The Philosophy of Being by Nina Bingham
As I struggle to fall asleep, to "be" instead of "do," I am flooded with "shoulds" which threaten to steal, or at least, poison my peace. Barraged by a "to-do" list which is relentless and insistent, marching like an army through my mind, I pop a sleeping pill and hope for the best. Something has to put the "breaks" on the wheels turning endlessly in my head. Perhaps you've heard the saying, "I slept like a baby?" I'm envying that innocent ability children have to flop in bed and seconds later to be sound asleep. Children don't "toss and turn" unless something's bothering them. As I begin to feel groggy and slightly more relaxed I think, "What's bothering me that I can't relax when I want to?"
Being Vs. Doing
As adults, our days are jammed-packed with work, school, family and social commitments. So full that there are drive-through restaurants so we can gulp it down in the car while we talk on the speakerphone, all while driving (oh come on, I've seen you do it!). Back at work, we type emails while simultaneously talking on the speakerphone. At the grocery store, we shop and talk because thanks to the earpiece. At the gym, we workout while watching TV, or enjoy our favorite music piped in through ear buds. The point is, we are a society of multi-taskers. Americans prize efficiency because it leads to greater profits. The belief is: Do more and you'll get more. Our society is one of "doers." Like worker ants, we take our morning coffee in a commuter cup, hurry to work so we can produce, produce, produce, so we can hurry back home in time to gobble something for dinner, so we can get to the next activity on our agenda. At night, though we should be exhausted, we lay awake and rewind the problems of the day which increases our anxiety, until we have to resort to a sleep aid. Tomorrow morning, the cycle begins all over again. Our society believes that being unproductive (what I will refer to from this point on as "being") is a drag on society. The philosophy is: if you want to get ahead, don't get caught standing still. So we madly rush ourselves and others. We push ourselves and others. In the quest to produce, we view one another less as human beings, and more as "objects" to be manipulated. We don't intend it maliciously; we're just trying to get ahead of the next guy.
Equinimity
Buddhists have a belief about how life should be lived, and it is encapsulated nicely in one word: equanimity. The word means: all things being held in balance by a check and balance system. The dictionary defines it as: "Evenness of mind, especially under stress" (merrium-webster.com). The simplest synonym might be: even-tempered. Imagine the evenness of balancing perfectly on a balance beam, or treading water so you are buoyant. Perhaps you've seen a person balance a load upon their heads seemingly effortlessly? These are physical demonstrations of equanimity. Equanimity is not a physical term. It refers to a state of mind, or a "being-ness" vs. a "doing-ness". The word itself sounds like the word "equal," meaning balance. Maintaining balance is a prerequisite to how equal you treat another. If I have an image of myself as a "doer" than when others around me are "being," I might envy it, or the opposite, I might denigrate it. Many people have no relationship to "beingness" and do not know how to feel or what to do when they're required to simply "be."
A common Buddhist meditation practice is to silent retreat for a weekend, or an extended period of time in which the participants learn to appreciate quiet, and to still their busy minds through the practice of silent meditation. They greet one another in silence, eat together in silence, and meditate together in silence. They are training in being instead of doing. They are learning to welcome and honor serenity, and thus, find their center place, their equanimity.
There are people who, if they had to attend a silent retreat, would rather do just about anything else. It is because they have no relationship with equanimity. To them, the "doers" of the world, silence is a senseless waste of time. For these task-masters, learning to balance their doing with healthier doses of being is vitally important. What happens when the brain and body are not allowed to rest, recharge and stop processing is the early breakdown of the mechanism. You wouldn't expect a car to operate unceasingly, would you? Eventually, heart attack, hypertension, stroke, cancer, and brain problems begin to get our attention. If it hurts bad enough, eventually even the toughest "doer" has to listen.
Wise Up
Wisdom is the blend of experience and knowledge applied. We can tell our children to eat their vegetables and don't smoke, but when we ourselves have experienced a brush with cancer, then we have hard-won wisdom about it. This is the difference between knowledge and wisdom. Knowledge is learned, wisdom is lived. Knowledge boasts, "I know." Wisdom just nods its head and smiles. When you are wise, you have internalized the knowledge. It is part of you, like a vitamin or mineral you absorbed. People who are wise do not feel they have to prove or pretend they are wise. Have you ever noticed that the older people get, the less they tend to be verbal and the more they listen? I heard it said, "God gave us two ears and one mouth for a reason." When you are at peace internally, you will be at peace externally. Life isn't chaotic; life is whatever we make it. If our lives have become "unmanageable," it is not because everyone experiences it that way. It's time to wise up when we've lost our equanimity. If we've lost touch with our peaceful, quiet selves, our creative, carefree selves, be assured we've projected the resultant impatience and irritation onto others.
The Art of Being
Being comfortable with being is an art form. I say this because it is in being, not in doing, that we express the finest parts of our humanity. When we are relaxed, at-ease, being mindful, present and aware, it is a graceful expression of our gratitude for life. Funny that the word "dis-ease" means an illness. When we are most ill at ease, we are stressed, and too much stress eventually manifests in physical and/or mental illness. For the worriers among us (I'm raising my hand), for the producers, accomplishers and over-accomplishers, how in this mad, mad world do we put ourselves in low gear, and how long should we stay there?
R and R
Rest and relaxation. They can look like different things for different people. It relaxes me to write, so I commonly cozy up in bed and write up a storm. Other people exercise to relax; they need that physical release and the endorphin rush. Others spend time with their family, pets, listening to music, tending the garden, or conversing with a friend. Many people find television relaxing. Some create art or enjoy crafts, or building things. Others have to "get out of town" to let their hair down. Others find socializing at a dinner party or dancing wonderfully liberating. The point is, when life becomes all work and no play, it's time to use our "wise mind" (Linnehan), and give ourselves permission to explore our lighter side. When's the last time you laughed until you cried? Couldn't stop smiling even though your face hurt? Life is not a "rat-race," and we are not rats! The encouraging thing about life is that it can be as busy or quiet as we allow it to be. We are the architect of our own lives. If you're not "sleeping like a baby" anymore, perhaps you could benefit by a rest from responsibilities that will allow you to have a day (or even a few days) of play.
