The Twelve Tools
Page 12
Facts are one thing, interpretation is something else
An example of something which has happened a number of times: two friends met, and in the course of a normal, commonplace meeting, one of them passed a comment. The other interpreted the comment according to what he understood and was offended. The first explained that he didn’t mean it that way, and he had been misunderstood. The second interpreted this as further judgmental criticism, and he was even more offended. The first tried in vain to soften it, until he was offended too, and the situation got really complicated. Recognize this? Sounds familiar? Sometimes it happens that we’re so sure of something that somebody said, or did, or intended to do, it makes no difference when she explains that she meant something else. How many times has it happened that even before someone has explained to us, we have already interpreted his or her words or behavior, and responded appropriately? The question is -- in accordance with what have we responded? -- in accordance with reality, or with our interpretation? And how do we distinguish between them, anyway?
We have already said that, in fact, we are living our story about the facts of reality. Reality exists in its own right; we take it, filter it through all kinds of processes, and then work on it and interpret what’s left of the filtered reality, adding flavors, condiments, and a little imagination, sure that what we told ourselves in our interpretation is objective reality, as it is. Thus, even our response to the story of reality that we are telling seems to us like the most realistic and appropriate thing, and please don’t confuse us with explanations or facts, even when they’re different or contradictory. In personal relationships, especially close ones, a similar process happens too often. We’re sure that we know what the other person meant even before she knows herself what she meant, if indeed she meant anything at all. We have a story and its interpretation all ready for her. Our mechanism isn’t capable of distinguishing between facts, even those that we absorb in a selective process of perception -- and interpretations are influenced by so many things, some of which we have already described -- feeling, thought, memory, imagination, situation, and background.
However complicated it is to distinguish between facts and our interpretations, what is even more complicated is seeing facts for a moment through the eyes of another, understanding the interpretations of somebody else. Understanding of this kind brings the parties closer together, and it also helps us to see how our propensity for interpretations tends to distort reality. When, just for a moment, we see the world as the other person interprets it -- for example, when we listen in inner tranquility to somebody else and even ask her what she meant, for a moment it’s as if we’re putting ourselves in her place. Then momentarily, our distorted picture of the world will fade and we’ll see an alternative. Let’s think of how many “juicy” arguments we’ve had recently. Imagine how they would look if, instead of relying on entrenched opinion and believing that this opinion of ours will “prevail,” we were to listen to the person facing us and try for a moment to see the world through his or her eyes. Even if, in the end, we still didn’t agree, there would be some prospect of compromise and reconciliation.
The attempt to distinguish between facts and interpretation raises the issue of the distinction between subjective and objective. For us, people who live, function, and respond in the world, nothing is objective. Everything is absorbed via the senses and passes through various filters. The moment we accept the fact that we’re unable to recognize the objective, this acceptance reduces the firmness of our grip on the story that we tell ourselves about reality. Awareness that this is our relative and subjective story takes from it the halo of objectivity and justified truth. The Divine, being self-determinant and unconditional, liberated from all dependence, stands beyond the distinction between subject and object. When we live the world for a moment as if out of The Divine, we’re close to something which rises above the everyday subjectivity. In order to live the world for a moment out of The Divine, to be in a state of grace, we need, at least for a moment, to put aside or move away from our self-centeredness, which is also the focus of our subjectivity. Thus, in fact, the distinction of our relative subjectivity takes us on a journey from great self-centeredness to its diminution and helps us focus on The Divine, as we live it for a moment and beyond our understanding and our interpretation.
It’s possible to simplify what I’ve said here -- our interpretation of reality is major subjectivity masquerading as an apparently objective explanation. So long as we relate to it and to ourselves in great seriousness as if we’re capable of knowing the world in objectivity, we’re distorting, and on a grand scale. The moment we are aware of the limitations of our relative human subjectivity, and relate to ourselves and to others accordingly, we improve our ability to distinguish between reality and our interpretation, and we can also for a few moments understand an alternative interpretation of reality.
A simple practice that can help us is to ask ourselves at the end of the day about the facts that we encountered today and our interpretations of those facts. In particular, let’s focus on our interpretations of others. To our interpretation let’s add an alternative interpretation, preferably that of another person. A regular practice, in its own way, creates a habit, to the point where the ability becomes an inseparable part of our daily life.
An example: A likeable man revealed in a meeting between us that he tends to perceive and interpret the world through the eyes of “victimhood,” i.e. in a large proportion of his contacts with people in the course of the day, he interprets the situation as if they’re trying to hurt him, taking something from him, or denying him something he deserves. This tendency derives from various causes, only partially known. It is even expressed, and perhaps especially so, in his relationship with his loving wife, who supports him in everything he does. On the one hand, he rejoices in her love and in her supportive understanding; on the other hand, in their conversations about the matters of the day, he’s sure that she’s trying to belittle him, to hurt him, and to dominate him. It isn’t only her -- almost all of his personal interactions have been infiltrated by the victim-perception. When he became aware that victimhood was his interpretation and began to examine himself, there was a reversal. He succeeded in seeing how the victimhood began to rise in his consciousness and introduce itself as an interpretation, and here and there he found he had the ability to choose -- whether to continue in the direction of victimhood, or to leave it behind and just live in the situation as it is. The very fact that he had a choice was a welcome change and a great relief to him.
