The other day while transplanting earthworms from the acequia to the strawberry patch, Henry tripped and dropped his worm on our gravel driveway. I rushed over to find it and return it to softer ground. Despite looking closely within a wide radius of where I thought it could be, I didn’t see it. Henry, coincidentally, was no help. So, I brought the hose over and drenched the area with water in hopes the worm could dig itself into the ground. Am I an elightened Buddhist? No, I am not. I do however believe the worm is innocent and I tell my children when they encounter a creature that is less powerful than them, if you were caught in a bad situation, I would hope someone would show mercy on you as well.
I mention this because on the same day as operation earthworm rescue, I caught myself wishing ill will on someone who I am struggling with. To be clear, I was not wishing for death or disease, but more like an exciting job offer in Barstow.
I found it curious though, that I would go through the process of trying to save an earthworm and at the same time harbor negative feelings for my fellow human. A Buddhist would say they are both innocent. This person’s behavior though, especially towards me, is painful and its easiest to blame them, hate them, wish them away. That’s the easiest thing to do but it’s not the most helpful. Not for that person, and far more importantly, not for me either. Besides, we know where meanness comes from. Hurt people hurt people.
Wayne Dyer says, “Change how you look at things, and the things you look at will change.” Jesus told us to pray for those who treat us badly. Elle Woods said, “Happy people just don’t murder their husbands.” Or harass their coworkers. But I digress.
Here’s the thing: It’s relatively easy for me to understand why people do what they do. I’m a social worker. It’s kind of what we do. It’s also relatively easy for me to extend compassion towards them. So, if that’s easy, what’s hard? Telling someone to fuck off WHILST extending compassion to them. That’s hard. And Yes, I believe the two things can coexist. I also believe if I could master this paradox, my life would be markedly more authentic and peaceful.
I was bullied for a bit during my youth. Teased, threatened, physically assaulted. I was afraid to go to school from about age 13 to age 15. Two years I barely remember except for a few moments of sheer terror and mortification. I have had fleeting thoughts about my bullies over the years. There were two. I learned much later in life that both of them were being sexually abused at home from about the time they were toddlers until well into high school. This doesn’t excuse their behavior but it sure helps me understand where they were coming from. How awful to have their childhoods ripped away and how annoying I must have been to them. Silly, precocious, loved, innocence intact.
It’s not my fault they came after me. It’s almost not their fault either. Except we are responsible for how we manage the pain in our lives. Feeling our feelings without hurting ourselves or anyone else, now that’s masterful.
I do regret not fighting back. This is common amongst survivors. Somehow, of all the F’s (fight, flight, freeze, fawn) fighting is considered superior to the rest. Survivors often carry shame about having responded any other way, even though we know our reptilian brains conduct a split second evaluation of the situation and based on that, our bodies respond in the way that is most likely to guarantee our survival. It is not a conscious decision. It’s a brilliant one. Still, even if it had meant a worse outcome for me, I wish I would have told them to fuck off. I think if I had, I would not keep repeating these experiences as an adult. The universe is much like the teacher who keeps handing back your paper until you get it right. Nope, again. Still not getting it Dorothy, do it again. Until finally, a breakthrough. So, this is where I am. Summoning the courage to stand my ground without losing my humanity.
Joy Practice 