Grayson Watches You, ©JRobin Whitley 2009

Idealism has been a constant companion in my life. Wanting to be the very best, the kindest, the most loving I held high standards for my actions and truthfully, for those around me. "Practice what you preach," the idiom is one we've all heard and I certainly did try to practice kindness, forgiveness and love (whatever that really means).

Yesterday I sought to practice what I preached, or wrote, regarding the need for us to just do it and not complain. Actions are easy. I can get the work done and not complain. Funny thing though, even though I didn't complain about the work or the act of the work/task at hand, I found myself complaining about the people around me. "Why does she always do that?" I ask myself with exasperation in my mind's voice. Then today, "He's driving me crazy the way he's talking and what does it have to do with the lesson." Complaining takes many forms and even if we aren't speaking aloud, our thoughts of complaint are hardly kept to our own minds. These thoughts affect how we relate to one another and how we pay attention.

When I was younger, I was always afraid to allow those thoughts into my mind because I thought God was watching me like a predator, waiting for that moment of weakness when God could pounce on me and put me and the universe out of misery. Then, when I was introduced to a loving God and others told me it was only "natural" that I wouldn't love everyone, I thought it normal to have those complaining thoughts. Of course, to find fault in another, to be annoyed with another's idiosyncrasies or choices is quite normal and many would say that complaining about those things that bug you is normal too. Perhaps it is, but I am still on this path of believing that all the complaining does is build a wall and keep you from the real truth, the truthful action, the good or better choice. I'm not talking about heaven or hell, but the ability to see the good that is right before us.

Zen Buddhism has a practice called "zazen." In my interest in meditation and more recently yoga, Zazen continues to come up. In the book, "Opening the Hand of Thought" the writers state that the aim of zazen is just sitting, "opening the hand of thought". Others speak of it as mindlessness, or in the Christian Mystical Book, "The Cloud of Unknowing" it means to "unknow" all that is in your mind. Even as I write this short paragraph, the exercise sounds like the puzzle (or "koan") that it is for those who want to progress down a spiritual path.

The thing that we forget when we walk a path, is that more often than not, the goals and other people do not get in our way. What gets in our way is our mind's understanding of things...or the lack of understanding. I was not raised in a family with an alcoholic present so there is no way that I could understand the anxiety that might motivate someone who has lived such a life. Psychology is also a fairly new science and those who are older probably have no reason to wonder why they do the things they do. It's just that they've always done them that way and it seemed to work, or at least was comforting to them. When we impose our own viewpoint, our own interpretations of life onto another, we show a lack of mercy, but also a lack of our own shortcomings. When I judge a man's intelligence upon his ability to convey what I consider to be a "simple" thought, I relegate him to "less than me" no matter what my intentions. When I judge a woman's ability to take care of herself as "old fashioned" I ignore an entire way of living that was never known to me. The Native Americans encourage us to "walk a mile in another's moccasins." The Christian church would say, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

Early church mystics would say that the very thing that bothers us in another is something we need to face in our own lives. You want an example, sadly, I can give you one. In my life, I have been a helper even when people didn't want help. I had good intentions and a heart full of love...or so I thought. I thought I could see what that person needed to be happy, well, and content and yet, in my own life, I couldn't practice what I offered as advice to another. Pop psychologists would say you can't truly love another till you love yourself. Isn't that the same thing that Jesus said when he said, "Love God with all your heart, mind and soul and your neighbor as yourself"? I mean, isn't Jesus implying that "of course you love yourself" and that is how you love another.

Now I can see. In these past two days when my mind complained about another, I was really complaining about me. Why do I do the things I do? Why can't I answer a simple question with a simple answer? This is where my hands go up and claim mystery. I don't know the answer, but I'm looking inside and I'm listening to you. I see those three fingers pointing back at me. What do you see?