Conclusion
In review, the magic of being is that in rest, in repose, there is no "earning" our keep, or striving to "get ahead." There is no justification necessary for taking space on the planet. You deserve to rest, just as you should accomplish. Being is the "other side of the coin" of doing. The philosophy of doing says: More is better. The philosophy of being says: Enjoy what you already have. Give yourself permission to be in the moment and give thanks for what you have.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Breaking Down The Walls Keeping Us From Intimacy by Nina Bingham
Breaking Down The Walls To Intimacy
Think for a moment about the most intimate moments of your life. By intimate, I mean moments when you let your guard down, allowing another person close enough to see the real you, all of you. Perhaps you recall a romantic moment, your wedding vows, looking into your newborn's eyes for the first time, or any other emotionally-charged circumstance when you allowed another human being to trespass the gates of your soul. These powerful points of contact are nourishing because we are sharing ourselves with another. We are risking, by becoming vulnerable. We are melting the barrier and trusting another to reciprocate with kindness and tenderness. We have dropped the everyday facades we wear in favor of exposing the "real" us; imperfections and all. What makes intimacy meaningful is that it requires another reciprocating human. Intimacy implies reaching out to another vulnerable person, and trusting them to reach back. For most people, their most profound intimate moments happen with lovers or close family. For me, it happened in a crowded room with strangers.
Seeing Eye To Eye
A decade ago I had a friend who was a New Age enthusiast, who persuaded me to participate in a weekend-long self-actualization training course. On the first day, to break down the barriers between the participants, they had us stand in two lines facing each other, about two feet apart. They instructed us not to talk or touch one another once the bell rang. They said we were to look into each others eyes without diverting our gaze for two minutes, at which time the bell would ring, and we were to move on to the next person. The room was instantly filled with gasps, snickers and groans as we contemplated looking into the eyes of a complete stranger for two minutes. Immediately the bell sounded, and the deafening silence began. Instantly I felt incredibly nervous, uncomfortable and mildly violated. What was the person seeing in me? What were they thinking about me? I couldn't wait for the bell to ring! When the chime sounded, I shifted to the next person. This time it seemed a little easier. The room seemed lighter; people were giggling and smiling. It was seeming less scary and not so serious. My partner and I were having trouble not laughing out loud. Hey, I thought, this isn't so bed after all. Soon the chime sounded, and I stepped to greet another partner. The longer I gazed into people's eyes, the less they felt like strangers, and the more it felt like we were partners, in this together. After 10 minutes of eye gazing I began to be aware of not the "us" feeling, but finally, the individual before me came clearly into focus. The saying, "Eyes are a window to the soul" became true for me. I didn't notice the color of their eyes, or their facial contours or their hairstyle. It didn't seem to matter if they were young or old, male or female, because all I was seeing was their soul. The room's atmosphere had transformed from nervous to sacred. With each successive partner, I began to see uniquely beautiful characteristics: some souls were joyous and effervescent, some were passionate and fiery, some were wise and consoling, and some were youthful and energetic. With people who had, minutes before been complete strangers to me, I was witnessing a spark of life inside of them, which was showing me, in a way I have never been able to fully comprehend, their unique brilliance and beauty. I noticed tears trickling down my face, and heard the others sniffing and softly weeping, too. Something was happening to us. We were breaking down the walls which usually keep us apart by making genuine contact with one another. Standing there I remember wondering, "Why have we all been so afraid of each other?"
We're All In This Together
Psychologists tell us humans have the same basic needs; essentially, humans crave the same things (Maslow). Since fundamentally we have the same needs, when then are we so hesitant to make meaningful contact with one other? The strangers who, for that special weekend became my friends, were very diverse: males and females, young adults to seniors, some poor and others affluent, some with minimal education and others with college degrees, and varying ethnicities. However, looking in each others eyes that day, those socially constructed divisions melted away. All we saw, after we worked through our self-consciousness, was a reflection not unlike ourselves. It was like looking in a mirror. We cried because we were astounded and relieved to find that there was nothing to be afraid of after all. All the differences that seemed so important before the eye gazing had simply evaporated, as if it had been a figment of our imagination, or a bad dream. The tears fell because we were amazed at the unguarded gift each soul was offering us, and because we had been such blind fools not to see it before.
Out With The Old, In With The New
It's a strange experience to find intimacy with a room full of strangers. It's an even stranger thing not to have it with the people in our lives. In order to be closer to the people we care about, to "let down the walls," it is a prerequisite to see these people anew, to appreciate them for their good attributes, as well as the bad. We build walls which prevent us from recognizing all of the other person. We get focused and transfixed on what's gone wrong, and that's the only lens we can see them through. To "update" our perspective is essential to being able to see others for who they really are. There isn't any hope of renewal if we are using outdated "glasses" to view them with.
Our Own Worst Enemy
As I described, initially in the eye gazing exercise, the participant's reactions were: fear, dread, nervousness, and embarrassment to the point of mortification. All these reactions could fall under the heading of self-consciousness. When we are self-conscious, we have split ourselves into the performer and the observer (Perls): "The pathological phenomenon of self-consciousness is differentiation into performer and spectator has occurred." Simultaneously we feel pressure to perform, or respond correctly, while another part of our mind observes as a critic would. When we are self-conscious, there is no room for anybodys opinion except our own. We do this so as to divert our attention from what others might think about us, to what we think about us. After all, we unconsciously reason, if I am the harsh critic of myself first, others will take pity on me, and not be as harsh with me. Being self-conscious is being our own worst enemy, because our criticisms are usually much worse than others would be. The person who suffers from self-consciousness is listening to the relentless voice of the Superego (Freud), or in Gestalt Therapy, it is called the Topdog. It is a superior voice which makes unattainable demands of perfection. People with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder are barraged by the orders of a hyperactive Topdog who is relentless, and won't cease it's demands until the sufferer has performed the rituals obsessively. Maybe you've never thought about how obsessive thoughts and self-consciousness are connected, but they have in common a relentless task-master and tyrant who demands perfection. Intimacy requires putting aside self-conscious behaviors, and staying in contact long enough to break through the all-consuming ego centrism which is self-consciousness.
Seeing Past The Meat Suit
I heard a Quantum Physicist refer our bodies a "meat suit" (Byrne). He said, "If you think you are just a "meat suit" running around, you're wrong." He explained how our bodies are mass, but that mass, on a molecular level, is unstructured energy (M=mc2). Though we wear bones and skin and dress it up, on a molecular level, we are all the same. We are composed of energy which cannot be destroyed. Because we are composed of constantly changing cells, our "meat suits" will look different 10 years from now, and much different 20 years from now. The point is, to judge by the "meat suit" someone wears today is to believe only what you can see. What you can't see is the person's energy fluctuating and evolving, changing even as you read this. To judge others by how they appear on the outside is a slippery slope, because not only will their body change, but the brain is constantly revising itself (called "plasticity"). Therefore, if you base your acceptance of others on their looks, or even what they think, you're asking to be disappointed. Whoever you think is "perfect" now cannot, as hard as they may try, escape the relentless march of time. Once you can see beyond the clothes, hairstyles, gender and ethnicity of others, you might have a chance of actually perceiving THEM.
