The other morning, during the 10 o’clock Hot Yoga session, the teacher and co-owner BA recalled, between postures, the well-known quote from Marianne Williamson that was part of Nelson Mandela’s Presidential inauguration speech:
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.”
You could, if you wanted to, read the remainder of that paragraph in PC 205 First Steps from November 2020. I had read her book, ‘A Return to Love: A Course of Miracles’, many years ago but now don’t remember much more about it, except that she’d recovered from a severe addiction to hard drugs to have a life with purpose and ambition. When I understood that it was not Mandela who had written those words, but Williamson, I had reached for the book on my bookshelf; somewhere in here I had thought, were those words, but where exactly? The amazingly serendipitous moment stays with me today. I closed my eyes, thought about this quotation, and opened the book at random, finding myself at page 165. The first paragraph started: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. …” I kid you not; there it was! SPOOKY or what? Possibly a miracle? You would first have to believe in them …….
Her suggestion is, of course, interesting. That we are more powerful than we imagine, able to achieve so much, able to be so much more; yet a little voice inside our heads stops us, the ‘no you can’t’.
Before I started my 1:1 coaching business, most of the books I read were thrillers in which I could lose myself. Then came a post-divorce period where I felt personal failure and asked myself the ‘Why?’, ‘What It’s For?’ sort of questions. I wasn’t depressed enough to medicate but found comfort in a book called ‘The Game of Life and How to Play It’ by Florence Scovell Shinn. It had been written in 1925 by an American artist and book illustrator who became a ‘New Thought’ spiritual teacher. It’s still in print and her advice and wisdom are timeless.
The huge number of titles in the ‘Self Help’ library is testament to the popularity of the topic, despite a tendency by some to sneer at what’s perceived as psychobabble! There are some real gems, often written by individuals who have experienced something special, something that worked for them. And if it worked for them, it might work for others. “Self-help books can reach people who may never think of engaging in therapy, for them to learn some of the great tools and techniques that are available to assist us to have a better quality of life.” Hear! Hear! And if you can’t afford therapy, just start writing down your thoughts …… for as long as it takes. Sure clears the knots!
Back in the early ‘90s, I spent a couple of years attending an evening philosophy course at the School of Philosophy and Economic Science; the main building is in Mandeville Place, London but this was in a house in South Kensington. I had seen the course advertised on an Underground poster, realised I knew very little about the subject and was intrigued enough to sign up. I soaked it up like a dry sponge does water and am still in touch with my favourite facilitator, Robin Mukherjee, a British screenwriter, author and teacher.
The course used many quotations, some religious, some modern, many from the Bhagavad Gita (Note 1), some oriental, some for example from Shakespeare, all used to illustrate a point or get a discussion started; many have stayed with me.
From ‘Zen Flesh Zen Bones’ (A Collection of Zen and pre-Zen writings brought together by Paul Reps) two particular stories illustrate how a good tale can reinforce a message. I must have lent my own copy of the book to someone, so what follows is from memory. The first is called the Muddy Road and concerns two Zen novices travelling from one town to another. They come to a particularly muddy patch on the road, where an extremely well-dressed and beautiful young woman hesitates, not wanting to get her dainty shoes dirty. One of the novices offers to carry her across the mud, whilst the other admonishes him, saying he should not concern himself with the problems of this woman, particularly this beautiful girl. The girl gets carried across and the Zen novices continue their journey. Later that evening the criticism is still evident. So the novice who carried the girl says: “Listen! I carried the girl across the muddy road and I put her down safety. Why are you still carrying her?”
We carry our experiences with us; they make us what we are and colour our lives. The danger lies in attaching emotions like guilt or anger or fear to them; then they become baggage to be dragged around and that takes energy you could use in a more useful way.
I was reminded of the second recently when I was doing some pro bono coaching with a yoga chum and concerns the issue many of us have, the reluctance to start something, something that may take one out of our comfort zone. An old Zen master has to travel from his cottage to the local town, but it’s a dark and stormy night and his friends urge him to wait until the morning. “But I have a light,” he exclaims, holding up a candle in a lantern. “You won’t see very far ahead with that small light.” “I don’t need to see very far ahead; I just need to see far enough to take the first step.” (See PC 205 First Steps)
Writing on the back cover of ‘The Element: How finding your passion changes everything’ by the late Ken Robinson, Stephen Covey, the well-known author of ‘The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People’, says ‘The Element offers life-altering insights about the discovery of your true best self’. I was so taken by this book that I gave it to a couple of friends for Christmas in 2020. If you don’t know what your passion is, making an effort to find out could easily change your life; read this book for inspiration. (See PC 195 Snippets September 2020)
I’ll continue this topic in a fortnight.
Richard 13th December 2024
Hove
http://www.postcardscribbles.co.uk
Note 1 For instance – “Man is made by his belief. As he believes so he is.”
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