August 2017 our gathering for reverence on "self honesty" #unitarians

In this holiday month we were very pleased to see most of our regular participants at our latest meeting, although a couple were absent.  As is our usual practice, during our gathering we lit a candle for absent friends, in recognition of their continued relationship with our group.

Our theme was “self honesty”.  We spoke of a life-long ‘coming out’ that isn't about judging others but about being honest about ourselves.  We reflected on being honest with ourselves, and others, about what we think and feel.  About not protecting those we love from knowing they have hurt us, out of our fear that they don’t care enough about us to change.  About not protecting people in public (and hence ourselves too) from that awkwardness that comes from making it clear their view isn’t shared, so as not to inadvertently – or deliberately – protect them with silence.  Manifestly, the path of self honesty is a hard path.

It is so easy to deny people the opportunity to access new learning about and for themselves by reaching in and prescribing solutions based on our own experience, perceptions and needs.  An old teaching from the desert sages of Egypt was that such denial usually has its source in inattention – not our inattention to the other person, but inattention to ourselves, our assumptions, our needs, our wounds and our blind spots.  A temptation to prescribe solutions for others should instead be seen as an indicator that there is a solution needed for ourselves, and working backwards from that, that there is a need or gap in ourselves that should be addressed.

There is a well known story about three monks.  After their first stage of training, the monks were invited to choose their life paths.  The first chose to devote her life to healing the sick.  The second thought there was a role for him in mediation and peace-making.  The third chose the path of contemplation, and shut herself away from the world.

After some years the first monk was worn out with her labours, and saddened by the very many deaths she saw, despite her best efforts and application of the best medical techniques available.  Exhausted, she needed to recuperate so she went on a journey to find her friends.  On reaching the second monk, she found that he too was extremely weary.  Despite his close attention to the words and arguments of others and his rigorous  shuttle diplomacy, the second monk had found that he could never appease all aggrieved parties and could not fix all the situations that presented themselves.  He was easily persuaded to take a break and to travel with his friend to find the third monk.

When the two companions completed the difficult journey to the abode of the third monk they were so tired that they were just about able to put one foot in front of the other.  Their friend looked up and saw them, then guided them to a small cave with very basic living arrangements.  She motioned them to sit down, and sat down herself.  Lifting a bowl containing dirty water that she had just carried back from her well she placed it in front of them all, and said simply: “Look at the water.”  They were so tired, they didn’t bother talking or asking, but merely followed her instruction, and looked.

They saw that the water was mucky.  They kept watching, and after a while the silt in the water began to drop to the bottom, and the bits of twigs floated to the top.  Some considerable time later the clean, clear nature of the water – the water that the monk needed to live – was evident.  The third monk then said, “There is a benefit in maintaining stillness in the face of all the distractions that the world can place in your path.  No matter our good intent, in devoting ourselves to fixing the never-ending demands of the world we lose the chance to fix the muddy nature of our own selves.”