The Gem
During the eye gazing exercise, once I had overcome my self-consciousness, I could see the soul within the person. It seemed to me like a sparkling gem. A gem which was clear in it's viscosity and sparkled with unique attributes all it's own. Like a fingerprint or a snowflake, no two souls were alike, except that they all appeared as sacred gems to me. They each had a distinct color and vibrational energy. I remember thinking that each soul was priceless.
The Pearl of Great Price
A pearl, like a gem, is precious. It's valuable. In Christ's time, living among fisherman, pearls were a known commodity. There's a story Jesus told about a man going and selling all he had to buy a field where a pearl of great price was hidden. This Bible story is referred to as "The Pearl of Great Price." While Bible scholars have interpreted this story many ways, and most believe the pearl represents salvation, I think Christ could have been saying that we must look to find the goodness in others. Kind of like a pearl buried in the dirty field, or a gem buried deep inside the eyes of another person.
Conclusion
Intimacy requires us to invest something of ourselves. To be willing to risk. To wade in a little deeper in our relationships. It all begins with a willingness to be willing. Next time you're feeling alone, look into someone's eyes and really see them, as if for the first time, and then allow yourself to be seen. Realize this type of human contact is nourishing to the soul--both for you, and for them. See, it wasn't so hard after all.
Think for a moment about the most intimate moments of your life. By intimate, I mean moments when you let your guard down, allowing another person close enough to see the real you, all of you. Perhaps you recall a romantic moment, your wedding vows, looking into your newborn's eyes for the first time, or any other emotionally-charged circumstance when you allowed another human being to trespass the gates of your soul. These powerful points of contact are nourishing because we are sharing ourselves with another. We are risking, by becoming vulnerable. We are melting the barrier and trusting another to reciprocate with kindness and tenderness. We have dropped the everyday facades we wear in favor of exposing the "real" us; imperfections and all. What makes intimacy meaningful is that it requires another reciprocating human. Intimacy implies reaching out to another vulnerable person, and trusting them to reach back. For most people, their most profound intimate moments happen with lovers or close family. For me, it happened in a crowded room with strangers.
Seeing Eye To Eye
A decade ago I had a friend who was a New Age enthusiast, who persuaded me to participate in a weekend-long self-actualization training course. On the first day, to break down the barriers between the participants, they had us stand in two lines facing each other, about two feet apart. They instructed us not to talk or touch one another once the bell rang. They said we were to look into each others eyes without diverting our gaze for two minutes, at which time the bell would ring, and we were to move on to the next person. The room was instantly filled with gasps, snickers and groans as we contemplated looking into the eyes of a complete stranger for two minutes. Immediately the bell sounded, and the deafening silence began. Instantly I felt incredibly nervous, uncomfortable and mildly violated. What was the person seeing in me? What were they thinking about me? I couldn't wait for the bell to ring! When the chime sounded, I shifted to the next person. This time it seemed a little easier. The room seemed lighter; people were giggling and smiling. It was seeming less scary and not so serious. My partner and I were having trouble not laughing out loud. Hey, I thought, this isn't so bed after all. Soon the chime sounded, and I stepped to greet another partner. The longer I gazed into people's eyes, the less they felt like strangers, and the more it felt like we were partners, in this together. After 10 minutes of eye gazing I began to be aware of not the "us" feeling, but finally, the individual before me came clearly into focus. The saying, "Eyes are a window to the soul" became true for me. I didn't notice the color of their eyes, or their facial contours or their hairstyle. It didn't seem to matter if they were young or old, male or female, because all I was seeing was their soul. The room's atmosphere had transformed from nervous to sacred. With each successive partner, I began to see uniquely beautiful characteristics: some souls were joyous and effervescent, some were passionate and fiery, some were wise and consoling, and some were youthful and energetic. With people who had, minutes before been complete strangers to me, I was witnessing a spark of life inside of them, which was showing me, in a way I have never been able to fully comprehend, their unique brilliance and beauty. I noticed tears trickling down my face, and heard the others sniffing and softly weeping, too. Something was happening to us. We were breaking down the walls which usually keep us apart by making genuine contact with one another. Standing there I remember wondering, "Why have we all been so afraid of each other?"
We're All In This Together
Psychologists tell us humans have the same basic needs; essentially, humans crave the same things (Maslow). Since fundamentally we have the same needs, when then are we so hesitant to make meaningful contact with one other? The strangers who, for that special weekend became my friends, were very diverse: males and females, young adults to seniors, some poor and others affluent, some with minimal education and others with college degrees, and varying ethnicities. However, looking in each others eyes that day, those socially constructed divisions melted away. All we saw, after we worked through our self-consciousness, was a reflection not unlike ourselves. It was like looking in a mirror. We cried because we were astounded and relieved to find that there was nothing to be afraid of after all. All the differences that seemed so important before the eye gazing had simply evaporated, as if it had been a figment of our imagination, or a bad dream. The tears fell because we were amazed at the unguarded gift each soul was offering us, and because we had been such blind fools not to see it before.
Out With The Old, In With The New
It's a strange experience to find intimacy with a room full of strangers. It's an even stranger thing not to have it with the people in our lives. In order to be closer to the people we care about, to "let down the walls," it is a prerequisite to see these people anew, to appreciate them for their good attributes, as well as the bad. We build walls which prevent us from recognizing all of the other person. We get focused and transfixed on what's gone wrong, and that's the only lens we can see them through. To "update" our perspective is essential to being able to see others for who they really are. There isn't any hope of renewal if we are using outdated "glasses" to view them with.
