Day Five Hundred & Ninety-eight
Tuesday, January 24th 2012
“On first discovering a poisoned tree, some people see only its danger. Their immediate reaction is, 'Let's cut down this tree before we are hurt. Let's cut it down before anyone else eats of the poisoned fruit.' This resembles our initial response to the difficulties that arise in our lives, when we encounter aggression, compulsion, greed, or fear, when we are faced with stress, loss, conflict, depression, or sorrow in ourselves & others. Our initial response is to avoid them, saying 'These poisons afflict us. Let us uproot them; let us be rid of them, let us cut them down.'
Other people, who have journeyed further along the spiritual path, discover this poisoned tree & do not meet it with aversion. They have realized that to open to life requires a deep & heartfelt compassion for all that is around us. Knowing the poisoned tree is somehow a part of us, they say, 'Let us not cut it down. Instead, let's have compassion for the tree as well.' So out of kindness they build a fence around the tree so that others may not be poisoned & the tree may also have its life. This second approach shows a profound shift of relationship from judgment & fear to compassion.
A third type of person, who has traveled yet deeper in spiritual life, sees this same tree. This person, who has gained much vision, looks & says 'Oh, a poisoned tree. Perfect! Just what I was looking for.' This individual picks the poisoned fruit, investigates its properties, mixes it with other ingredients, & uses the poison as a great medicine to heal the sick & transform the ills of the world. Through respect & understanding, this person sees in a way opposite to most people & finds value in the most difficult circumstances.”
A part of me wants to say that I am that second or third type of person, but the truth is that I am no more extraordinary than many of us in the rest of the world. When we are met with difficult situations or conflicts, we tend to react – or perhaps worse, shut down. In reflecting upon my friendships before I came to Mongolia & in anticipating my return to America, I am beginning to wonder how to navigate these murky & arguably unsettled waters. With some, particularly those who are convincing in their acts of supposed change (but underneath those new layers, one still may find the same tendencies toward moodiness & disagreeableness, much like a person wearing a Halloween costume), I have begun to build my fences. Within these fences, I find that it is possible to cultivate small gardens, but I am starting to learn that I need to begin stepping over to the other side of the fence when the true personalities begin to bleed through.
Jack Kornfield states “Healing is necessary . . . . Unhealed pain & rage, unhealed traumas from childhood abuse or abandonment, become powerful, unconscious forces in our lives. Until we are able to bring awareness & understanding to our old wounds, we will find ourselves repeating their patterns of unfulfilled desire, anger, & confusion over & over again.” With certain people in life, particularly those from whom we cannot escape, we must endure those times of hardship & embrace the moments where peace prevails. With others, such as friends who have wronged us in some way, we often can choose to simply walk away. I'm beginning to question myself about whether walking away, particularly from those who have harmed me, is the best path to take. Is forgiveness a better path, or would that lead me back toward harm once more? Better still, what good does forgiving from a distance do?
“As we become more conscious, we can see yet more clearly the inevitable contradictions of life, the pain & the struggles, the joys & the beauty, the inevitable suffering, the longing, the everchanging play of joys & sorrows that make up human experience.” For those who have wronged me in some way & for those who I have been able to find some forgiveness in my heart, the contradictions still exist. Can a friendship ever be gotten again? What if I have healed but they have not? How might an open door benefit us both, but how might an open door be a hindrance to my own life? One of the most difficult challenges for me is waiting for others. I am repulsed by memories of friends who have left me waiting, who said they would call but did not, who did not have the courtesy to respect my time. The fault is in part, my own, because had I been more protective of my time (had I, for example, asked specifically when we would meet, or been more adamant about scheduling) I may not have been let down. I can move past these instances, but what good is forgiveness if I am the only one who is aware that I have forgiven a person?
“When we set out to love, to awaken, to become free, we are inevitably confronted with our own limitations.” I have to continually remind myself that I cannot change others, & that some people haven't changed. While I myself have undergone profound self-discovery during my time here in Mongolia, the truth may very well be that I am an exception (once again) rather than a rule. Wisdom & insight would have us believe that embracing change is good, & that change is inevitable. I expect to find this advice striking in its irony when I return home to find that no, not much has changed at all. Perhaps there will be a great deal of comfort in that, but perhaps also there will be a great deal of sadness. According to St. Francis de Sales, “What we need is a cup of understanding, a barrel of love, & an ocean of patience.”
Unfortunately, I believe that the best thing I can do is to separate myself, albeit with love, from certain people or past friendships in my life. I aspire to be that third type of person, the person who welcomes the existence of challenges, the person who can pull diamonds from wreckage, who can immerse themselves in the danger of a poisonous tree (or friendship) & remain somehow elegant in their own objectiveness, who can navigate amongst the rocks without getting shipwrecked. It's a lesson I need to learn, but right now, I feel far too flammable to play with fire.
-Oscar Wilde
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