Some Rumi

The minute I heard my first love story
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.

------------



When I am with you, we stay up all night.
When you're not here, I can't fall asleep.

Praise God for these two insomnias!
And the difference between them.

-----------


I am filled with you.
Skin, blood, bone, brain, and soul.
There's no room for lack of trust, or trust.
Nothing in this existence but that existence.


------------

Gamble everything for love,
if you're a true human being.

If not, leave
this gathering.

Half-heartedness doesn't reach
into majesty.  You set out
to find God, but then you keep
stopping for long periods
at mean-spirited roadhouses.

------------


If you want what visible reality
can give, you're an employee.

If you want the unseen world,
you're not living your triuth.

Both wishes are foolish,
but you'll be forgiven for forgetting
that what you really want is
love's confusing joy.

Rumi (trans. by Coleman Barks)

Don't be too honest

We aren't designed to be honest, and we certainly aren't set up to hear honest opinions.  Those who endorse absolute honesty are not suited to living in a social environment.

Absolute honesty is brutal.  It means telling your partner that yes, her bum does look big.  That no, you don't like the special meal she spent hours cooking for you. And that you really couldn't care less what Bob said to her at work the other day.

It means that when somebody asks you how you are, you actually tell them. No holding back: you just broke a nail, your piles are playing up, and you're worried about dying.

What do you think of my new painting? I think it's ugly; it reminds me of the time my dog had diarrhoea and walked it across the carpet. But at least you've used more colour.

People confuse honesty with brute honesty.  Brute honesty involves dumping out your opinions regardless of the effect it will have on somebody else.  It is cruelty disguised as a moral choice, and it strips human interaction of the social lubricant that we need when there are 7 billion of us living in close proximity.

True honesty is a virtue that is tempered by kindness, consideration, and love. There is nothing wrong with a white lie.  The only problem is mission creep - you start to confuse the boundaries between a white lie and something more.  The question to ask of a white lie is this:  who am I trying to help?  If it's the other, then fine.  If you're lying mainly to make life better for yourself then perhaps you're into a shade of grey. White lies make life easier for both parties, but the person benefitting most should be the hearer.

Be honest, sure. But more important, be kind.

How can I like myself more?

How can I like myself more?

You can't.  All the affirmations, visualisations and positive thinking in the world won't help. Sorry. Next, please.

Oh, wait - there is one thing you can try. Simply stop doing the things that make you like yourself less. We all have habits of which we aren't proud. I used to always like to have the last word until I realised that each time I 'won' an argument I actually liked myself a little less. When I plan to read before bed but pointlessly browse the internet until it's too late to read, then I like myself a little less.

What are the things you do that make you dislike yourself? Common things include shopping for gadgets and clothes you don't need, constantly sniping at a loved one, watching TV even though you realise you could be spending time more productively, having to win an argument, being unfaithful to a partner, being persistently late, yielding to the temptation of a drink or a cigarette when you've given up, watching porn, and not going to the gym when you planned to.

Forget the vague goal of "liking yourself". Cut out the specific behaviours that make you like yourself less.  If nothing else you will change your life for the better.

De-clutter your emotional life

Once upon a time I thought that a friend would be a friend for life. I thought that no love affair could end so bitterly that no vestige of affection would remain.  I thought that a blood relative would forever have some place in my heart. I thought that 'clutter' meant only the physical.  And I thought that getting older meant getting more: more friends, more relationships, more relatives, and more things.

Only now am I beginning to see that life is better with some of the fat trimmed off it. It hurts me when a friendship has run its course, but it hurts me more to try and maintain some pallid version of it.  I feel sad when a relationship has no future, but sadder still when I strain to keep it alive with a pretence of passion.

There are those who can cut a person out of their lives with barely a thought.  I'm not one of them. In fact I've rarely decided to sever contact with someone.  Nonetheless some people are bad medicine for me: they bring to my life more negative than positive, more pain than pleasure, more conflict than kindness.  The best thing I can do - with compassion for both of us - is to cut these few out of my life.

Sometimes it will also be the best thing for you to do.  Just remember to sever ties with compassion instead of anger.  Your aim is the opposite of hate.  And the opposite of hate isn't love; the opposite of hate is indifference.