***
Let’s take a moment of silence. Let’s stop everything and focus on facts. Breathing, for example. Focus on breathing is a marvelous way of returning straightaway to facts and to reality, with awareness of the sensation of air entering the body and leaving it. There isn’t much to tell here, just air moving in and out. When we return to the basic facts, something in our consciousness is relieved. Reality can still kick and bite, or caress and delight, but without our story it looks completely different. Just reality, painful or pleasant. This distinction is a basic method for progress in leaving self-centeredness behind, because it is this that hides reality from us and invents stories about it.
The more we live these stories -- through suffering or pleasure, confused emotions, misleading thoughts, instructive interpretations, or complex relationships -- self-centeredness takes a firmer grip on us. Or we cling to it, and to the story that it offers us. The distinction of facts themselves, without story or interpretation, enables us over time to sense through intuition what stands beyond every fact, and it is reality itself and for itself, cleansed from every fact of reality. Sometimes we even get a tiny flash from it, of this wonderful experience
Distinguishing facts is a work of self-awareness. A growing ability to distinguish facts expresses development of our self-awareness. Exercising this tool increases our awareness of the inner processes that we go through. More and
more, we can distinguish the place to which thought is guiding us at any given moment, and which story our feeling is trying to tell us. We can refrain from collaborating with them, according to our choice, and this is a growing ability. More and more, we can ask ourselves what in our befuddled consciousness could bring us close to the vision of grace? We can distinguish between what it is that strengthens in us the grace that we would like to attain and what it is that weakens it. “Just for Today” helps the choice, which is the choice of our lives, renewed at any moment.
TOOL 6
Being Positive
Assume for yourself a master, acquire for yourself a friend, and judge every man to the side of merit. (Ethics of the Fathers, Ch. 1, 6)
Let’s start as usual with a moment of silence. … Into the silence, let’s introduce the memory of complaints that we’ve had today, or any previous day. Let’s choose one of them, something that tends to recur. We’ll watch it from the moment it appears in our consciousness, still small, and see how it gathers strength, filling our consciousness; we’ll see what caused it and against whom it’s directed, and what happens with it -- what do we do when it arises -- and we’ll finish with its subsidence, or if it hasn’t subsided yet, we’ll finish with its non-subsidence. … Thank you.
We live our story for better or for worse, identifying with it totally. The story displays our self-centeredness. Suspension of this identification helps us to some extent to put a stop to self-centeredness. With the help of the “Being Positive” tool we can tell ourselves a different story, which evades self-centeredness; a story that tries to distinguish and arrange facts in a way that expresses the meaning of grace. The new story guides us towards the leading principle of the Graceway: to live the grace that we want to encounter.
I have, and I need nothing from them
Lily was a manager in a small company. In terms of salary, she earned less than the normal wage for a job like hers. From time to time, she applied for a pay-raise, but somehow, the manager senior to her succeeded in explaining to her that the financial state of the company was dire, and her request was impertinent and inconsiderate, and she should be thinking of ways to save the company’s expenses rather than adding to them. Filled with feelings of guilt she would abandon the attempt to get a pay-raise until the next time, and the distance between times only grew. Why did this happen? Whenever Lily was applying to her boss for an increase in salary, on an unspoken level she wanted something more, and that was his appreciation or a positive relationship. In this case, Lily exemplifies a common social tendency, known as “emotional begging,” which leads us to look to others for “emotional generosity” -- responses with a positive feeling -- to satisfy what seems to us a powerful emotional need. From the point of view of Lily, who was looking for “emotional generosity” in most of her social contacts, the worst thing was to receive from him a rebuke or lack of appreciation, and so the manager only had to begin to “put on a sour face,” and she would fold at once, and was almost prepared to contribute to the company’s profits from her own resources, if only he would tell her she was wonderful and switch off that baleful look.
What essentially motivated Lily was the feeling that she needed positive emotional feedback from the manager, and although apparently she was meeting with him to discuss her salary, what she really wanted from him was a positive relationship. Her need for appreciation was stronger than her desire for a pay-raise. When we put things in order, it turned out that she didn’t respect him that much as a manager and, in fact, his opinion of her didn’t matter to her; it was only when they met that she would feel an uncontrollable need to please him and earn his appreciation. With this in mind, together we devised a new plan of action for her: to arrange a meeting with her boss to discuss her salary; before the meeting to sit by herself and remind herself repeatedly that she didn’t need anything from him. In fact, she should inundate her consciousness with the statement: “I need nothing from him.” She doesn’t even need the pay-raise -- if she gets it -- fine, if she doesn’t get it, that’s fine too. Liberated from such expectations, she would no longer be dependent on him, not dependent on his appreciation or his decisiveness. This she did. During the meeting, when he repeated his standard mantra of “no money” and tried to blame her for it, she repeated to herself incessantly the words: “I need nothing from him,” looked him in the eye, and repeated her request, showing her indifference to his authority. The results exceeded her expectations. In addition to the pay-raise that she received, she earned a boost to her self-esteem, which was the crucial thing.
