Am I really free to choose?

The other evening I was at one of my book club groups. The book we had been reading was called Every Man Dies Alone by Hans Fallada. In the course of our evening we found ourselves hotly discussing the issue of choice as it was revealed through several of the characters. Some in the group said that there are times in life when we simply have no choice, the decision is made for us in the circumstances before us. For instance, one of the people said, 'I have no choice when a decision made by me will hurt my family or, not only hurt them, but perhaps endanger them. How could I possibly not do whatever was being asked?'

I found myself vehemently, really vehemently stating that I believe we always have a choice no matter what the situation. Again, in the example given, we do in fact, have the choice to do what we believe is right, even if it endangers loved ones. It is true that many of us would not make that choice, but it is ours to make nevertheless. And, as some wise person has said, not to make a choice, is to make a choice. 

Why was I so vehement? I wondered that myself after I got home. What I think was behind it is hard to articulate but I will try.  

It often seems these days that we hear more and more about the number of people who see or feel themselves to be victims. Many people express the feeling that they are at the mercy of others: the big corporations, governments, family, work, our past - perhaps life in general. Often when people express this it is with anger or with some sort of lashing out at some 'other'. Maybe one of the more absurd (to my mind at least) kinds of lashing out is when that person sued McDonalds because they had become obese eating their hamburgers!
  
It occurred to me thinking about this that when we feel like victims we also feel we are not free and that is what makes us angry. It seems that life rolls over us and we are never able, really, to live.

Okay, having said that, any one of us can think of a hundred circumstances which really do appear to be totally unfree: we lose our job, someone close to us dies, we get seriously ill and dependent and many, many things we all know in one way or the other. So where here, is the element of choice? 

For me I think, the first choice and maybe even the most important choice to make or to try to make or to hope to make, is the choice not to be embittered by the circumstances that have befallen us. That freedom from bitterness is immediately freeing and healing. It is true we are not any better off outwardly, but what has happened is not compounded by self-defeating emotions; the 'poor me' kind of emotions. So then, we can begin to say, this is the situation, here are the options I have before me. Even if the choice I have to make is between bad and worse, I am choosing, my life is not being railroaded by circumstances and I will, in time, find myself much more at peace however dark things look.

I understand that this can sound impossible but I also understand that it is, in fact, do-able and it is the beginning of an interior road to freedom that immediately improves how I live my life. It is admittedly, a slow growth in freedom and can only start with one small choice made knowingly and firmly, but it works. The rest is nothing but a journey to the kind of interior freedom we all hope for.

Here's a link to a talk which is, in many ways, about choosing. Though it is geared a bit more to women than men I have no doubt that it applies to all of us:
http://www.ted.com/talks/jane_fonda_life_s_third_act.html?quote=1266  

Follow @mgtjdth

 

  

Re-viewing slowness

This is a slightly adapted previous post, one that keeps prodding me so I wanted to share it again. I had been reading a couple of books new to me which seem to be related though that wasn't necessarily my intention. The first book is called 'In Praise of Slowness' by Carl Honore and the second is called 'Quiet: The power of introverts in a world that can't stop talking' by Susan Cain.

The one that interests me as I write this is the Slowness book because the whole issue of why I and others rush through life has been vexing me for a while. I think I mentioned a while ago that until I entered the monastery I felt as if I was totally living my life at speed, on the surface. Skimming.

The other day I was at a meeting and met someone who brought this home to me. I was chatting with the woman sitting next to me. We discovered fairly quickly that we both lived in the Beach area of Toronto. Now the Beach is a wonderful place to live in this city. In five minutes I can be down at the Lake (Ontario) walking along the Boardwalk or through the park or just sitting watching the many faces of the lake. It is utterly beautiful in all weather and I come home refreshed, relaxed and hugely grateful. Just east of me there are also wonderful shops - little shops, pleasant shops. There are as well, an enormous number of restaurants, cafes where you can sit out in good weather and watch the world go by. 

So that is the area. There is a friendly, almost small town atmosphere.

As this woman and I were speaking I was raving on about the wonders of the Beach and how I love exploring it. She turned to me and said she had lived in the area for 30 years and never went to the lake and never investigated the stores. Later in the conversation she pulled out from her purse an enormous appointment book. Every page seemed to be crammed with things she was booked to do. I thought then of all that Carl Honore is trying to say about slowness and about how our lives improve immensely when we slow down, breathe deeply and live.  He makes very clear that this can't always be the case but that we can work towards it. He says we will be happier and healthier in the process.

What if this woman had died that day, what would her appointment book do then?

What are we doing to ourselves?! What are we missing in the world around us? Who are we missing in the people around us? Why are we inclined to feel guilty when we aren't doing something? Where are we rushing to? 

There we are! Just put yourself in the picture and rest.

Follow @mgtjdth

Meeting truth

Once again, I found in Thich Nhat Hanh that wise Buddhist man something to feed my mind and heart. He is speaking about the obstacles that we put - or that can be - in the way of our truly meeting one another. I think it has to do with the concept of inter-being that Buddhists speak of often. Here is what he says in this instance:

                In Buddhism knowledge is regarded as an obstacle to
                understanding...It is said that if we take one thing to be 
                the truth and cling to it, even if truth itself comes in person
                and knocks at our door, we won't open it. For things to 
                reveal themselves to us, we need to be ready to abandon
                our views about them.*

I struggled with this but I think I understand what he means because I have experienced in my own life the effect of thinking I understand someone or something and have found that I was indeed, blind to the reality of the person or thing. For one thing, I trust too much in my own judgment (one might say too, why am I making a judgment at all?).

I can recall the first time this question really touched me. It was early in my time in the monastery and we were having a class in scripture. There in several places were passages that said that people refused to believe Jesus because a) they knew him and therefore he couldn't be special b) they knew that someone from God was to come from a certain town and he didn't and c) they knew his parents and they certainly couldn't be the parents of someone who speaks truth. My understanding here is that people were blinded by their preconceptions and couldn't hear or see the person before them.

I was thinking too about my early days in l'Arche when I felt myself, I am saddened to say, somewhat superior to the men and women with whom I was living and so I did not 'hear' or 'see' their wisdom. It took many months and many times of battered ego (mine) to begin to realize that I was missing enormous wisdom and love offered from people whom I had in some horrible way 'written off'.

I do try now to listen better and to be open to what seems to me to be odd or not 'sensible' to my way of thinking. Or, something that comes from someone I don't like or don't know. I certainly still miss a lot but I am hopeful that it is a work in progress so that each day in the very person I expect nothing of I will, in some wonderful way, meet truth and there will be in some mysterious way a mutual revelation of two human souls on a journey. 

*The Everyday wisdom of Thich Nhat Hanh, compiled and edited by Melvin McLeod, Shambhala Press, Boston, 2011