A few days ago, I gave a talk at the latest gathering of the International Thomas Merton Society called
 “Making Ourselves Heard: Lessons from Merton’s Approach to Principled 
Dissent and Communal Renewal.” When it came time for questions, the 
first one wasn’t about Merton but about Lax: “Was Lax political at all?”
 I gave the answer I’ve given before: Lax was political in that he believed deeply in peace. In other words, the pursuit of peace was his politics. He started his broadside Pax to promote the idea that simply disseminating poetry and art is an act of peace.
But as I’ve continued to think about the question, I’ve realized that in
 today’s context, Lax was political in many other ways as well. He had 
an absolute belief in nonviolence, even in extreme situations. He 
believed that those who oppose violence should eliminate it, in all 
forms, from their own life first. He believed that finding common 
language is a step toward finding common purpose. He believed that peace
 starts with individuals trying sincerely to communicate with each 
other. He believed that people should be free to do what they feel moved
 to do, as long as it is in harmony with others. And he never 
gave up hope, even when things looked bleak. At a time when I saw 
conflict everywhere, he saw the possibility that turmoil and unrest 
might lead to progress and new freedoms.
“I’m hopeful,” he said to me, “that the world’s societies are caught up 
in an evolutionary moment, one that will bring us into the ideal city, 
where music will play and all will move to it. If you decide to put on 
all blue clothes and do cartwheels across the square, that will be fine 
and in time with the music.”
Above all, he believed that we should make every decision consciously 
and carefully, slowing down and even stopping—waiting—until we can 
discern what is best for all concerned. I suspect that if we did nothing
 more than slow down in this country, waiting for discernment before we 
act or speak, the peace we think is impossible now might soon appear on 
the horizon, however hazy.
“In every moment,” Lax said, “we make decisions, both large and small. 
True life comes in understanding that these decisions are of ultimate 
importance.”
And isn’t it true life we seek, rather than some temporary victory, moral or otherwise?
“I think we will steadily become more receptive
to what love really means. There will be a
collective understanding of where we came from,
where we are, and where we are going.
I feel that we will increasingly sense a greater
interconnection and unity with the whole of existence,
and so we will become more gentle, more intuitive,
more caring, more giving, more loving as a result.”
–Robert Lax to Steve Georgiou (p. 242, The Way of the Dreamcatcher)
