Tag Archives: metaphor

Smooth rocks and glass

“Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong.”

― Lao Tzu

This seems to be a time of strong dichotomies, where people hold to their principles and biases. The response to opposing sides runs along two lines, harsh or sarcastic. I would argue that sarcasm is just another form of harsh. In both cases, there is no attempt to win over the other side, merely to call it stupid, or to make fun of it. Neither is an attempt to convince because it is believed that it is too late, that people are too set in their ways.

But compassion, though appearing to be soft, is strong. Authentically caring may seem yielding, but it is strong. “Be like water“. This is not a time to win points, to be louder, to be right in such a way that you only want to prove someone else to be wrong. It is a time to be soft, caring, and kind. To show genuine concern for others. This will not work for everyone, but it will be far more effective than being harsh or sarcastic.

The tides will ebb and flow, and the sharp edges of rocks and glass will slowly be rounded.

Mindfulness is witnessing the dance

“Life is a dance. Mindfulness is witnessing that dance.” ~ Amit Ray

Today’s meditation was about meditation as a means to become a witness, and thus using meditation as a way to disconnect and observe rather than experience.

While I understand that meditation can be used to do this in a positive way, I wonder how many people bare witness to their own lives without actually living, not feeling anything? Kids cutting themselves because that’s when the feel the most; zombies moving through life from sleep to work to alcohol and/or television before sleeping again; people bitter about the hand life dealt them, who live in disappointment, numb to everything around them; lonely people, who may or may not actually be alone.

I think too many people are already witnesses to their own lives. I’m not saying meditation isn’t a good way to do this, but I wonder how many people need to do the reverse? I know that there are times in my own life where I’ve felt like I was existing rather than living, the observer rather than participant, but family and friends are good at snapping me out of this.

The unexamined life may not be worth living, but there can also be paralysis by analysis. You can watch a surfer and see all their moves, you can know everything about the wave, it’s energy and flow, but if it’s you on the surfboard, it’s probably best to be enjoying the ride than trying to witness it.

Happy surfing!

Sharing again

Revisiting my uncle, I was reminded of this story, and my post, forgotten dream:

From my earliest memories I can remember our house containing numerous bookshelves with books double stacked, one in front of the other, with whole sections having books stacked horizontally, so that 6 or 8 horizontal books could take the place of 4 or 5 vertical books.

And I read almost none of them.

The dream was a dream of lost opportunity. Of being blind to the ocean of information that sat before me metaphorically unseen, and literally unread.

Adding to this we need to spend quality time with people we care about… and not take them for granted. It’s easy to think the people closest to us will always be there and forget to treat them the way they deserve to be treated.

Inversely it’s a good thing when we remove people from our lives if they are not worthy of our time. I love this quote by Isaiah Frizzelle about creating boundaries for people that don’t deserve access to your life, “Time does not allow reentry and an apology does not always allow access.”

To the fish, water is invisible. It’s fine for us to ignore the oxygen around us, but we need to pay attention to, and show love and respect to, the people we care about.

The cap gun

When I was a kid, I had a cap gun. It was a eight-shooter, with the caps coming in a ring that fit into the revolver cylinder. Put it in your cap gun and you could shoot off all 8 caps before putting a new ring in. But I never used it, I was always saving my caps. I hid them at my grandparents house, under the bathroom sink in the room my great grandfather used before he died.

This room was sort of my play room that I used at my grandparents, who lived on our street. It wasn’t a room used by anyone… except me. Fast forward to us moving to Canada when I was 9 (we grew up in Barbados). Our bags are packed and we are leaving the next morning. I remember the cap gun and about 30-40 ten-packs of caps. I gather them up and take them to my parents to pack.

“We can’t take that in the plane.”

So, after a little back-and-forth with my parents it becomes clear that the cap gun and hoard of caps is staying in Barbados. So I did what any kid would do… I spent the next 45 minutes to an hour shooting off every cap I had. I shot everything and everyone around me. I spent every last round, and then have the empty gun to my cousin.

It was fun, but not as much fun as using the gun all along, rather than saving every cap for this unforeseen occasion. While it was a moment to remember, it wasn’t memorable because I went on a shooting spree, it was memorable because it wasn’t as enjoyable as I had anticipated, and I realized that I missed out by hoarding caps rather than using them all along.

Today, I still laugh at myself when I catch myself doing something like this. A perfect example is when I get a sticker I like… I find myself not wanting ti use it. But I do. I remember the cap gun and all those unused caps and I peel that sticker and stick it somewhere… it doesn’t get ‘stuck’ in a drawer waiting to be never used.