Our Own Worst Enemy
As I described, initially in the eye gazing exercise, the participant's reactions were: fear, dread, nervousness, and embarrassment to the point of mortification. All these reactions could fall under the heading of self-consciousness. When we are self-conscious, we have split ourselves into the performer and the observer (Perls): "The pathological phenomenon of self-consciousness is differentiation into performer and spectator has occurred." Simultaneously we feel pressure to perform, or respond correctly, while another part of our mind observes as a critic would. When we are self-conscious, there is no room for anybodys opinion except our own. We do this so as to divert our attention from what others might think about us, to what we think about us. After all, we unconsciously reason, if I am the harsh critic of myself first, others will take pity on me, and not be as harsh with me. Being self-conscious is being our own worst enemy, because our criticisms are usually much worse than others would be. The person who suffers from self-consciousness is listening to the relentless voice of the Superego (Freud), or in Gestalt Therapy, it is called the Topdog. It is a superior voice which makes unattainable demands of perfection. People with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder are barraged by the orders of a hyperactive Topdog who is relentless, and won't cease it's demands until the sufferer has performed the rituals obsessively. Maybe you've never thought about how obsessive thoughts and self-consciousness are connected, but they have in common a relentless task-master and tyrant who demands perfection. Intimacy requires putting aside self-conscious behaviors, and staying in contact long enough to break through the all-consuming ego centrism which is self-consciousness.
Seeing Past The Meat Suit
I heard a Quantum Physicist refer our bodies a "meat suit" (Byrne). He said, "If you think you are just a "meat suit" running around, you're wrong." He explained how our bodies are mass, but that mass, on a molecular level, is unstructured energy (M=mc2). Though we wear bones and skin and dress it up, on a molecular level, we are all the same. We are composed of energy which cannot be destroyed. Because we are composed of constantly changing cells, our "meat suits" will look different 10 years from now, and much different 20 years from now. The point is, to judge by the "meat suit" someone wears today is to believe only what you can see. What you can't see is the person's energy fluctuating and evolving, changing even as you read this. To judge others by how they appear on the outside is a slippery slope, because not only will their body change, but the brain is constantly revising itself (called "plasticity"). Therefore, if you base your acceptance of others on their looks, or even what they think, you're asking to be disappointed. Whoever you think is "perfect" now cannot, as hard as they may try, escape the relentless march of time. Once you can see beyond the clothes, hairstyles, gender and ethnicity of others, you might have a chance of actually perceiving THEM.
The Gem
During the eye gazing exercise, once I had overcome my self-consciousness, I could see the soul within the person. It seemed to me like a sparkling gem. A gem which was clear in it's viscosity and sparkled with unique attributes all it's own. Like a fingerprint or a snowflake, no two souls were alike, except that they all appeared as sacred gems to me. They each had a distinct color and vibrational energy. I remember thinking that each soul was priceless.
The Pearl of Great Price
A pearl, like a gem, is precious. It's valuable. In Christ's time, living among fisherman, pearls were a known commodity. There's a story Jesus told about a man going and selling all he had to buy a field where a pearl of great price was hidden. This Bible story is referred to as "The Pearl of Great Price." While Bible scholars have interpreted this story many ways, and most believe the pearl represents salvation, I think Christ could have been saying that we must look to find the goodness in others. Kind of like a pearl buried in the dirty field, or a gem buried deep inside the eyes of another person.
Conclusion
Intimacy requires us to invest something of ourselves. To be willing to risk. To wade in a little deeper in our relationships. It all begins with a willingness to be willing. Next time you're feeling alone, look into someone's eyes and really see them, as if for the first time, and then allow yourself to be seen. Realize this type of human contact is nourishing to the soul--both for you, and for them. See, it wasn't so hard after all.
Friday, July 22, 2011
The Existential Message From "Horton Hears A Who" by Nina Bingham
Every movie has a message. Even "Horton Hears A Who." My daughter and I went back to the movie theater in 2008 for a second helping. However, I failed to see it's existential meaning both times. How I could have missed its symbolism is beyond me now. It wasn't until one "Dark Night of the Soul" that I suddenly realized what "Horton Hears A Who" was all about.
Dark Night of the Soul
Dark Night of the Soul is the title of a poem written in the 16th-century by a Spanish poet and Roman Catholic mystic Saint John of the Cross. The poem describes the painful experience that people endure as they seek to grow in spiritual maturity and union with God. Like Saint John, every soul will have its dark night. Some, like those suffering with depression, experience more dark nights than others. The late Sylvia Browne, world-famous psychic said in her book, Souls Perfection (2000), that if we simply survive an earthly incarnation, we have done something heroic! She believes we choose to come down to Earth before we are born in order to experience certain trials and to learn from them. To Sylvia, Earth is a sort of school of hard knocks – the soul's “boot camp” if you will. The message from both these authors, a saint and a psychic, is that life is no cake walk. Or remember that Buddha said it, and Christ also demonstrated it, that here on Earth, they'll crucify you every time (metaphorically speaking). This is not an "easy" planet to be born into. Think about it-we arrive with a cold slap on the butt, and exit as they throw dirt in our face! By now, you must be thinking, "Wow, Nina must have been having a really bad night!" The point is: we've all experienced them. Moments when life which seemed impossibly cruel, a sadistic joke. When we grieved with no answers because life seemed both random and harsh. Moments when you've said to yourself, or said to God, "What's the use? What's all the suffering for?" These dark nights of despair leave us questioning the meaning of our existence. Strangely, it's not until we experience dark nights like these that we begin to notice the light.
The Light At The End of the Tunnel
You've heard the saying, "I can see the light at the end of the tunnel"? The light, in this case, looks brighter because of the darkness around it. The polarity of life is the breadth, depth and meaning of it. Not until we have seen our shadow can we appreciate our light. In Jungian psychology, the shadow or shadow self is a part of the unconscious mind consisting of repressed weaknesses, shortcomings, and instincts (Wikipedia.com). Simply, the contrast between darkness (unknowing) and light (knowing) defines our living, giving it meaning and significance. The cool drink is cooler on a hot Summer's day. The explosion into laughter, orgasm or grief is relieving, and wouldn't be cathartic without the precipitous state of withholding. We humans experience life as meaningful because of it's polarities. The Dark Night of the Soul, though painful, enables us to savor and appreciate the morning's bright dawn. The meaning of "Horton Hears A Who" broke upon my mind two years after I saw it when suddenly, in the foreground of my mind, the Dr. Seuss-ish characters seemed less cartoonish and surprisingly spiritual. It seemed to me what was originally a touching child's story was offering a profoundly adult lesson that I had missed the first, and even second time around.
We Are Here!
