A university professor went to visit a famous Zen master. While the master quietly served tea, the professor talked about Zen. The master poured the visitor's cup to the brim, and then kept pouring. The professor watched the overflowing cup until he could no longer restrain himself. "It's overfull! No more will go in!" the professor blurted. "You are like this cup," the master replied. "How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?"
My mind feels like that cup sometimes. So full. Overflowing full. I have a hard time remembering things. My daughter says I have the memory of a gnat. She’s right. I think it’s because I have so much useless stuff stuck in my memory and I can’t find the delete button. I can remember my childhood phone number, but I can’t remember to pick up juice on the way home. When I try to remember something new, my mind plays a familiar recording. “The message inbox for the number you are calling is full.”
There is just too much information out there that I’m trying to store in here. Not only grocery lists, but also information about truth. I just finished a book by someone who thinks he has God all figured out. The title isn’t important because there are a million books like that. There are a million books like that because there are a million people who believe they know the truth.
Oprah Winfrey writes a column for her magazine every month called “What I Know For Sure.” Whenever I pick up her magazine in the checkout line, I marvel at the notion that at least once a month, she knows something for sure. No wonder she “makes bank,” as my daughter says.
So if these people really know the truth, then why don’t they all agree? Not only do they not agree, but some will argue vehemently about the rightness of their positions. Some will even kill each other.
The Tao Te Ching teaches, “Wise men don’t need to prove their point. Men who need to prove their point aren’t wise.” I must be very wise, because not only do I not need to prove my point, but I’m not sure I even have a point to prove.
You can’t organize truth. That’s like trying to put a pound of water into wrapping paper and shaping it. –Bruce Lee
reposted from archives
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
One Hand Clapping
Being right is not all it’s cracked up to be. Think about all the things people argue about. Make a quick list of five things. Let’s see – here are the first five things I thought of.
1. Whether we should have a single-payer healthcare system
2. Whether a certain misbehaving NFL quarterback should be suspended
3. Whether any particular religion is the only way to God
4. Who really discovered America
5. Whether the toilet paper should roll over the top or from underneath
Ann Landers devoted a number of columns to this last one. No kidding.
Many questions that people spend a lot of time arguing about don’t have an objectively discernible right answer. Take the God question, for example. How can people be so sure that their way is the only way? My mom said once with great conviction that something was against the moral laws of the universe. Wow, I thought, how does my mom know what the moral laws of the entire universe are?
Sometimes even when there is a right answer, it doesn’t stop the argument. For example, the Nazis really did kill millions of people. And Obama really was born in Hawaii. But the arguments continue.
How can we stop ourselves before we get hooked in an argument that creates a chasm between us rather than a bridge?
For me, I realized that winning an argument doesn’t always make me happy. Being right must be its own reward, because often there isn’t much else to gain from it. At some point I decided that in many instances, being happy was more important to me than being right. Tough on my ego, but nourishing to my spirit.
When poised to do battle, I try to ask myself first if the issue even has a “right” answer. If it doesn’t, then it might be a matter of opinion. Can I listen to other opinions with an open mind? Can I engage in respectful debate without getting my ego knickers in a knot?
If there is a “right” answer, does it matter? If my friend is telling a story and says the event happened in 2004, and I know for a fact that it happened in 2005 (at least I think I know), is the correct year relevant to the story? If not, then let it go.
Not being so quick to argue has helped me live more contentedly in my happy place. Do I put this into practice at every opportunity? I wish. But when I do, there is a shift in my world, a reminder that letting go of being right is often a small sacrifice for living in joy.
1. Whether we should have a single-payer healthcare system
2. Whether a certain misbehaving NFL quarterback should be suspended
3. Whether any particular religion is the only way to God
4. Who really discovered America
5. Whether the toilet paper should roll over the top or from underneath
Ann Landers devoted a number of columns to this last one. No kidding.
Many questions that people spend a lot of time arguing about don’t have an objectively discernible right answer. Take the God question, for example. How can people be so sure that their way is the only way? My mom said once with great conviction that something was against the moral laws of the universe. Wow, I thought, how does my mom know what the moral laws of the entire universe are?
Sometimes even when there is a right answer, it doesn’t stop the argument. For example, the Nazis really did kill millions of people. And Obama really was born in Hawaii. But the arguments continue.
How can we stop ourselves before we get hooked in an argument that creates a chasm between us rather than a bridge?
For me, I realized that winning an argument doesn’t always make me happy. Being right must be its own reward, because often there isn’t much else to gain from it. At some point I decided that in many instances, being happy was more important to me than being right. Tough on my ego, but nourishing to my spirit.
When poised to do battle, I try to ask myself first if the issue even has a “right” answer. If it doesn’t, then it might be a matter of opinion. Can I listen to other opinions with an open mind? Can I engage in respectful debate without getting my ego knickers in a knot?