Do what the scriptures tell you to do

The commander of the occupation troops said to the mayor of the mountain village, "We know you are hiding a traitor. Unless you give him up to us we will torture you and your people by every means in out power."

The village was, indeed, hiding a man who seemed good and innocent, and was loved by all. But what could the mayor do now that the welfare of the village was at stake? Days of discussions in the village council led to no conclusion. So the mayor finally took the matter up with the priest.  Preist and mayor spent a whole night searching the scriptures and finally came up with a text that said: "It is better that one man die to save the nation."

So the mayor handed over the innocent man, whose screams echoed through the village as he was tortured and put to death.

Many years later a prophet came to that village, went right up to the mayor, and said, "How could you have done what you did?  That man was innocent. And you handed him over to be tortured and killed."

"But where did I go wrong?", pleaded the mayor.  "The priest and I looked all night at the scriptures, and did what they commanded."

"That's where you went wrong," said the prophet. "You looked at the scriptures. But you should also have looked into the man's eyes."

Be happy now. What are you waiting for?

From school we are taught two crippling untruths: that success is about achieving milestones, and that happiness is linked to success.

Finish school, then you'll have really achieved something.
Get a degree, then you'll have really achieved something.
Find a good job, then you'll have really achieved something.
Get a promotion, then....
Get married, then.....
Have children, then....
When your children have finished school, then....
Once you've retired, then....


We are taught that these milestones are markers on a path.  We're not told where the path leads, and most of us assume the destination is called 'success'. We delay the simple act of being happy until the next milestone is reached. "Once I've got my own house, then I will be truly happy". But will you?

We are taught that reaching these milestones should make us happy.  But we have to figure out for ourselves that it's ok to be happy anyway.  Happiness and success and achieving milestones should have no relationship to each other.  Just be happy. What possible reason is there for waiting?

We are taught that life is hard work and a struggle.  But not that it's possible to walk through the world with ease. So ask: is the world a heavy or a light place for me?

The result is this:  we wait for external circumstances to make us happy; but in reality happiness comes from day-to-day life, not the transient highs of achievement.

This happiness, this passion for day-to-day life is brought to the table by you, and you alone. No circumstances or other people can bring it for you.

You have the opportunity to be happy and passionate about life right now. Go for it.

We are just tourists

In the last century a tourist from the States visited the famous Polish rabbi the Chafetz Chaim.

He was astonished to see that the rabbi's home was just a simple room filled with books.  The only furniture was a table and a bench.

"Rabbi, where is your furniture?', asked the tourist

"Where is yours?", replied Chafetz

"Mine?  But I'm only a visitor here."

"So am I", said the rabbi.

A simple weight loss strategy

Losing weight and getting in shape is simple, but not easy.


Diet.  Eat what you currently eat. Twice per week fast for 24 hours.  You can have as much water as you like and tea and coffee, but no solid food.  Go from breakfast to breakfast,  lunch to lunch, or dinner to dinner without eating.


Exercise.  Walk every other day for 16 minutes.  Start at your front door and walk for 8 minutes, then turn around and make sure you get back to your front door before the total time is up.  Aim to go a bit further each time you walk, but still make it back to your front door in 16 minutes.  Keep track of distance by using markers such as house numbers.

Follow this plan and you will lose 1 kg per week, or your money back.

What does this story mean?

A disciple once complained: "You tell us stories, but you never reveal their meaning to us"

Said the master: "How would you like it if someone offered you fruit and chewed it before giving it to you?"

Tell me what you feel, don't bore me with facts

Which voice is telling the story?


     The hotel is beautiful, and there's an amazing beach there.  It's really close to town as well - it only took us 10 minutes to walk to the local bar! There's so much to do: they have a water park and a huge pool, and there's a casino next door.


     You'll love the hotel - it's beautiful, and you can get straight onto this amazing beach.  You can walk to the local bar in 10 minutes - it's so close!  You've got loads of activities as well: you can go to the water park and pool, or you can always gamble away your money at the casino.


     I thought the hotel was beautiful, and I loved walking onto the beach.  We made it to the local bar in 10 minutes, and I even walked as far as town one day.  I was really excited when I saw all the slides at the water park, and I'm just glad I managed to resist the lure of the casino!