What are your metaphorical caps, and why aren’t you enjoying them right now?

Standing wave

I remember hearing that on average human cells are replaced every 7-10 years. However, unlike the ship of Theseus not every cell is replaced. Some eye lens cells last a lifetime and there are other cells, such as some in our hearts, that can live for over 50 years. That said, at 53 most of the the cells that made me me when I was born have been replaced, some every couple days, some over years.

Last night coming home from Nanaimo, back to the mainland on the ferry across the Strait of Georgia, I was mesmerized by the standing wave made by the boat. I watched the wake of the boat out over the railing on an opening on the car deck, and stared at the water dancing across this wake. It occurred to me that despite the wake being consistently the same distance from the boat, as I stared at the wake, I was staring at a constant flow of water being replaced by water coming off of the front of the boat. The wave stays the same, but the water is constantly and completely changing.

Inversely, we tend to try to stay the same in an ever-changing world. We develop metaphorical standing waves that treat everything that comes our way the same. We develop patterns of behaviour where we react the same way to people and situations that come our way. Yes, we learn and we grow, but more slowly as we age. We tend to find comfortable, repeatable ways of facing life’s challenges in the same way. Some of us being more like small sail boats that confront every wave a little differently as our boat adjusts, and others more like a massive tanker ship, that keeps the same standing wave in all but the roughest of seas.

What standing waves do we create in our lives? What do we tend to leave in our wake? I’ve met selfish people that leave turmoil and chaos in their wake and go through life selfishly disrupting other people’s wakes, and I’ve met others that are selfless and worry more about helping others with their wakes than worrying about their own. The most dangerous of all are those that think the are the latter but are actually the former… they think they are what makes the seas calm while they themselves are hurricanes, unaware that they are in the calm of the eye of the storm they create, while those around them face the tumultuous winds and rough seas.

We should all think about the wake we create, and we would be advised to keep out of the wake of people who create disruptive waves. And while we slowly replace ourselves with our future selves, we need not create the same old standing waves if they don’t serve us well and move us in a direction we want to go.

Make Lemonade – A life lesson about perspective

This was my yearbook ‘message from the principal’ for Inquiry Hub this year:

_______________

Make Lemonade

          When the backdrop of your school year is a Global Pandemic, it’s hard to think of the things you got to do, and easy to think about all the things you didn’t get to do. It’s hard not to think this way when so much has been taken away from us. We are used to students mixing across grades and getting to know everyone in our community through events and potluck lunches. Well, this was not a year for those things. But when you look at the year we had, we were lucky compared to many high schools.

          We provided all-day schooling when other schools were having students only come to school for half a day and doing another course online, then switching these two around. Meanwhile we had our cohorts in school for the entire day. Other schools rushed students through quarters, with 2 courses at a time. We continued with our year-long classes. Courses in other schools were paired down to the essential curriculum. We had students continue to follow their passions and interests with Inquiries and IDS courses, and teachers continued to look at things in depth, and had time to follow student interests along the way.

          I was watching a TikTok recently and it was about things non-native English speakers didn’t understand when they first learned English, (I am definitely on grown up/teacher TikTok and have a different feed than a younger-than-me generation). The phrase that this person didn’t understand was “If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” To most of us this is a phrase that means, when things are sour and going against you, make the most out of it. However, this woman was from a country and culture where lemons are used to spice things up, and the taste of a lemon is truly enjoyed. To her, “If life gives you lemons, make lemonade,” meant, appreciate the good things in life. She never understood the phrase to mean anything negative. When life gives you a wonderful lemon, well then celebrate and make some lemonade!

          When you look back on the past year, I hope you can see it from the perspective of this lady, and find the delicious lemons you made lemonade out of. Who did you spend more time with? What did you enjoy doing that you don’t usually do? What do you feel lucky that you had, that others didn’t have? If you were living in Toronto this year, you would have spent almost the entire year doing school from home, whether you wanted to or not.

          Also, we are heading into a summer with much less restrictions than last year. What are you looking forward to that you will enjoy even more than you ever have? What opportunities are you going to take advantage of, that you probably wouldn’t have? Where is your family going to travel next?

          It’s time to enjoy your summer… and make  some lemonade.

 

Ocean waves

The ocean has always spoken to me. I love the sound of waves gently crashing on the shore. When I do my morning meditation I have the sound of the ocean in the background. Today as the meditation was ending, I thought of a shoreline and how it is a great metaphor for constant change.

