Brought to You by the Letter C

When Tom Cruise says, "You complete me," in the movie Jerry Maguire it sounds so romantic. He found the love of his life. He's complete now! Not so fast. Nothing could be further from the truth. A friend explained this notion of completeness (what I choose to call wholeness) to me, and it hit me square between the eyes. It's so profound and clear in its simplicity, and once I understood it, my whole perspective changed. It goes like this:

If we are not whole with ourselves we look like the letter "C." We have gaps in our make up.

If we're like Jerry Maguire and we find someone (or something) that we feel makes us whole, we look like this: 

The catch here is we feel whole but we're not. All we've done is fill in the gap with something external and temporary. It's a guarantee that feeling of wholeness will disappear when the novelty of what's filling the gap wears off.

If stop looking outside ourselves for fulfillment and we start looking internally we eventually will look like the letter "O."

We have a sense of wholeness independent of any other factors. Then and only then can we go forward as the whole person we've been trying to be. Pretty simple, huh?
And pretty profound if you ask me.

Ego

Recently I had an incident that I recoiled from. Someone had offered to help me with a situation. I had to stop and think about it for a bit. Why did I get defensive at the offer of assistance. This morning at the gym it became clear to me. What I found was that my ego was getting in the way. It wouldn't let me admit that this was something that I could use advice and assistance with. It was too proud, which led to deeper stubbornness. 

Realizing this was another giant leap in my path of mindfulness and nonattachment. I became aware of, and fascinated, by the process of recognizing ego and its clever ways of keeping me stagnant in old thinking and behavior. Once I stripped away the hard outer shell ego had constructed I was able to see the truth of things. The situation then became immediately understood.
Some lessons come with time, patience, and hard work/attention. And more times than not, they come in eye-opening flashes of revelation and understanding. It made me grasp more fully the workings of the ego and its defensiveness and insecurity.

The Russian Nesting Dolls of Worrying What Others Think

Over the past year and a half I've been undergoing major changes and awakenings, embracing my better, truer, and happier self. This is a process that began about ten years ago. A process that I have come to understand as not one with a destination, but one that is an ongoing journey. In the various reading I do on and offline I always come across one point that makes every "How To Be Happier" list. That is: stop worrying about what others think of you. 

Easy to say. Easy to understand. Not so easy to do. I've always been aware of the people pleaser inside me. Someone so concerned with what everyone else wanted and needed. Someone so worried about what everyone else would think that I put my own desires and happinesses aside so they wouldn't be inconvenienced. Guess who was the one that always wound up unhappy and feeling unfulfilled? Through some deep introspection and rigorous honesty from the above mentioned journey, I know and understand where that desire comes from, and why I'm so concerned with what others think of me. That's a story for perhaps another posting, however.

What is important, and curious to me, is how deeply-rooted that worry about what others think of me was/is. It was easy to recognize the glaring, immediate ones. What if they don't like the dinner I prepared? What will people think of the sweater I'm wearing? What if he doesn't like the movie I suggested we see? Behind all of those questions was a fear of being rejected, not being liked, people being angry with me. 

As I progressed in my journey of self-discovery and understanding, I came across deeper, more subtle, and dare I say sneaky places where the fear of what others thought of me resided. Recently I decided to make a career change. I was burnt out and unhappy in my current field and wanted to move to something more fulfilling. Something more worthwhile. When I decided on what it would be I began taking college courses to fulfill my goal. All along, however, I felt a sheepishness, a sense of humiliation, an embarrassment about it. What would people think about me changing careers? He couldn't hack it in his current profession so he's running away. I worried what people would think if I took to long at the gym. Worried what my partner would think if I brought home the wrong kind of coffee creamer. Scared what people would think if I moved the date of a get together. It was constant and deep. I came to realize most everything I did had behind it the guilt and terror of what would people think. It was what I like to call the Russian Nesting Doll Syndrome. Open one and there's another. Open that one and there's another. Open that one and there's another still. And on and on it goes, never ending.

Each day I uncover some new area where I find my thinking has been subtly twisted by this fear of what others may think of me. It perplexes me and intrigues me. Its tentacles have reached almost every aspect of my life. The difference today is that I have stopped allowing myself to be hostage to that way of thinking. Recognition, understanding, and the ability to look into these places with honesty and openness, unafraid of what I will find strips these places of their hold on me. 

Quotes by two people come to mind. My friend Dan who says, "I can honestly say what other people think of me hasn't been a consideration of mine for years. Who cares? Many of them don't even know what to do with their own lives, let alone mine." And Eleanor Roosevelt so wisely advises, "You wouldn't worry so much about what others think of you if you realized how seldom they do." 

I must agree with those philosophies. With conscious effort, mindfulness, nonattachment, and an honest desire to find out more about myself, my journey will be an adventurous one for sure. 

Seeking To Understand

Our capacity for compassion and understanding is truly boundless; and our ability to embrace it is truly a gift. Sure, it’s a learned habit to some extent, but I also believe that the source of it is not learned. It’s something that exists deep down in all of us. Some of us embrace it naturally, and some of us have to work hard to overcome our fears to let it open up inside of us.

I have, at various times, been a hater, lover, participant and rejecter of 12-step groups, their movtives and messages. Regardless of my 12-step group stances, however, I have come to wholly embrace one of their core messages, “Seek to understand rather than to be understood.”

It took me a long time to understand that phrase. The selfish me couldn’t let go of my fear of not being “understood back.” I’ve finally come to the conclusion that 12-step groups and the core principles of compassion are one and the same. When we seek to understand rather than be understood we are selfless. We are giving. We are compassionate. And as for being understood back, well the answer is easy. If we are all working to understand rather than be understood, then we are all giving and compassionate toward other. It’s just that simple.

Mindfulness

"When the Buddha was asked, 'Sir, what do you and your monks practice?' he replied, 'We sit. We walk, and we eat.' The questioner continued, 'But Sir, everyone sits, walks and eats.' And the Buddha told him, 'When we sit we know we are sitting. When we walk, we know we are walking. When we eat, we know we are eating.' 
Most of the time we are lost in the past, or carried away by future projects and concerns. When we are mindful, touching deeply the present moment, we can see and listen deeply, and the fruits are always understanding, acceptance, love and the desire to relieve suffering and bring joy."
— Thich Nhat Hanh, Living Buddha, Living Christ