During my "Dark Night of the Soul," as I pondered why there has to be so much such suffering, I sent out a question, or maybe it was a prayer, but it sounded like this: "Do you know we are here?" As I did, the story line of Horton Hears A Who came rushing back to me. Do you recall how the Whos in Who-ville had, in desperate distress, trumpeted a similar message to the Universe: "We are here, we are here, we are here!" Suddenly, I was feeling as small as a Who. A single voice in a minuscule colony who lived on the pin-point sized dot on the head of a dandelion. I wondered if God was like Horton, a goofy but kindly-hearted elephant, living a carefree and blissful existence, caught unawares by the tiny sound of the Whos urgent message: "We are here! We are here! We are here!" I thought: if there is a God, I hope He is a big fellow with a soft heart, like Horton. I don't even care if He is goofy like Horton. I also thought about how, even in Horton's world, there was an antagonist; a disparaging, vengeful voice (played by Carol Burnett). And I smiled all over again when I thought about the yellow puffball named Katy, our favorite character in the film, whose one-liner delighted my daughter and I: "In my world, everybody eats rainbows, and poops butterflys." In Horton's world, as in our world, there are agonists, antagonists, and the clueless, quirky souls, too. I thought, if Horton represents God, and we humans represent the Whos, so small, seemingly insignificant and randomly falling through space, what's the message of the film?
A Person Is A Person, No Matter How Small
Throughout the movie, Horton kept repeating a mantra which kept him "saving" Who-ville from destruction. It was: "A person is a person, no matter how small." What I believe he meant was: regardless of the immense size difference between Horton and the Whos, the Whos were as important to Horton as he was. He couldn't let them perish because he had the power to save them. What the audience found endearing about Horton was how much he valued life. He held it sacred. Even life that was so minuscule by comparison that he couldn't even see it, and had to strain to hear it. If there is a God, I hope in this regard, He is like Horton. In our Dark Nights of the Soul, I believe we are sending out a message, whether it is whispered in a prayer, a thought, or shouted from the rooftops: "I am important, so don't forget about me!" The existential message I finally saw in "Horton Hears A Who" was: Everyone matters, no matter how small. If you believe there is a God, or a Higher Power, or whatever you want to call it, then allow this simple child's movie to remind you, as it did me, that the Creator, like Horton, hears us, and is moved to help us. And if you are an atheist, and do not believe, then consider the movie's theme anyhow: we are all equals, and therefore, everyone is worthy of compassion. Regardless of your spiritual leaning, there was a hidden message for you in "Horton Hears A Who," and I wanted to share it with you.
References:
(2011). Dark night of the soul. Wikipedia.com. Retrieved from the World Wide Web on July 22, 2011: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Night_of_the_Soul#Poem_and_treatise_by_Saint_John_of_the_Cross
Browne, S. (2000). Souls Perfection. Hay House, Inc.
Shadow (psychology). (2011). Wikipedia.com. Retrieved from the World Wide Web on July 22, 2011:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shadow_%28psychology%29
Schultz, D.P. and Schultz, S.E. (2009). Theories of Personality. Wadsworth CENGAGE Learning.
Dark Night of the Soul
Dark Night of the Soul is the title of a poem written in the 16th-century by a Spanish poet and Roman Catholic mystic Saint John of the Cross. The poem describes the painful experience that people endure as they seek to grow in spiritual maturity and union with God. Like Saint John, every soul will have its dark night. Some, like those suffering with depression, experience more dark nights than others. The late Sylvia Browne, world-famous psychic said in her book, Souls Perfection (2000), that if we simply survive an earthly incarnation, we have done something heroic! She believes we choose to come down to Earth before we are born in order to experience certain trials and to learn from them. To Sylvia, Earth is a sort of school of hard knocks – the soul's “boot camp” if you will. The message from both these authors, a saint and a psychic, is that life is no cake walk. Or remember that Buddha said it, and Christ also demonstrated it, that here on Earth, they'll crucify you every time (metaphorically speaking). This is not an "easy" planet to be born into. Think about it-we arrive with a cold slap on the butt, and exit as they throw dirt in our face! By now, you must be thinking, "Wow, Nina must have been having a really bad night!" The point is: we've all experienced them. Moments when life which seemed impossibly cruel, a sadistic joke. When we grieved with no answers because life seemed both random and harsh. Moments when you've said to yourself, or said to God, "What's the use? What's all the suffering for?" These dark nights of despair leave us questioning the meaning of our existence. Strangely, it's not until we experience dark nights like these that we begin to notice the light.
The Light At The End of the Tunnel
You've heard the saying, "I can see the light at the end of the tunnel"? The light, in this case, looks brighter because of the darkness around it. The polarity of life is the breadth, depth and meaning of it. Not until we have seen our shadow can we appreciate our light. In Jungian psychology, the shadow or shadow self is a part of the unconscious mind consisting of repressed weaknesses, shortcomings, and instincts (Wikipedia.com). Simply, the contrast between darkness (unknowing) and light (knowing) defines our living, giving it meaning and significance. The cool drink is cooler on a hot Summer's day. The explosion into laughter, orgasm or grief is relieving, and wouldn't be cathartic without the precipitous state of withholding. We humans experience life as meaningful because of it's polarities. The Dark Night of the Soul, though painful, enables us to savor and appreciate the morning's bright dawn. The meaning of "Horton Hears A Who" broke upon my mind two years after I saw it when suddenly, in the foreground of my mind, the Dr. Seuss-ish characters seemed less cartoonish and surprisingly spiritual. It seemed to me what was originally a touching child's story was offering a profoundly adult lesson that I had missed the first, and even second time around.
We Are Here!
During my "Dark Night of the Soul," as I pondered why there has to be so much such suffering, I sent out a question, or maybe it was a prayer, but it sounded like this: "Do you know we are here?" As I did, the story line of Horton Hears A Who came rushing back to me. Do you recall how the Whos in Who-ville had, in desperate distress, trumpeted a similar message to the Universe: "We are here, we are here, we are here!" Suddenly, I was feeling as small as a Who. A single voice in a minuscule colony who lived on the pin-point sized dot on the head of a dandelion. I wondered if God was like Horton, a goofy but kindly-hearted elephant, living a carefree and blissful existence, caught unawares by the tiny sound of the Whos urgent message: "We are here! We are here! We are here!" I thought: if there is a God, I hope He is a big fellow with a soft heart, like Horton. I don't even care if He is goofy like Horton. I also thought about how, even in Horton's world, there was an antagonist; a disparaging, vengeful voice (played by Carol Burnett). And I smiled all over again when I thought about the yellow puffball named Katy, our favorite character in the film, whose one-liner delighted my daughter and I: "In my world, everybody eats rainbows, and poops butterflys." In Horton's world, as in our world, there are agonists, antagonists, and the clueless, quirky souls, too. I thought, if Horton represents God, and we humans represent the Whos, so small, seemingly insignificant and randomly falling through space, what's the message of the film?