If there is a “right” answer, does it matter? If my friend is telling a story and says the event happened in 2004, and I know for a fact that it happened in 2005 (at least I think I know), is the correct year relevant to the story? If not, then let it go.
Not being so quick to argue has helped me live more contentedly in my happy place. Do I put this into practice at every opportunity? I wish. But when I do, there is a shift in my world, a reminder that letting go of being right is often a small sacrifice for living in joy.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Joy in the Morning
[This is my first guest post on someone else's blog. The post begins here. To read the rest, click on the link.]
Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning. Psalm 30:5
I wept a lot when my son was growing up. From the moment I heard the word autism, I set out to fix him, to use my love, my intelligence, my resources, my will, my faith to make him well.
I tried every therapy that came along. And I prayed every kind of prayer. I bargained, I visualized, I begged, I focused, I believed, trusting that if I could just summon a mustard seed of faith, he would be healed. His continued autism signified failure. I was a failure as a mother and as a person of faith.
Then one morning when James was a teenager,... [read the rest of this post at Fireflies and Hummingbirds]
Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning. Psalm 30:5
I wept a lot when my son was growing up. From the moment I heard the word autism, I set out to fix him, to use my love, my intelligence, my resources, my will, my faith to make him well.
I tried every therapy that came along. And I prayed every kind of prayer. I bargained, I visualized, I begged, I focused, I believed, trusting that if I could just summon a mustard seed of faith, he would be healed. His continued autism signified failure. I was a failure as a mother and as a person of faith.
Then one morning when James was a teenager,... [read the rest of this post at Fireflies and Hummingbirds]
Monday, February 7, 2011
I Brake for Rainbows
It's a gray, drizzly day, nothing new in Oregon this time of year. A few minutes ago the late afternoon sun broke through the clouds. I immediately looked out my office window for a rainbow and there it was, a gorgeous complete arch, each color distinct and blazing bright.
I stopped working and ran up and down the hall, calling to my colleagues, especially those on the inner side of the hall (no windows), and we all went outside, by which time a second, fainter, rainbow arched above the first. We all stood in the drizzle oohing and ahhing until they both began to fade.
They only lasted a minute, but what a glorious minute that was!
I stopped working and ran up and down the hall, calling to my colleagues, especially those on the inner side of the hall (no windows), and we all went outside, by which time a second, fainter, rainbow arched above the first. We all stood in the drizzle oohing and ahhing until they both began to fade.
They only lasted a minute, but what a glorious minute that was!
Saturday, February 5, 2011
I'm Right -- So What!
My daughter stormed into the house after school. She had had an argument with a friend. As she described the argument, she became more and more puffed up with her own sense of rightness. She grew angrier and angrier with her friend’s stubborn, bull-headed refusal to see what was to her the incontrovertible, inescapable, clear-as-the-nose-on-your-face-you-must-be-a-moron-not-to-see-it rightness of her position.
I listened without comment. When she finally began to wind down and looked to me for validation of her outrage, I simply said with a smile, “Who cares?” Well, that was not what she was expecting. While she was standing there with her mouth agape, momentarily speechless, I jumped in before she could protest. “Do you want to be right or happy?” I asked. I asked her to think about the topic of their argument and to consider whether being right about that topic was worth the emotional upset she was experiencing. As she did a quick cost/benefit analysis, I could see her body relax and her spirit calm down.
On a different occasion, I was having lunch in a restaurant with some colleagues. I ordered something that had a french name. As soon as I said it, the server corrected my pronunciation. I speak french passably well and lived in french speaking countries for several years, so I was confident that I had pronounced the dish correctly. So in turn I corrected the server, with a not so subtle I-know-better-than-you tone. And after he left the table, I commented on how rude he was. Even if he had been right, what bad form to correct a customer in front of other people. Only later did I see that I had done exactly the same thing to him! Wouldn’t we both have felt better if I had just let his mistake pass without comment?
As I’m writing this, I am thinking back to several times when I committed a faux pas in front of someone who was in a position to cause me great embarrassment by pointing it out. In each instance, the person said nothing. In one instance, the person even went further by quietly correcting the mistake I made so that no one else would see what I had done. Much later, when I realized my mistakes, I was so humbled by the graciousness of these people. My mistakes, in the big scheme of life, were minor, but the kindness of their actions was immense.
The world is divided into people who think they are right. –Tara Brach
I would prefer a world undivided by people who choose to be happy.
reposted from archives
I listened without comment. When she finally began to wind down and looked to me for validation of her outrage, I simply said with a smile, “Who cares?” Well, that was not what she was expecting. While she was standing there with her mouth agape, momentarily speechless, I jumped in before she could protest. “Do you want to be right or happy?” I asked. I asked her to think about the topic of their argument and to consider whether being right about that topic was worth the emotional upset she was experiencing. As she did a quick cost/benefit analysis, I could see her body relax and her spirit calm down.