The first paragraph - written in the third person - is dry, and is opinion masquerading as fact.  There is no space for emotion or action, and it doesn't let you tell a story.

The second paragraph is in the second person - the "you" perspective.  Many people speak like this: they tell me how I'm going to feel about things.  "Oh you'll love it when you get into it".  "You'd hate it; you'd find it really boring".  Really?  Please don't tell me what I'll think and feel. There's no need to try and second-guess me: I'd prefer to hear what you thought and make up my own mind.

The third paragraph is from the first person, or "I", perspective.  This voice lends itself well to story-telling. People want to hear what you though, saw, and felt. Emotions make stories.

More feelings, fewer facts.  And a better story.

Nobody but you cares about your flaws

Nobody knows it, but you've got a secret problem

His hair was really thinning out on top. Poor guy. In the ceiling mirror I could see him walking towards me up the stairs. I felt a little sympathy – losing your hair at a young-ish age can’t be easy. As I was about to pass him I noticed the mirror arrangement: I’d been looking at the top of my own head.

This was years ago. For months afterwards I was self-conscious. My personality changed. I was less assertive, less confident and less happy. A psychologist friend offered a dozen different explanations for this: from fear of aging and death, to the biblical myth of Samson and loss of masculine power. None of that helps.

I meet dozens people every year who have similar issues:

A beautiful woman self-conscious about the size of her feet.

A man ashamed of his hand, having lost a finger in an accident when he was young.

A woman who blushes readily and hates to go out to social events.

Men and women who feel embarrassed about being too tall.

Or short.

Or fat.

Or thin.

Maybe a psychologist could work with them.  Perhaps some therapy or medicine could make them happier.

But only the truth about your flaws will set you free: nobody else gives a shit.

These people – and I was one of them – are so humiliated by their perceived flaws that they can’t enjoy the world. Fixation on the so-called problem becomes a vicious cycle: their experience is twisted through a lens of their own making. And it’s one that they choose to look through.

You think you’re too skinny?  Nobody else gives a shit.

You think your nose is too big?  Nobody else gives a shit.

Your voice doesn’t sound how you like?  Nobody else gives a shit.

You can see where I’m going here. We’re all in this together, so there’s no point holding on to your negative self-image.  If a belief empowers you, then take it. If it dis-empowers you then drop it.  I’m not suggesting you cling to delusions or stop trying to improve, but if your belief in a physical flaw prevents you fully experiencing the world then you have 3 options: fix it, feature it, or just say ‘fuck it’.  I picked the latter.

The truth, again, about your so-called flaws:  nobody else gives a shit.

First, change yourself [story]

I was a revolutionary when I was young and all my prayer to God was "Lord, give me the energy to change the world."

As I approached middle age and realised that half my life was gone without my changing a single soul, I change my prayer to "Lord, give me the grace to change all those who come in contact with me. Just my family and friends, and I shall be satisfied."

Now that I am an old man and my days are numbered, my one prayer is, "Lord give me the grace to change myself". If I had prayed for this right from the start I would not have wasted my life.

- Bayazid Bastami

Tell me you love me

When was the last time you looked your partner in the eyes and told them that you loved them? Or your parents? Or your friend?

Are you waiting for them to tell you, so you can take the easy route by saying it in return? Maybe you said it a couple of months ago.  Or you sent a card. Or texted "ILU".  Perhaps they know that you love them, and so you don't need to express it. Maybe you got back from a business trip and rushed into their arms, telling them how much you love them.

Loving makes you vulnerable.  Not weak, but vulnerable: your heart is opened. Looking somebody in the eye and telling them that you love them is a deep expression of love, and also a wide opening of the door of your vulnerability.  It's safer to say it on the phone, to make a joke of it, or to wait for a special moment.

It takes courage to look somebody in the eye and sincerely tell them:  "I love you".  Harder still when there's nothing special about the moment: when you're not lying in bed after fantastic sex, you haven't been away from each other for a fortnight, or it's not an anniversary.

One of the greatest human achievements - and one of the things that makes us so different from other animals - is this: to be able to look somebody in the eye, at no special time of day, expecting nothing in return, and simply say, "I love you".

How to dehumanise somebody - part 3

Angels, super-heroes, and perfection

Will:   “This girl – she’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s fun. She’s different to the other girls I’ve been with.”