A Person Is A Person, No Matter How Small
Throughout the movie, Horton kept repeating a mantra which kept him "saving" Who-ville from destruction. It was: "A person is a person, no matter how small." What I believe he meant was: regardless of the immense size difference between Horton and the Whos, the Whos were as important to Horton as he was. He couldn't let them perish because he had the power to save them. What the audience found endearing about Horton was how much he valued life. He held it sacred. Even life that was so minuscule by comparison that he couldn't even see it, and had to strain to hear it. If there is a God, I hope in this regard, He is like Horton. In our Dark Nights of the Soul, I believe we are sending out a message, whether it is whispered in a prayer, a thought, or shouted from the rooftops: "I am important, so don't forget about me!" The existential message I finally saw in "Horton Hears A Who" was: Everyone matters, no matter how small. If you believe there is a God, or a Higher Power, or whatever you want to call it, then allow this simple child's movie to remind you, as it did me, that the Creator, like Horton, hears us, and is moved to help us. And if you are an atheist, and do not believe, then consider the movie's theme anyhow: we are all equals, and therefore, everyone is worthy of compassion. Regardless of your spiritual leaning, there was a hidden message for you in "Horton Hears A Who," and I wanted to share it with you.
References:
(2011). Dark night of the soul. Wikipedia.com. Retrieved from the World Wide Web on July 22, 2011: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Night_of_the_Soul#Poem_and_treatise_by_Saint_John_of_the_Cross
Browne, S. (2000). Souls Perfection. Hay House, Inc.
Shadow (psychology). (2011). Wikipedia.com. Retrieved from the World Wide Web on July 22, 2011:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shadow_%28psychology%29
Schultz, D.P. and Schultz, S.E. (2009). Theories of Personality. Wadsworth CENGAGE Learning.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Problems Are Like Onions by Nina Bingham
Problems Are Like Onions
I was considering how problems are a lot like the ordinary onion. Not an eloquent comparison, but true, nonetheless. What I mean is: like an onion, problems have layers. Like people have layers. Problems are systemic; they are not usually as simple as they look on the outside. When they appear simple, it's because you have ignored the next layer. You've only peeled away one "skin" of the problem. I see this in counseling with many new clients. A well-intentioned person comes to therapy meaning to solve a simple enough looking problem, such as smoking. As their life's story comes unraveled on the counseling room floor, with each successive layer of onion peeled back, and the next one, closer to the heart of the matter, exposed, what is left in the center is a core belief about themselves. These I refer to as "unconscious beliefs."
"I thought this was going to be easy," they lament, as we stare together at the nasty unconscious belief left on the floor. I know we've gotten to the heart of the onion (the problem) when they also stare in shocked disbelief at the core belief about themselves. A core belief I see a lot, which are always untrue, is: "I'm not good enough," or some other diatribe accusation still clinging to the soul from childhood. Some clients will look upon the uncovered core belief and exclaim, "It's true! I'm not good enough!" If the client cannot look at the heart of the onion, and see it for, in reality, what it is (a stinky lie), I know they have more work to do. And this is the soul's work: distinguishing the morality of the lies we believed about ourselves in childhood.
It All Began In Childhood
Freud was wrong about the etiology of some things, but, he knew that childhood is the breeding ground for mistrust of ourselves. In childhood we begin doubting our innocent, inner wisdom, that knowing which has guided us, and which supersedes adult wisdom. As young children we intuitively understood our problems. We knew to ask unashamedly for what we wanted, which was innate and organismic. The healthy organism doesn't ask others what it should want, or what it is. It defines itself. It is programmed to do what it's supposed to do. We don't think of blinking or respiration: they happen spontaneously, as a result of the autonomic nervous system. Similarly, "thinking" came naturally once to us. Our thoughts at birth were simple, and as our brains grew to accommodate our environment, we became more cognitively sophisticated, more distinguishing. As our cognitive abilities appreciate, our sensory awareness recedes into the background of our awareness. Problems stand at the foreground; we are faced with the onion.
Onions Have Layers
I chose an onion to represent our day-to-day problems because it is one of the stinky vegetables, and one which has the power to make us cry when we cut into it. It is also one of the most common ingredients in cooking. What would a common recipe be without a touch of the culinary workhorse? You can find one in most every kitchen, and it's on every cook's grocery list. So it is with problems: when handled skillfully, the common, smelly onion can be transformed into a flavorful dish. Problems, like the onion, appear impossible to deal with until they are handled. Upon closer examination, we can disarm the onion's offensive qualities. Let's give an onion a good examination, a thorough once-over, shall we?
1. Pick the onion up and examine it's exterior. According to Socrates: the 'unexamined life is not worth living.' It may seem like you are faced with a central, single problem, such as: an addiction, or a relationship gone sour, or a hundred other themes (but have you noticed you tend to pick the same sort of onions?).
2. Notice there are layers to the onion. Upon closer inspection, you may, or may not be able to see how problems are systemic. I mean that our problems are caused by other problems. Example: Smoking is caused by stress. Smoking is the surface complaint, it is not the root issue. Smoking is precipitated and triggered by stress. Remove the source of stress, and you may have solved the problem. Perhaps you are lucky, and your onion has only two layers: smoking (effect) and stress (cause). For most people, their onions have more than two layers. In the case of smoking there is:
Layer 1-The obvious problem (smoking)
Layer 2-The triggers (stress, and physical and emotional addiction)
Layer 3-The Personality Hole (s)
Layer 4-The core unconscious belief that is dominant (defines behavior).
Personality Holes
Dr. Fritz Perls, the creator of Gestalt Therapy, described what is lacking in the personality as a "hole."
Similar to the black holes in space, where stars, planets, and even constellations can become sucked in,
trapped in a galactic whirlpool and lost, is a personality hole, where what should be there is not.
In the human personality, when a common quality is lacking, a personality hole can be detected.
For example, in the case of someone with anti-social personality disorder, there is a marked lack of empathy for others. Criminals are devoid of this character quality. They have forgotten how to care compassionately for others. This is why allowing the well-behaved prison inmates to have a dog while imprisoned is a beautiful idea. It is a teaching measure. It rehabilitates the characteristics of empathy and responsibility for others. They are given a chance to "reattach" to another living being, one who will love them unconditionally. This retraining in "having a heart" is a means of fixing what is lacking in this personality. As mercy is shown to the inmate by the correctional system, and by the unconditional adoration of a dog, they can learn to have tender feelings again for someone besides themselves.
