygdalated.” She explained that part of the amygdala in our brain elicits a simple black-and-white reaction: danger vs. no danger. Because it bypasses complex cogitations, the by-product is a false sense of urgency. In a societal conflict, not only do I see danger as losing and safety as winning, but also, I want to win now. Unfortunately, the amygdala-hijacked version of us always has the loudest voice speaking in ways that silence others, or stays silent when I need to speak up.

That’s why building my amygdala awareness is so important. Once I notice my amygdala is activated, I can consciously bring back my authentic self by applying some soothing strategies like breathing out longer than breathing in, in a steady rhythm, and sending calming messages to my brain that I am in a much safer place than what my nervous system tells me. 

The whole workshop was packed with many strategies and tools for transforming conflicts, but I found that approaching with a beginner’s mind offered a fresh view of conflicts that allowed me to lean in and cherish the learning opportunity in each conflict. 

F. Scott Fitzgerald once said, “The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function.” The biggest takeaway from the Transforming Conflict workshop was to “make complexity a friend.”