Sean:   “So call her up, Romeo”

   “Why? So I can realise that she’s not that smart? That she’s fucking boring? This girl’s perfect right now. I don’t want to ruin that.”

  “Maybe you’re perfect right now. Maybe you don’t want to ruin that.... You’re not perfect sport, and let me save you the suspense – this girl you’ve met, she isn’t perfect either. But the question is whether or not you’re perfect for each other.”

- from Good Will Hunting

click here for clip

I look up to many people.  I’ve idolised a few of them.  The difference is this: I can admire someone and still understand that they have flaws; but when I idolise somebody I see only a part of them. To me they no longer have human failings, or if they do then I perceive these as being strengths.

In every case this has made it difficult for me to interact with them. And in every case I’ve ended up disappointed. Nobody is perfect. And coming to see this only late in a relationship is painful.

We grow up reading fairy tales. It’s easy to tell the good guys from the bad guys. The princes and princesses in these stories are portrayed as wonderful and beautiful and perfect. Boys want to be the prince, girls the princess. We learn to idolise from a young age.  Fine for the heroes in stories for children, but it teaches us that perfection exists.  It doesn’t; at least not for humans.

Idolising somebody places a barrier between us. We can never really get to know them. When we realise our idol is part made of lead – the human part – as well as lustrous gold, then we feel let down. But the disappointment that we feel can allow us to review and reform our relationship with them.

Remember, there are many ways to dehumanise someone, and one of these is to idolise them.

How to dehumanise somebody – part 2

Monsters and other animals

Every serial killer has been described as a monster. They’re not the only ones: Hitler was a monster. Stalin, too. Sadistic criminals are monsters. Even mis-behaving children are little monsters.

And when a gang attacks somebody they are said to be behaving like animals – often ‘wild animals’.

By describing criminals as monsters or animals we make life easy for ourselves. They are in some fundamental way different to us – not human. How easy, then, to believe that we could never commit such a crime.

This has two effects:

First, we don’t need to examine the dark parts of ourselves.

You think that you could never commit such an act?  You’re wrong. Whatever somebody else can do, you can do as well.  Given different circumstances, another upbringing, a subtle shift in brain chemistry, and you could be them. They aren’t monsters. And there’s a part of you that is shared with them.  Denying them humanity lets you deny yourself your darkness.  Instead you should embrace your shadow, shine light on it.

“I am a human being, I consider nothing that is human alien to me.”

- Publius Terentius Afer

Second, we don’t need to look at the social and societal circumstances that led to them behaving as they did.

Some suggest that criminals are a different breed: that they were born different, and the way they turned out was inescapable. This is delusional. Human development is dependent upon biological, social and psychological factors. To look for a ‘criminal gene’ is at the same level of scientific enquiry as looking for evidence of geocentrism or creationism.

By basking in the comfort that criminals are genetically different from ‘normal’ people, we can look away from the inequalities and social pressures that lead to the development of criminality.  This short-sightedness does the world no favours.  The milieu of influences that lead one person down a dark path can be illuminated, even if not immediately addressed.  A fairer society is a society with less crime.

Don’t cast out criminals into the realm of monsters. By doing so we only stifle our own growth.

How to dehumanise somebody - part 1

Reclassification

“Hi Josh, I need a resource for a job in late April – are you available?”, read the email. My first instinct was to check my calendar. Then it occurred to me that I’ve never before been referred to as a resource.

 

In the past, companies would have a personnel department. The term is now ‘human resources’, and by extension employees are viewed as resources. Similar to natural resources, these humans need to be discovered, obtained, and refined.  Sometimes they need to be transformed, and other times discarded. There is resource wastage. And, as resources, they are interchangeable.

 

The military employ a similar re-classification. Individual soldiers are formed into units such as squadrons and platoons. This is necessary for organisation, but is also expedient. It is emotionally easier to send a ‘unit’ to defend a position than it is to send a group of individual men. This de-humanising is necessary for a military commander.

 

A still grosser example is the Nazi classification of Jews, Gypsies and others as untermenschen – sub-humans. It is difficult to torture and kill a fellow human: morality gets in the way. Easier to deal with a sub-human and treat them as an animal.

 

But in industry there is no benefit from treating people as ‘resources’.