On a different occasion, I was having lunch in a restaurant with some colleagues. I ordered something that had a french name. As soon as I said it, the server corrected my pronunciation. I speak french passably well and lived in french speaking countries for several years, so I was confident that I had pronounced the dish correctly. So in turn I corrected the server, with a not so subtle I-know-better-than-you tone. And after he left the table, I commented on how rude he was. Even if he had been right, what bad form to correct a customer in front of other people. Only later did I see that I had done exactly the same thing to him! Wouldn’t we both have felt better if I had just let his mistake pass without comment?
As I’m writing this, I am thinking back to several times when I committed a faux pas in front of someone who was in a position to cause me great embarrassment by pointing it out. In each instance, the person said nothing. In one instance, the person even went further by quietly correcting the mistake I made so that no one else would see what I had done. Much later, when I realized my mistakes, I was so humbled by the graciousness of these people. My mistakes, in the big scheme of life, were minor, but the kindness of their actions was immense.
The world is divided into people who think they are right. –Tara Brach
I would prefer a world undivided by people who choose to be happy.
reposted from archives
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Flu Blues
I have not abandoned my blog. Nor have I abandoned your blogs. I am still laid low by the flu. While lying in bed coughing my head off, I’ve been thinking about an earlier post about the gratitude challenge (I’m Grateful for That).
So here’s how it works. When you are feeling negative about something, you say you are grateful for it, even if you’re not. Then you just keep going until some small rays of real gratitude break through the dark clouds.
I’m going to try it. I’m grateful for the flu. (No, I’m not. I’m feeling whiny.)
I’m grateful that in the midst of recent stress, my body took charge and ordered me to take a break. (Hawaii would have been nicer.)
I’m grateful for the hot tea my daughter made for me. (I haven’t coughed in 10 seconds.)
I’m grateful for the daughter that made it. (My two daughters still at home have been very attentive this week.)
I’m grateful for my warm blankets and soft pillows piled high on my bed. (They are comforting.)
I’m grateful that I have terrific colleagues who have filled in for me this week while I’ve been sick. (They are truly the best.)
I’m grateful for blog friends and other friends who have sent me get well thoughts and made me feel cared about. (Y’all are truly the best, too.)
I’m grateful that I am generally a very healthy person and this is a temporary condition. (I am so lucky to have good health.)
I’m grateful to have more blessings that I can even begin to count. (Wow, this really works. I am feeling grateful. How silly to be whiny when I am blessed beyond belief.)
From flu blues to sunshiny gratitude. I'm grateful for that!
So here’s how it works. When you are feeling negative about something, you say you are grateful for it, even if you’re not. Then you just keep going until some small rays of real gratitude break through the dark clouds.
I’m going to try it. I’m grateful for the flu. (No, I’m not. I’m feeling whiny.)
I’m grateful that in the midst of recent stress, my body took charge and ordered me to take a break. (Hawaii would have been nicer.)
I’m grateful for the hot tea my daughter made for me. (I haven’t coughed in 10 seconds.)
I’m grateful for the daughter that made it. (My two daughters still at home have been very attentive this week.)
I’m grateful for my warm blankets and soft pillows piled high on my bed. (They are comforting.)
I’m grateful that I have terrific colleagues who have filled in for me this week while I’ve been sick. (They are truly the best.)
I’m grateful for blog friends and other friends who have sent me get well thoughts and made me feel cared about. (Y’all are truly the best, too.)
I’m grateful that I am generally a very healthy person and this is a temporary condition. (I am so lucky to have good health.)
I’m grateful to have more blessings that I can even begin to count. (Wow, this really works. I am feeling grateful. How silly to be whiny when I am blessed beyond belief.)
From flu blues to sunshiny gratitude. I'm grateful for that!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Next Step
Greetings. I was away from the computer for the weekend, and then came home with the flu so I have not been posting or keeping up with my favorite blogs.
January ended while I wan't paying attention! I'm pleased we ended with some great quotes of joy and inspiration. Thanks to all who shared. Do you have any other reflections on a month of giving yourself permission to be happy?
And now it is February, and time to focus on Step 2--Decide if you want to be right or happy.
I'll start posting in a day or so as soon as I'm feeling a little better. Till then, think about some arguments you have been a party to. Petty things, big things, one big blow out, or a continuing conflict. No need to evaluate them or analyze them. Just see if you can identify some.
Stay tuned....
January ended while I wan't paying attention! I'm pleased we ended with some great quotes of joy and inspiration. Thanks to all who shared. Do you have any other reflections on a month of giving yourself permission to be happy?
And now it is February, and time to focus on Step 2--Decide if you want to be right or happy.
I'll start posting in a day or so as soon as I'm feeling a little better. Till then, think about some arguments you have been a party to. Petty things, big things, one big blow out, or a continuing conflict. No need to evaluate them or analyze them. Just see if you can identify some.
Stay tuned....
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