In this holiday month we were very pleased to see most of
our regular participants at our latest meeting, although a couple were
absent. As is our usual practice, during
our gathering we lit a candle for absent friends, in recognition of their
continued relationship with our group.
Our theme was “self honesty”. We spoke of a life-long ‘coming out’ that isn't about judging others but about being honest about ourselves. We reflected on being honest with ourselves,
and others, about what we think and feel.
About not protecting those we love from knowing they have hurt us, out
of our fear that they don’t care enough about us to change. About not protecting people in public (and hence ourselves too) from that
awkwardness that comes from making it clear their view isn’t shared, so as not
to inadvertently – or deliberately – protect them with silence. Manifestly, the path of self honesty is a hard path.
It is so easy to deny people the opportunity to access new
learning about and for themselves by reaching in and prescribing solutions
based on our own experience, perceptions and needs. An old teaching from the desert sages of
Egypt was that such denial usually has its source in inattention – not our
inattention to the other person, but inattention to ourselves, our assumptions,
our needs, our wounds and our blind spots.
A temptation to prescribe solutions for others should instead be seen as
an indicator that there is a solution needed for ourselves, and working
backwards from that, that there is a need or gap in ourselves that should be
addressed.
There is a well known story about three monks. After their first stage of training, the
monks were invited to choose their life paths.
The first chose to devote her life to healing the sick. The second thought there was a role for him
in mediation and peace-making. The third
chose the path of contemplation, and shut herself away from the world.
After some years the first monk was worn out with her
labours, and saddened by the very many deaths she saw, despite her best efforts
and application of the best medical techniques available. Exhausted, she needed to recuperate so she
went on a journey to find her friends.
On reaching the second monk, she found that he too was extremely weary. Despite his close attention to the words and arguments
of others and his rigorous shuttle
diplomacy, the second monk had found that he could never appease all aggrieved parties and
could not fix all the situations that presented themselves. He was easily persuaded to take a break and
to travel with his friend to find the third monk.
When the two companions completed the difficult journey to
the abode of the third monk they were so tired that they were just about able
to put one foot in front of the other.
Their friend looked up and saw them, then guided them to a small cave
with very basic living arrangements. She
motioned them to sit down, and sat down herself. Lifting a bowl containing dirty water that
she had just carried back from her well she placed it in front of them all, and
said simply: “Look at the water.” They
were so tired, they didn’t bother talking or asking, but merely followed her
instruction, and looked.
They saw that the water was mucky. They kept watching, and after a while the
silt in the water began to drop to the bottom, and the bits of twigs floated to
the top. Some considerable time later
the clean, clear nature of the water – the water that the monk needed to live – was evident. The third monk then said, “There is a benefit
in maintaining stillness in the face of all the distractions that the world can
place in your path. No matter our good
intent, in devoting ourselves to fixing the never-ending demands of the world we
lose the chance to fix the muddy nature of our own selves.”
