When you've met your match, you've found a Teacher. The more irritated, upset, frustrated, angry and hopeless you feel towards that person, the greater the chance of finding a real Truth in yourself. Not a basic "Kumbaya" camp song truth. Not a masochistic "hit me again" truth. Not even (perhaps) a "Jesus" truth. But a Truth about your own heart: pay attention to this irritating, maddening feeling; pay attention to this person who causes to rise this feeling. This is the Truth of your own hate for yourself.
That's the Big One.
The truest Teacher is the one who holds the mirror to our faces and forces us to confront ourselves.
Not to hide behind false laurels. Not to ease into pats-on-the-back. But to honestly face the reflection of our hidden sides--the sides we secretly hate. The Fat Self. The Aging Self. The Selfish Self. The Self who secretly despises our co-workers or boss. The Self who has favorites among our children. The Self who didn't get asked to the Senior Prom. Or picked in softball. Or proposed to or voted for or danced with at the wedding. The Self who dropped out of AA or Al-Anon or Weight Watchers or didn't show up for the last three therapy sessions because they were getting uncomfortably close. The Self that broke dishes on purpose or screamed at the spouse or stole from the poor box at the back of Church (or Synagogue or Mosque).
The Hidden Self who cheats on our taxes; doesn't pay parking tickets; leaves lousy tips for the waitress because we don't care for the way she looks. The Self who flirts when our partner isn't at the party; who kicks the dog when we've had a lousy day and the dog doesn't get out of our way fast enough; the Self who doesn't recycle when nobody's around to notice; the Self who claims to be a Vegetarian but sneaks the odd cheeseburger out on the road; who pretends to "forget" to clean the cat litter box or take out the garbage or put toilet paper on the bathroom roll when we use the last sheet.
The Secret Self who hits our spouse or yells at our parents or cringes when our date uses improper English. The Unloveable Self that has acne or body odor on a hot day or stains our undies or farts when bending over to tie our shoes. The Unforgiveable Self that has an abortion or lies about HIV status or being married. The Self that nobody can stand when drinking or using or depressed and withdrawing into a stinking black hole of despair.
Or maybe these people whom we can't seem to be released from are the Doppleganger of the Self who talks too loudly at parties or in the middle of movies or steals parking spaces right in front of everyone else? Or they are selfish and crude and thinking only of how everything affects THEM and uncaring about how their actions completely control, rule and obliterate the lives of those around them--and when they turn up the volume, they are speaking in OUR VOICES? Their faces are masks of OUR FACES!
When Pema Chodron and other Buddhist teachers talk about being grateful, they are speaking about being most grateful to those who are the hardest to love--because those people are closest to the qualities in ourselves that we find hardest to love. (OMG!)
Our parents.
Our kids.
Our teachers.
Our protégés.
Our classmates.
Our rivals.
Our spouses.
Our partners.
Our clergy.
Our congregation.
Our families.
Our siblings...
Ourselves.
Embrace those people, if only metaphorically (at the start) because they touch those raw places that need to be touched. That need to be opened to the fresh air. In order to bring in oxygen and light. In order to heal--even as it is so painful.
And it is: painful.
Each moment is a chance to learn Ourselves. To free Ourselves. And then, to move forward, constantly evolving, constantly perfecting, constantly growing.
Reaching out, even as we reach in.
Namaste.
That's the Big One.
The truest Teacher is the one who holds the mirror to our faces and forces us to confront ourselves.
Not to hide behind false laurels. Not to ease into pats-on-the-back. But to honestly face the reflection of our hidden sides--the sides we secretly hate. The Fat Self. The Aging Self. The Selfish Self. The Self who secretly despises our co-workers or boss. The Self who has favorites among our children. The Self who didn't get asked to the Senior Prom. Or picked in softball. Or proposed to or voted for or danced with at the wedding. The Self who dropped out of AA or Al-Anon or Weight Watchers or didn't show up for the last three therapy sessions because they were getting uncomfortably close. The Self that broke dishes on purpose or screamed at the spouse or stole from the poor box at the back of Church (or Synagogue or Mosque).
The Hidden Self who cheats on our taxes; doesn't pay parking tickets; leaves lousy tips for the waitress because we don't care for the way she looks. The Self who flirts when our partner isn't at the party; who kicks the dog when we've had a lousy day and the dog doesn't get out of our way fast enough; the Self who doesn't recycle when nobody's around to notice; the Self who claims to be a Vegetarian but sneaks the odd cheeseburger out on the road; who pretends to "forget" to clean the cat litter box or take out the garbage or put toilet paper on the bathroom roll when we use the last sheet.
The Secret Self who hits our spouse or yells at our parents or cringes when our date uses improper English. The Unloveable Self that has acne or body odor on a hot day or stains our undies or farts when bending over to tie our shoes. The Unforgiveable Self that has an abortion or lies about HIV status or being married. The Self that nobody can stand when drinking or using or depressed and withdrawing into a stinking black hole of despair.
Or maybe these people whom we can't seem to be released from are the Doppleganger of the Self who talks too loudly at parties or in the middle of movies or steals parking spaces right in front of everyone else? Or they are selfish and crude and thinking only of how everything affects THEM and uncaring about how their actions completely control, rule and obliterate the lives of those around them--and when they turn up the volume, they are speaking in OUR VOICES? Their faces are masks of OUR FACES!
When Pema Chodron and other Buddhist teachers talk about being grateful, they are speaking about being most grateful to those who are the hardest to love--because those people are closest to the qualities in ourselves that we find hardest to love. (OMG!)
Our parents.
Our kids.
Our teachers.
Our protégés.
Our classmates.
Our rivals.
Our spouses.
Our partners.
Our clergy.
Our congregation.
Our families.
Our siblings...
Ourselves.
Embrace those people, if only metaphorically (at the start) because they touch those raw places that need to be touched. That need to be opened to the fresh air. In order to bring in oxygen and light. In order to heal--even as it is so painful.
And it is: painful.
Each moment is a chance to learn Ourselves. To free Ourselves. And then, to move forward, constantly evolving, constantly perfecting, constantly growing.
Reaching out, even as we reach in.
Namaste.
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