A shoreline is an interesting idea. It is something that can not be measured accurately. The more you zoom in, the longer the shoreline is. From a far distance, the shore on a straight stretch of a beach is almost a straight line. Zoom in and you see an uneven wavy line. Move closer still and within that wavy line are small ebbs and flows, and closer still we see yet a rougher edge, with water moving unevenly across the sand. If you try to measure that shoreline, every zoom in gives you more zigs and zags to measure, lengthening the distance.

The shoreline constantly changes, and still remains a shoreline. We constantly change, yet we remain ourselves. We follow patterns we create over years of being who we are, yet we always have the opportunity to express ourselves differently, to zig and zag in ways we have not done so before. What is certain is that we change over time, but we tend to follow patterns in our lives just like shorelines tend to follow patterns. The difference is that we can make choices, but the ocean must follow set laws of energy, gravity, and viscosity to determine where the shoreline is. We on the other hand can determine how we will move next.

Most often we will follow the patterns we have laid out before us, but sometimes… sometimes we can break free and choose to create a whole new shoreline for ourselves. We have the power to do so, but more often than not, we listen to the waves, we don’t make them.

People are Blackberries

This is a silly metaphor, but it works for me.

Blackberries are a unique fruit. I can eat a handful of raspberries, strawberries, or blueberries, and it doesn’t matter how many I put in my mouth, I enjoy them all the same. That’s not the case for blackberries. Blackberries taste better when you have one at a time. Two blackberries in your mouth are not as enjoyable as just one.

I think this is the case because individual blackberries have distinct taste profiles and these unique qualities get cancelled out when you taste too many of them at once. The collection of taste profiles isn’t as good as tasting them individually.

I like people the same way. One at a time. I enjoy conversations with a single person far more than with a group. I want to hear their profile, I want to focus on the individual. At parties I seldom seek out a group of people. I’d rather have a one-on-one chat.

To me, people are blackberries, not any other berry… and I enjoy them most, one at a time.

The ocean calls me

I was born near the ocean and when I hear waves, it soothes me. When I see the horizon over a body of water it calms me. When I walk the beach shore, I feel like I’m home.

I love to bodysurf. I feel exhilarated when a wave lifts me into its crest. I love the surge of speed as my body descends the wave. I even enjoy the feeling of the wave consuming me when it can no longer propel me forward.

The ocean calls me. It speaks to me. It tells me that when I’m near, I’m where I’m supposed to be.

There are many ways

I love this Chinese proverb:

There are many ways to the top of a mountain, but the view from the summit is the same.

It reminds me that we are all on our own journey; that we don’t have to follow a single path. It reminds me that some people have to work harder than others, and some have to face hardships that others don’t. But we are all seeking happiness or success.

It makes me think about all the different religions, and how they have similar goals. And it makes me realize that one’s faith is not as important as the path they take to their belief’s version of heaven. I have met faithful people in different religions who walk a virtuous path, and I have similarly met people of different religious beliefs who are less virtuous, less caring, generous, or kind… yet they all claim to be heading towards a similar metaphorical summit.

We all walk our own path. Sometimes we share that path with others. Sometimes we walk alone. Sometimes people are walking together and feel alone. Sometimes when we are alone we still feel like we are not alone, I think this can be achieved by self-confidence or by faith. But faith in what? Faith in a belief system that says, “Only through this faith can you reach the summit”?

There are many faiths that set people on virtuous paths. There are many secular people who choose to be virtuous without faith or organized religion. If each of these different people live a good life, are they not heading to the same or similar summits? Do they not deserve the same view?

How many paths are the ‘right’ path? Can there only be one? I doubt it. People who follow the same path don’t all make it to the summit, but community, and family, and friends can certainly make the journey easier. Yet virtue isn’t just about caring for those like you, with similar beliefs and attitudes. Virtue doesn’t spring from being exclusionary. And virtue doesn’t require faith.

There are many ways to the top of a mountain, but the view from the summit is the same.

I wish tolerance and acceptance of others had a greater role in religion. I wish different faiths could see the value in learning about each other’s path, and that people of different faiths learned to take their journeys alongside each other. This seems to happen more often in spite of faith rather than because of it. Or it happens in response to tragedy, but not in everyday life. Yet everyday life is the journey, is the path. Are we not better off believing that we are all on the same mountain, heading to the same summit? Can we not all share the same view when we get there?