Anybody who works for a large organisation will have sensed a loss of individuality. Irrelevant emails beginning, “Dear All”; fighting with a distant payroll department to rectify mistakes; team-building exercises that are nothing but a way to make you a more obedient employee; a boss that is never seen but must be obeyed; an us-versus-them mentality between teams; your request being shunted from department to department because nobody wants to take personal responsibility for an issue.  How valued do you feel as an individual?

 

Try the opposite of de-humanising. Not jargon such as “bringing a human touch”, but simply bearing in mind that everybody you work with is an individual.  Make them feel recognised for their individuality – remembering their name is a start. They will be happier. And perform better, if the bottom line’s your thing.

How to figure out what you want

Overheard recently at a party:

Oh, I’d love to learn to speak French

I really want to visit Cuba

I wish I could play the piano

I want to get a new camera

A triathlon is something I’d like to do one day

I would love to be better at skiing

I want to learn how to make sushi

All were said by the same person.  Does he really want all of these? Yes, but to markedly different extents. And in a world of massive opportunity and excessive desire we have lost our sense of scale.  “Oh, there’s so much I want to do”, in a tone of desperation, is heard frequently. But the desire to learn French, the desire to visit Cuba, and the desire to get a new camera are not equal.

I would like to speak Chinese, and I’d like to visit Japan. As it stands I’ll probably visit Japan this year, and it’s equally probable that I will never be able to speak Chinese.

If you ask me for a list of skills I’d like to have, languages I’d like to speak, objects I’d like to possess, and other desires, I can come up with a list of hundreds. Everybody can. We need to be able to distinguish between our wants: are they pure wishful thinking, or something we actively desire and work towards?

A lot of our “wants” are fantasy-world dreams that will never be realised. The only way they’ll happen is if we find a lamp with a genie inside. Yeah, sure, I “want” to speak Chinese. But I’m not planning to put the work in any time soon, and I doubt I’ll ever have the motivation to learn. It’s wishful thinking, not a strong desire. On the other hand, I’m about to book a flight to Japan.

This distinction - between what we’d choose if somebody offered us a thousand wishes, and what we are prepared to work for - is one we gloss over. We end up feeling as though we want a lot.  It would be better to remove a whole swathe of things from our ‘want’ list. If we’re not prepared to work for it, book it right now, or sacrifice for it, then we don’t really want it. It should be relegated to the land of wishful thinking.

By sifting out our true desires we will be able to focus.  We won’t feel confused by all the things that we want, as we’ll see that we don’t deeply desire them all. In fact our list will shrink, and our goal-setting will become sharper.  Think about each thing that you “want”, and ask yourself whether you’re prepared to work for it or sacrifice for it; if the answer is ‘no’ then cross it off your list.  You don’t want it enough.

Why do you want children?

There is no such thing as selflessness. Altruism doesn’t exist.  We are at the mercy of our desire to survive and reproduce.  Our every action is filtered through a single question: will this help my genes to flourish?  Good deeds, even those seemingly unselfish, are done with a subconscious hope of future reward.

The population of the planet is now over 7 billion.  It is thought that the optimal population is less than half of that. Worldwide there are over 100 million children who are orphaned, and in the UK alone there are 100 000 children in local authority care. 

Having children is purely selfish. There are many things we can do to benefit the world, but producing more humans is not one of them.  We don’t need more children.  The desire for family and offspring is a biological urge which has been dressed up by society into ideals: the happy marriage with children cementing the couple’s love for each other, or the purity of a mother’s love which overrides all reason.

At its most naive we see this selfish desire for children in those who are themselves bereft of love: the girl who gets pregnant because she wants “someone who will love me unconditionally”, or the unhappy couple who think that their relationship will be saved by having a child.

Adoption is less appealing. Your own genetic offspring are the first choice. Whether you conjure up reasons, or put it down to a gut feeling that “I’d just like to have my own children”, the cause is biological.  Your genes want to spread, and so you desire children.  It’s selfishness.

Selfishness is not evil. It’s biological, just the way we are designed. Rarely does it have a malign intention.  But it’s useful to be brutally honest sometimes, so let’s be clear about our motivation.

Declaration of interest: I’d like to have children of my own.