Holes in personalities are common. People with personality disorders always, and without fail, have nothing where something should be. Dr. Perls also described the personality hole by saying, "Some people have no eyes. Some people have no ears where there should be ears." Have you ever had the experience of listening to a person talk about their problem, and the answer seemed obvious to you, yet it was as if they couldn't see what was right in front of them? This is a person with no eyes. Or have you ever talked to someone to find they heard your words, but were so preoccupied that they didn't hear your meaning? This persona has no ears. This is the frustration of Layer 3, the personality hole. People can be blind to a problem when they are in the midst of a problem. Their personality has developed a deficit; they are prevented from seeing it because to them, it is as if it is not there. How can you see that which does not exist for you? Personality holes are indicated by this lack of self-awareness. And if you make them aware, they may deny that it is there at all.
Unconscious Beliefs
Layer 4 is the final layer of the problem. It is more like a core of an avocado than the another layer of an onion. It is hardened, fixed and resistant to destruction. It is at the center of behavior. It is unconscious: like a navigating system guiding our lives, and as if we were on auto-pilot, we obey it's dictates. If the belief about ourselves is negative, such as, "I'm not good enough," we will see our circumstances through these lenses. We interpret messages other people send us through the filter of: "I'm not good enough." Then we treat those people as if that's how they feel (but we really don't know, because we never took the time to ask them). If our belief about ourselves is positive, again, we interpret our environment as reinforcing to our self-esteem: "You are good enough. You are loveable." Because most unconscious beliefs about ourselves originated in childhood, Re-Parenting, or Inner-Child Therapy is a powerful method to touch that younger, still-hurt part of ourselves, which continues to feel "not good enough."
The Problem With Problems
The onion is a problematic vegetable. It appears like a whole mass, until you peel it. Then it multiplies. It becomes a whole system of smaller layers. Problems are similar, and this is why we avoid them: we've handled enough of them to know that if we open it we are "opening a can of worms." Worms are not pretty, and onions can be stinky. So why even go there? The problem with problems is this: like a vegetable, if you allow it to rot, it really begins to stink! There are people whose souls are over-running with rot. Rather than correct the problem, they are like the hoarder, shoving their rotting onions everywhere until they pile up so obtrusively that there is nowhere they can go to get away from them. Hoarders are people who cannot let go. They would rather hang on to a rotting onion than experience grief. They are persons avoiding, and compensating for a loss they've experienced by hanging on to dead, rotting things. You may be saying, "How dreadful! I'm nothing like the hoarder!" However, like the hoarder, when we hang onto problems instead of resolving them, it is a refusal to grieve.
Wherever You Go, There You Are
Maybe you've heard the phrase, "Wherever you go, there you are?" All of us would like to avoid problems, to run from them. We all feel that way. And sometimes we do manage to avoid, or run from them...for awhile. Then, we return from vacation or come down from the whirlwind of romance. Eventually, we return to ourselves. Distractions from our problems aren't bad, in fact, sometimes that's exactly what we need to do-set aside the worry and de-stress! However, when problems are piling up, eventually the weight of them becomes unbearable. We realize it's time to focus on ourselves, and of course, the onion.
Being Willing To Be Wrong
MLK, Jr. said, "You don't have to see the whole staircase. Just be willing to take the first step." Admitting you have an unsolved problem takes some courage. It means you'll have to risk to get what you want. It means you'll have to "go out on a limb." I heard Reverend Matt Garrigan ask, "Would you rather be right, or would you rather get results?" Sometimes we must be willing to be wrong to solve our problems. Einstein said, "The same level of thinking used to create a problem cannot be used to solve a problem." This may mean going and finding the support we need. If we give ourselves permission to be wrong, to see mistakes as "errors in judgements, rather than sins to be judged and condemned" (Rev. Matt Garrigan), then we are free from perfectionism, and allowed to be what we are: fallible human beings who are in the process of learning and growing.
Conclusion
The next time you see an onion, think about how this common, stinky vegetable can be easily transformed. Realize your problems are just like the onion: if handled correctly, they can be used to enhance, and bring greater flavor to your life.
I was considering how problems are a lot like the ordinary onion. Not an eloquent comparison, but true, nonetheless. What I mean is: like an onion, problems have layers. Like people have layers. Problems are systemic; they are not usually as simple as they look on the outside. When they appear simple, it's because you have ignored the next layer. You've only peeled away one "skin" of the problem. I see this in counseling with many new clients. A well-intentioned person comes to therapy meaning to solve a simple enough looking problem, such as smoking. As their life's story comes unraveled on the counseling room floor, with each successive layer of onion peeled back, and the next one, closer to the heart of the matter, exposed, what is left in the center is a core belief about themselves. These I refer to as "unconscious beliefs."
"I thought this was going to be easy," they lament, as we stare together at the nasty unconscious belief left on the floor. I know we've gotten to the heart of the onion (the problem) when they also stare in shocked disbelief at the core belief about themselves. A core belief I see a lot, which are always untrue, is: "I'm not good enough," or some other diatribe accusation still clinging to the soul from childhood. Some clients will look upon the uncovered core belief and exclaim, "It's true! I'm not good enough!" If the client cannot look at the heart of the onion, and see it for, in reality, what it is (a stinky lie), I know they have more work to do. And this is the soul's work: distinguishing the morality of the lies we believed about ourselves in childhood.
It All Began In Childhood
Freud was wrong about the etiology of some things, but, he knew that childhood is the breeding ground for mistrust of ourselves. In childhood we begin doubting our innocent, inner wisdom, that knowing which has guided us, and which supersedes adult wisdom. As young children we intuitively understood our problems. We knew to ask unashamedly for what we wanted, which was innate and organismic. The healthy organism doesn't ask others what it should want, or what it is. It defines itself. It is programmed to do what it's supposed to do. We don't think of blinking or respiration: they happen spontaneously, as a result of the autonomic nervous system. Similarly, "thinking" came naturally once to us. Our thoughts at birth were simple, and as our brains grew to accommodate our environment, we became more cognitively sophisticated, more distinguishing. As our cognitive abilities appreciate, our sensory awareness recedes into the background of our awareness. Problems stand at the foreground; we are faced with the onion.
