The university of life

It really helps to understand that we have something–that we are something–which is unchangeable, beautiful, completely aware, and continues no matter what. –Ram Dass, in Still Here

It’s my belief–one I feel provides a much-needed perspective on life–that we come here many times. And just as you can’t have all the elements you really love in a single house–you can’t have a tile roof and a thatched roof at the same time–you can’t do everything, be everything, or “have it all” in a single life. Nor should you try.

I believe–though this isn’t something I’d bet the farm on, now that I’m into uncertainty–that we are here as part of our soul’s education. I think of it as analogous to getting a bachelor’s degree. You typically have at least one major and minor, core requirements, and electives. Core requirements would include experiencing all aspects of human existence–male, female, gay, straight, young, old, ability, disability, various races and ethnicities and nationalities, rich, poor (mostly poor, I gather), coupled, single, with children, without. You could think of it as the ultimate in independent study, and you don’t get to keep the handbook and the syllabus in your backpack.

I think we each have preferences, such as a preferred gender, perhaps ethnicity and geographic location, and that’s our major. But a certain percentage of the time, we’re required to live outside our comfort zone. No ifs, ands, or buts. Those are the core requirements.

This yields a balanced education, where we learn that it sucks to be the oppressed, the oppressor, and the one mistaken for the oppressor.

And we learn that life is delicious, no matter who you are.

And we learn that love is all that matters, and war doesn’t work.

And we learn that we are all one.

No doubt many consider this nonsense, and I’m sure there are those who judge it dangerous and pernicious nonsense.

I see it this way … even if I’m completely wrong about this, doesn’t it help to consider that while I may not be in your shoes right now, perhaps I was 50 years ago, or will be 50 years from now? If I’m tempted to generalize about an entire gender, race, profession, or whatever, if I question your right to have any opinion at all given your identity, it’s helpful to recall that I could be talking about myself in another guise. And if it’s true that we are all one–I am.

If I myself have had not only my current perspective, but many others, it becomes immediately obvious that there is no one right perspective. In fact, all perspectives are valid, and make up facets of the truth.

I find it helpful to conclude that there is no comprehensive Truth that I can fully understand here and now. I’m inherently limited by the portion of the curriculum I’m studying. I feel that I can either reconcile myself to that, or to being wrong for sure about whatever dogmatic truth I choose to espouse.

I can catch glimpses of Truth. I can hold on to a simple wisdom–“All you need is love” isn’t a bad one. But being able to explain the Universe A to Z and back again is simply not within human capacity, I believe. So I greet all claims of having all the answers, as well as all denials that any answers exist, with skepticism.

… Nothing you can know that isn’t known
Nothing you can see that isn’t shown
Nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be
It’s easy

All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need

–Mike Leander, John Lennon, Gary Glitter, Paul McCartney

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Being impeccable

When I do good, I feel good; when I do bad, I feel bad, and that is my religion. –Abraham Lincoln

A few years ago, I realized I often felt crummy at the end of the day. Finally it occurred to me to imagine that perhaps this wasn’t necessary, and to wonder why I felt this way. By the time I put two and two together, it had been going on practically my whole life.

Crummy is a technical term of course … I suppose malaise is the sophisticated French word for it, but of course there’s nothing sophisticated about feeling crummy.

What I finally realized was that anytime I knew I wasn’t living up to my values, whenever I crossed my conscience with my actions, I created a bit of ‘yuck’ that stuck with me. By the end of the day, I’d often created a whole pile of yuck that I was dragging around with me. And that felt crummy.

I think perhaps it took me awhile to figure it out because I typically wasn’t breaking any of the major old-school commandments–no killing, lying, stealing, nothing that could get me put away. I was just doing things that ‘everyone’ does. But let’s face it, a lot of those commandments–on their face anyway–set the bar fairly low. Of course, there is that other standard …

This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. –Jesus (John 15:12)

So after a few decades of low-grade yuck, I decided a change was in order. I realized I had the option, whenever a choice between right and wrong presented itself, to simply decide ahead of time that in those circumstances I would automatically, without question, thought, or debate, take the choice I already knew to be right. I realized I could just make it a habit. I think of this practice as ‘being impeccable.’

What this means, to me, is not getting the dig in (no matter how well-deserved), not taking that obvious opportunity for revenge, choosing not to feel resentful when I have every ‘right’ to. It’s not that I don’t remember who has failed me, who’s been hateful, and who’s thrown me under the bus. I remember, and I take measures to protect myself in the future. But I believe there’s the universal law of karma to take care of all of that, and I know that resentment is like drinking poison.

Sarcasm? It happens to be one of my gifts, but unless it will amuse everyone and involves no unkindness, perhaps not. Kicking someone who’s down? I’ve been there, and I haven’t forgotten how much I hate it. A small meanness? There is no meanness small enough. Meanness is am absolutely direct path (do not pass go, do not collect $200) to yuck.

When I feel my ego rearing its head (not a pretty head, by the way), I recognize what’s happening and don’t allow it to take over. (The ego is not exactly impeccable.)

I’m by no means perfect, and on no one’s shortlist for sainthood. I certainly still make mistakes. But in choosing to do better when I know better, I feel like I’m onto something pretty good. At the end of the day, I tend to have peace of mind about the choices I’ve made. And that self-created pile of yuck? History.