Since then I have transferred the statement, “I need nothing from him,” credited to Lily, to many other people who have used it and enjoyed the independence that it confers. One of them was Michelle, a woman whose relationship with her husband was in jeopardy; he was systematically bullying her, verbally and emotionally, and exploiting her emotional dependence on him. I suggested the statement to her, as a way of releasing her from the trap of his abusive behavior. She thought about this for a moment and in her sincere wisdom said this was almost enough, but in fact she needed nothing from him because she had resources of her own. Thus, the addition of “I have” is credited to Michelle. Without any planning and without knowing each other, she and Lily created a motto together that has helped and is helping many people: “I have, and I need nothing from them.” We have, and we need nothing from them, from him, from her, from anyone who comes along, even from ourselves.
We have already spoken of the thought “I have not,” and suggested gratitude as a tool that turns it into a feeling of “I have.” The statement, “I have, and I need nothing from them,” is more focused, without the intermediary of gratitude. It completes it and adds to it. Sometimes we use one and sometimes the other, or both, which is often better still.
What is the meaning of “I have”? Gratitude suggests a way of seeing what we have. The Serenity Prayer points to what we have, beginning with “God”, i.e. declaring that we have a God, and continuing with the ability to accept and to change our response, and the developing wisdom to distinguish between things.
In a moment of stress or conflict, we are helped by the very knowledge that we have, the knowledge that replaces the thought that we have not, and it’s less important to understand what we have. We focus on how we undergo change, and we’re less concerned with what we have, in the understanding that what we have will stand up and clarify itself, of its own volition and in its own time.
The thought “I have not” is a thought that eats at us from the inside and builds for us a reality of needs, dependences and expectations, which complicates simple things and distorts them. Instead of struggling with the thought, seeing for ourselves that it’s a false one, we suggest here something very focused, behavioral, simple, and easy to implement: the repetition of a new message to ourselves, the message of “I have, and I need nothing from anyone else to fulfill myself.” Even from myself I need nothing. Every person, by virtue of the very human substance, has. We are the ones who turn the essence of having into an experience of “I have not.” The statement: “I have, and I need nothing from them” -- changes our inner voice and the story that we tell ourselves, and it offers us a new story. Even if, at first, it’s made in a somewhat technical way -- it works. The awareness that it works, that with its help we succeed in changing, strengthens us further in the process of change and turns into a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Let’s take a brief moment of silence, and into it let’s introduce the statement, “I have, and I need nothing from him or from her.” We’ll just repeat it, without understanding, interpretation or analysis, filling our consciousness with it, as if it’s the only voice that is left. Now and then, as the days pass, we shall return to this -- stop and for a moment remember that we have, and we don’t need anything from anyone. This pause for recollection is like a positive shower for the soul, liberation from dependence. If with the passage of time we find ourselves dist
ressed on account of something that we lack, this is the time to inundate ourselves with this statement and drown the distress. Good luck.
Without complaints
We opened the meeting today with a look at our complaints. A complaint is an interesting situation. It turns out that although it is apparently unpleasant, there is an element of satisfaction about it; it liberates us from stress, and in addition, other things happen which are pleasant for a moment, such as a feeling of moral superiority over someone, or receiving support from others. Sometimes there is a deceptive sense of purification, of painful self-pity, from which we apparently can gain something. If we examine ourselves sincerely, it seems that complaining is something that most of us consciously enjoy. We complain, and we enjoy the very fact of complaining. Well, almost. Because in complaints there is also something else, which doesn’t contribute anything to us or to our prosperity, despite the way it seems to us, and it certainly doesn’t move us on. When the consciousness is flooded by complaints, how much grace is there in our lives at that moment? To what extent, at that moment, are we living the grace that we want to encounter? Not a great deal, obviously. To turn the question around -- to what extent are we in the grip of self-centeredness when making a complaint? The answer to this is equally obvious. A great deal. A complaint is one of the prominent ways that self-centeredness takes control of our consciousness.
A complaint is a thought, which is sometimes expressed in a verbal form (for example, complaining aloud) or a behavioral form (for example, a sour expression on the face, a stare or a grimace), a thought, which sees something negative, interprets something as negative, and expresses it. A complaint is a thought that is critical, not content with the way things are, not feeling well. What about us? It depends on how far we identify with the thought, to what extent we feed it with more thoughts and actions, to what extent we tell ourselves its story as if it were reality. Does a complaint contribute anything to us? Apparently, yes. In the short term. But on the other hand, it’s like a negative poison that we concoct and pour into our minds. Maybe it’s nice for a moment, but it’s toxic.