Onions Have Layers
I chose an onion to represent our day-to-day problems because it is one of the stinky vegetables, and one which has the power to make us cry when we cut into it. It is also one of the most common ingredients in cooking. What would a common recipe be without a touch of the culinary workhorse? You can find one in most every kitchen, and it's on every cook's grocery list. So it is with problems: when handled skillfully, the common, smelly onion can be transformed into a flavorful dish. Problems, like the onion, appear impossible to deal with until they are handled. Upon closer examination, we can disarm the onion's offensive qualities. Let's give an onion a good examination, a thorough once-over, shall we?
1. Pick the onion up and examine it's exterior. According to Socrates: the 'unexamined life is not worth living.' It may seem like you are faced with a central, single problem, such as: an addiction, or a relationship gone sour, or a hundred other themes (but have you noticed you tend to pick the same sort of onions?).
2. Notice there are layers to the onion. Upon closer inspection, you may, or may not be able to see how problems are systemic. I mean that our problems are caused by other problems. Example: Smoking is caused by stress. Smoking is the surface complaint, it is not the root issue. Smoking is precipitated and triggered by stress. Remove the source of stress, and you may have solved the problem. Perhaps you are lucky, and your onion has only two layers: smoking (effect) and stress (cause). For most people, their onions have more than two layers. In the case of smoking there is:
Layer 1-The obvious problem (smoking)
Layer 2-The triggers (stress, and physical and emotional addiction)
Layer 3-The Personality Hole (s)
Layer 4-The core unconscious belief that is dominant (defines behavior).
Personality Holes
Dr. Fritz Perls, the creator of Gestalt Therapy, described what is lacking in the personality as a "hole."
Similar to the black holes in space, where stars, planets, and even constellations can become sucked in,
trapped in a galactic whirlpool and lost, is a personality hole, where what should be there is not.
In the human personality, when a common quality is lacking, a personality hole can be detected.
For example, in the case of someone with anti-social personality disorder, there is a marked lack of empathy for others. Criminals are devoid of this character quality. They have forgotten how to care compassionately for others. This is why allowing the well-behaved prison inmates to have a dog while imprisoned is a beautiful idea. It is a teaching measure. It rehabilitates the characteristics of empathy and responsibility for others. They are given a chance to "reattach" to another living being, one who will love them unconditionally. This retraining in "having a heart" is a means of fixing what is lacking in this personality. As mercy is shown to the inmate by the correctional system, and by the unconditional adoration of a dog, they can learn to have tender feelings again for someone besides themselves.
Holes in personalities are common. People with personality disorders always, and without fail, have nothing where something should be. Dr. Perls also described the personality hole by saying, "Some people have no eyes. Some people have no ears where there should be ears." Have you ever had the experience of listening to a person talk about their problem, and the answer seemed obvious to you, yet it was as if they couldn't see what was right in front of them? This is a person with no eyes. Or have you ever talked to someone to find they heard your words, but were so preoccupied that they didn't hear your meaning? This persona has no ears. This is the frustration of Layer 3, the personality hole. People can be blind to a problem when they are in the midst of a problem. Their personality has developed a deficit; they are prevented from seeing it because to them, it is as if it is not there. How can you see that which does not exist for you? Personality holes are indicated by this lack of self-awareness. And if you make them aware, they may deny that it is there at all.
Unconscious Beliefs
Layer 4 is the final layer of the problem. It is more like a core of an avocado than the another layer of an onion. It is hardened, fixed and resistant to destruction. It is at the center of behavior. It is unconscious: like a navigating system guiding our lives, and as if we were on auto-pilot, we obey it's dictates. If the belief about ourselves is negative, such as, "I'm not good enough," we will see our circumstances through these lenses. We interpret messages other people send us through the filter of: "I'm not good enough." Then we treat those people as if that's how they feel (but we really don't know, because we never took the time to ask them). If our belief about ourselves is positive, again, we interpret our environment as reinforcing to our self-esteem: "You are good enough. You are loveable." Because most unconscious beliefs about ourselves originated in childhood, Re-Parenting, or Inner-Child Therapy is a powerful method to touch that younger, still-hurt part of ourselves, which continues to feel "not good enough."
The Problem With Problems
The onion is a problematic vegetable. It appears like a whole mass, until you peel it. Then it multiplies. It becomes a whole system of smaller layers. Problems are similar, and this is why we avoid them: we've handled enough of them to know that if we open it we are "opening a can of worms." Worms are not pretty, and onions can be stinky. So why even go there? The problem with problems is this: like a vegetable, if you allow it to rot, it really begins to stink! There are people whose souls are over-running with rot. Rather than correct the problem, they are like the hoarder, shoving their rotting onions everywhere until they pile up so obtrusively that there is nowhere they can go to get away from them. Hoarders are people who cannot let go. They would rather hang on to a rotting onion than experience grief. They are persons avoiding, and compensating for a loss they've experienced by hanging on to dead, rotting things. You may be saying, "How dreadful! I'm nothing like the hoarder!" However, like the hoarder, when we hang onto problems instead of resolving them, it is a refusal to grieve.
Wherever You Go, There You Are
Maybe you've heard the phrase, "Wherever you go, there you are?" All of us would like to avoid problems, to run from them. We all feel that way. And sometimes we do manage to avoid, or run from them...for awhile. Then, we return from vacation or come down from the whirlwind of romance. Eventually, we return to ourselves. Distractions from our problems aren't bad, in fact, sometimes that's exactly what we need to do-set aside the worry and de-stress! However, when problems are piling up, eventually the weight of them becomes unbearable. We realize it's time to focus on ourselves, and of course, the onion.
Being Willing To Be Wrong
MLK, Jr. said, "You don't have to see the whole staircase. Just be willing to take the first step." Admitting you have an unsolved problem takes some courage. It means you'll have to risk to get what you want. It means you'll have to "go out on a limb." I heard Reverend Matt Garrigan ask, "Would you rather be right, or would you rather get results?" Sometimes we must be willing to be wrong to solve our problems. Einstein said, "The same level of thinking used to create a problem cannot be used to solve a problem." This may mean going and finding the support we need. If we give ourselves permission to be wrong, to see mistakes as "errors in judgements, rather than sins to be judged and condemned" (Rev. Matt Garrigan), then we are free from perfectionism, and allowed to be what we are: fallible human beings who are in the process of learning and growing.
Conclusion
The next time you see an onion, think about how this common, stinky vegetable can be easily transformed. Realize your problems are just like the onion: if handled correctly, they can be used to enhance, and bring greater flavor to your life.
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