Blind Men and Elephants

A certain Plebeian received as a gift an overnight trip to a distant city and tickets to a live performance by a famous musician. Although he had heard of the musician, he was utterly unfamiliar with her music, but he enthusiastically made arrangements for the excursion. On the day of his departure, he called a cab to take him to the airport, and along the way he excitedly told the cabbie about his trip and the concert.

"Oh, you'll love her music!" exclaimed the driver. "I have every piece she's done on my iPod and my wife and I listen to her constantly!" The Plebeian was quite happy with the driver's opinion and looked forward to the event all the more.

As he arrived at the airport, he noticed that the performer was on the cover of a gossip magazine. Apparently some shocking and scandalous details about her personal life had come to light. Slightly taken aback, the Plebeian began to wonder if truly beautiful music could come from a person who led that kind of life. He went through security, and having plenty of time, he settled down at an airport coffee shop to ponder.

While he was there, he noticed a man of the cloth sitting alone at a nearby table, so he boldly told the priest about his trip and the concert. The priest's face lit up and he said, "My sister has her autograph. She said that musician is one of the loveliest and most gracious people she has ever met." Greatly reassured, the Plebeian thanked the priest for chatting with him, and he went on to his gate.

While waiting to board the plane, he sat next to a young woman who seemed pleasant enough. As they waited, they talked about their respective trips briefly, and the Plebeian told her about the concert he was to see. The woman smirked and said, "At least you didn't pay for the tickets. Her music is just awful. It all sounds the same. And she has such a boring stage presence. But, I know it's hard to turn down free tickets."

Well, the Plebeian was greatly troubled by the time he boarded the plane, and although he considered not talking to anyone else about his trip until he returned home, he had barely gotten into his seat before the man next to him struck up a conversation. Eventually, he told his neighbor about the concert, and the man said, "You're kidding! My brother went to high school with her. He says she used to run with a really rough crowd. Now she's a real snob. Never talks to anyone from her home town. I heard that she..." And on the story went for most of the flight.

By the time he checked into his hotel, the Plebeian wasn't even sure he wanted to go to the concert. Seeing the distress on his face, the desk clerk asked him if he needed anything else. Since the lobby wasn't busy, the Plebeian told the desk clerk about his dilemma. He had these tickets, and some people had said that her music was great and she was a wonderful person. But some other people thought her music is awful and told him what a horrible person she is.

The desk clerk smiled and said, "Well, you'll just have to see for yourself, then. Other people might have their opinions for any number of reasons, but you have a chance to form your own opinion. And that's ultimately the one that will matter most to you."

So the Plebeian went to the concert.

Attachment

Earlier this week, I submitted a report to a committee where I work. The bulk of the report was intended to outline some of my concerns with a particular project I'm overseeing. I was not at the meeting where this report was passed around and read, so I was expecting some phone calls or emails the next day. I anticipated that people on the committee would want to discuss things further, or express their anger or frustration, or offer suggestions that I haven't yet considered.

I got nothing. No phone calls, no emails, no rocks through the window, and no lavish gifts of appreciation. I was frustrated by the lack of response. Even a little angry. But that triggered a fear in me. What if I had really stepped out of line with this report? I had worded it carefully, and I had three individuals whose opinions I trust read over it before I submitted it. But what if something was easily misconstrued? What if my tone came across differently than I intended? Suddenly I was calling into question the whole of my ability to communicate through the written word, and I went back to a familiar reaction of "I should have just kept my mouth shut."

When I dug a little underneath it, I realized that I was not just submitting a report for the sake of dispersing information. I was somewhat insistent about the result of that communication. And my attachment to the result literally drove me crazy when reality didn't line up with my expectations. I was even willing to doubt myself rather quickly with no information whatsoever on which to base that doubt. Apart from all of the things I believed "should" happen, there were a lot of things I just didn't know. I have no idea what the members of the committee were (or are) thinking, and I don't really know what they plan to do as a group or as individuals.

There have been plenty of times when I was afraid of what I didn't know. How refreshing to recognize the freedom in not needing to know what I simply can't. When I can concentrate on what I actually do know, my decisions and my beliefs become so much clearer.

Learning the Same Lessons

I served on the team that presented a More To Life Weekend in Houston over the last few days. My role was primarily responsible for compiling all of the documents and handouts participants received. When I accepted this role, it was presented as something that could be a bit of a challenge, so I began preparing several days in advance. By the time I arrived at the venue on Friday afternoon, I had several important pieces already in place.

What I learned early on was that other people were committed to my vision of this role. Not only was I able to rely on other people, it was vital for me to do so in order to have things done as impeccably as I wanted. I could have done everything myself, but I didn't have to. There were always enough people on hand to serve in whatever capacity was necessary in each moment, whether it was in my role or any of the many others that fit together to present a high-quality training. It was a real relief to me to recognize that I could trust other people, and that there was plenty of time. And, as I continue to realize, I can trust myself, too. My preparation contributed directly to how smoothly things went.

Then, I got a big surprise yesterday. One of the documents, a fairly important one that participants receive toward the end of the weekend, was not the version that the leadership had intended to distribute. The result may not have been apparent to the participants, but the leadership perceived it as making it easy for people to be less committed to making a powerful difference in the world. My initial reactions were to feel guilt, defensiveness, and shame, and to believe that I had failed and that others were going to hold this against me for a long time.

When I look at the truth of things, though, I see a different picture. I had prepared materials very conscientiously for this weekend. I was receiving a large number of documents from a variety of sources. I had asked for (and gotten) other knowledgeable people to look over what I had created for the participants ahead of time. I didn't know what this particular intended document looked like, or how it differed from what I had received. I could have followed up with the source for this particular document, but I didn't realize at the time how much of a difference it would make.

So, in the end, the guilt and defensiveness and shame are not a direct result of anything that happened. In fact, I am proud of the way I prepared for and carried out my role. I may have missed the mark on one document by not following up as thoroughly as I could have, but I that doesn't bring me anywhere close to failing. My experience over the weekend was that I didn't have to look very hard for people who are willing to contribute to my vision. Who are willing to embrace it as their vision... our vision together. Although a number of people (including myself) overlooked something, I can still trust people and rely on them. They are human beings just like me, and together we can recognize where we are and where we would like to be and chart a course in partnership. And I can still trust myself even when I recognize that I have room for improvement and growth.

Standing on the Tracks

I have been listening to people. Lots of different people in lots of different situations. In person, on the radio, friends, co-workers, politicians, strangers. And I have been thinking, "When do I sound like that?" Pessimistic. Afraid. Panicky even.

It takes many different forms, but I have been noticing more and more the influence of fear on people around me. It plays out like a natural, automatic response to danger, the whole fight or flight thing. Only the danger isn't real. And even if it is, reacting to it won't make it less dangerous. The more I listen to and watch people being fearful, the more I want to push them off the tracks. At least the ones to whom I have direct access.

But I recognize that pushing them off the tracks isn't necessarily the answer. I want to find a graceful way to point out: You are standing in the direct path of a crazy-train of your own device, and if you are willing to take a few steps, your perspective might grant a fuller picture of reality. The crazy-train might be exciting, but it doesn't go to the destination you really want.

And then I look at my own decisions and thought streams, and I recognize how crafty fear can be. I make intentional choices most of the time, but sometimes I stand right on the tracks. My own crazy-train doesn't smack me or crush me, though. It just scoops me up gently and carries me in the opposite direction of where I most want to go. Am I so afraid of getting what I want?
What can I create from fear that is worth creating? Who can I be when I'm in control of my fear and not the other way around?