No such thing as an expected death

Death is always a shock. It jolts everybody it touches. No matter how predictable the death might have been – an elderly grand-parent who has been fading for months, an uncle with advanced cancer, an old friend with severe heart problems – those left behind are always shocked. Medical professionals and police forces make the distinction between ‘expected’ and ‘unexpected’ death. But to those left behind, death is never expected. 

This applies even more to our own lives. We can conceptualise our aging and death, but none of us deeply believe it. We understand it logically but not emotionally. And because of this we are doomed to let our life pass us by without relishing every moment of it. We even talk about killing time, not comprehending how limited our time is.

How would you live if this were your last week of life? Or your last month? Or year? This thought experiment is absurd: it allows no planning for the future that we hope is to come.  However if your response is “sell the house, move to Vegas, and spend everything on booze, gambling, and hookers”, then something is profoundly wrong with the way you currently live.

More useful: if this were the last interaction I’d ever have with this person, how would I want it to be? Fuller of praise, and emptier of criticism.

You would tell your parents that you love them. You’d tell your friend how much they mean to you.  Arguing with your sibling, you would be the first to apologise. You wouldn’t let yourself be riled by somebody spilling your drink or tailgating you in traffic or being unhelpful on the phone.

What we need is a wristwatch that counts down the days until we die. Failing that we can only live with an awareness of death. We will die. Everyone we love will die. Everyone we hate will die.  And if you think that’s morbid then it’s a sign that you’re probably wasting your life. Grow up, wake up: living is beautiful and rich only because it is transitory. Don’t waste time.

"How you make me feel"

You made me feel awful when you told me….

He made me really angry when he…..

It always makes me sad when I see….

You make me feel so happy….

When you do that it makes me feel stupid….

If you want to be powerless then this is your language. Sure – your emotions are out of your control. People, events, almost anything can make you feel things. You’ve no choice in the matter. From here it’s only the tiniest mental hop, step and jump to placing responsibility onto somebody else for not just your emotions, but your actions as well. Why take the blame yourself?

Reality check for anybody above the age of 12: nobody forces you to feel something.  Your feelings are up to you. You have a choice about how you feel. You can also choose whether to believe that you have that choice; and sometimes – maybe a lot of the time – it’s easier not to take the responsibility. But the language of blaming another, be it you, he, she, they, or it, for making us feel something, is the same language that disempowers you.

Something happens, and you become aware of it. In that space of awareness you can observe your feelings. They will arise, linger, and pass away. There’s no need for you to embrace them and engage with them.*

Don’t relinquish your power and self-control. Don’t devolve your emotional state to someone else. I can see the look in your eye - you don’t believe it’s possible to be in control of your emotions. Have a little faith. When you find yourself commenting that something ‘made’ you feel a certain way then reflect on whether you had a choice. And remember one of life’s rules: if you won't take the blame then you can’t claim the credit.

*Credit: Siddhartha Gautama

How to change the world

Start by changing yourself

There are two ways to change the world: top-down, or bottom-up. In the first, change is enforced when a law is passed, a political initiative started, or orders come from above.  The bottom-up approach, on the other hand, relies on each of us to change ourselves; as we change, not only does the world become an incrementally better place, but we can also influence those we meet.

The top-down approach is flawed for a simple reason: those who seek power are least suited to having it. This holds true in politics, organized religion, and business. Read a newspaper and you will come across at least one story of a corrupt politician, a religious leader who took advantage of his flock, or a business executive who abused his position.

Humans suffer from greed, selfishness, pride, and host of other malign traits. So I offer you a simple recipe for disaster: push for top-down change without first understanding and improving yourself.

Egregious examples of this include: pro-life activists lobbying for legislation, and happy to kill those in favour of abortion; devotees praying to their god for a loving and peaceful world, without showing love and peace themselves; parents demanding an anti-bullying campaign at their local school, but carelessly callous to their juniors at work.

Bottom-up change is the most important work that you can do. When you find yourself lobbying for some organisational change then stop for a moment. Think. Look in the mirror. Be sure that you are living in line with the change that you’re asking others to make.

"You must be the change that you wish to see in the world"    - Mahatma Gandhi

"Three things in human life are important: the first is to be kind; the second is to be kind; and the third is to be kind."   - Henry James