How different the world has become from the one I 'left' 10 and a half years ago. How beautiful in certain ways and how devastating in others. The crumbling of the foundations of society are ever present and visible, while the rebuilding and growth are also very real but frequently have to be searched for and drawn attention to.
I've been thinking a lot recently about these three quotations by Bahá'u'lláh (the founder of the Bahá'í Faith) and what they mean to me personally in my own growth as well as to a world that is crumbling and rebuilding on a constant basis:
O MAN OF TWO VISIONS! Close one eye and open the other. Close one to the world and all that is therein, and open the other to the hallowed beauty of the Beloved.
O SON OF THE THRONE! Thy hearing is My hearing, hear thou therewith. Thy sight is My sight, do thou see therewith, that in thine inmost soul thou mayest testify unto My exalted sanctity, and I within Myself may bear witness unto an exalted station for thee.
O SON OF DUST! Blind thine eyes, that thou mayest behold My beauty; stop thine ears, that thou mayest hearken unto the sweet melody of My voice; empty thyself of all learning, that thou mayest partake of My knowledge; and sanctify thyself from riches, that thou mayest obtain a lasting share from the ocean of My eternal wealth. Blind thine eyes, that is, to all save My beauty; stop thine ears to all save My word; empty thyself of all learning save the knowledge of Me; that with a clear vision, a pure heart and an attentive ear thou mayest enter the court of My holiness.A number of situations that have arisen in my day to day life recently have made me really aware how different our lives can be when we close our eyes 'to the world and all that is therein' and when we try to hear and see with the ears and eyes of the spirit. Quite funny things have brought these ideas home to me; like three very different situations that happened to me in the last few weeks over parking (of all things).
One was a difficult interaction with someone in a parking lot over a parking spot, that lead to us both apologizing for our initial reactions and connecting in our shared understanding of one another's realities. While my own initial reaction left me feeling quite ashamed of myself (a feeling it took me days to overcome), the interaction afterwards also left me with such a beautiful and confirming feeling of having had my nobility recognized by another human being, and of meeting someone who shared my yearning to build unity and connection when contention and strife naturally arise.
The second interaction had the opposite effect. I made a human mistake and parked in someone's private parking spot for 30 minutes in the middle of the day (having assumed since it was such a short visit it wouldn't be a problem). The people came home while I was away from the car and no matter how many times I apologized (on the phone as well as in person when the husband came down to move their car), they were quite frustrated with me for having parked there. Don't get me wrong, I've had people park in our private parking space and while I never actually was the one who talked to them (Grayden is far better at those kinds of interactions), I certainly felt a sense of righteous indignation and frustration at their actions. So it's not that I don't understand the way these people felt and reacted. I definitely do, but it was interesting to be in the other shoes with my own reasons for the choice I made, reasons that in the moment seemed reasonable but in hindsight were not very respectful of this particular family. But in contrast to the first interaction, this one left me feeling very small and shamed (again a feeling it took me days to overcome).
A few days later a taxi pulled in front of me as I was leaving our parking lot and if they had stopped just 2 feet backwards, I could have pulled out but instead they blocked me in and blocked the road. In the moment I was frustrated and expressed my frustration to the friend I was driving home, but even just a few minutes later I started thinking about the situation and realized that perhaps the driver had just one thought in his head 'pull in and let out my passenger' and me coming out of the parking lot at that moment wasn't a variable he'd taken into consideration and thus wasn't able to adjust to in time. That's reasonable. I certainly have moments like that.
Somehow these three situations, set side by side, taught me a profound lesson about how we treat one another and also how we treat ourselves. Particularly in stressful situations or in situations where one person is clearly in the wrong. It makes me wonder why it is so much easier to focus on what we ourselves or others do wrong than it is to try to have compassion and empathy, always with the goal of building unity and connection and shared understanding. I wonder why it is so easy to look for the bad first and ignore the possibilities that would make someone's actions understandable? To shame others for their mistakes rather than to accept their apology and trust that it is sincere. To shame ourselves for our own mistakes and hold on to them and let that shame affect our interactions with others. To, in our own minds, look at someone's actions and be angry with them, rather than to try to understand why they might have made the choices they did - or even just to trust that there must be reasons why they made those choices (reasons that aren't inherently wrong) and believe in the good in them?
I've been learning a lot about this in my marriage and in my role as a mother recently as well.
I was searching for some kind of article a month or so ago with ideas for responding to situations where two individuals are both hurt by the words/actions of the other and I found an article titled "Stop Trying to Fix Your Partner's Feelings" that really had a profound impact on the way I think about conflict. I definitely encourage you to read it (it's not long) as I think it is relevant in all areas of our lives. But what it really helped me understand in my interactions with my husband is how important it is to set aside judgment and defensiveness when someone else shares their feelings with us, to accept their feelings as their reality and to acknowledge that reality ("It makes complete sense that you would feel that way", "Those were very hurtful words for me to say", etc.). Through trying to do that, I've realized how important it also is to share how we are feeling rather than to lash out (saying "you know it really hurts me when..." rather than saying something like "you could have just....."). When we lash out it's hard for someone not to be put on the defensive but when we simply state the way we feel, it gives them an opportunity to empathize. It has also taught me though, to hold my breath for a minute when someone else lashes out at me, and try to acknowledge the feeling that is underneath the attack, rather than to get defensive and angry. I can't say I've mastered this in any way, but it's really changed the way I think about these kinds of conflicts.
As a mother, I've been thinking a lot recently about my son's nobility. It's so easy to be frustrated when they are holding us up or when you ask them to do something and they smile and very consciously do something else or more often when you ask them not to do something and they smile and do it again and again. It's easy to feel like their actions are a reflection of your worth and they are basically spitting in your face (haha it's funny to read myself writing that outside of a situation, as clearly a not even 2 year old doesn't have the complexity of thought to act with that kind of foresight, but somehow we attribute it to them anyways in the moment). But, to remember that he is a noble being who is striving to grow towards God, striving to be a good human being, to do right, to show love. A child who is also developing and growing and learning every day and realizing he has power inside him that is separate from me. I feel like remembering this puts a whole new spin on what it means to be a mother. I'm not here to be a dictator, forcing him to do what I want him to do. My role in his life is to to help and guide and protect him as he grows and learns about both his physical and his spiritual realities
As a friend of mine pointed out to me recently, why is it that we treat our children in ways we would never ever treat a friend or another adult? Not to say there isn't a difference between the roles in a friend to friend relationship as opposed to a child to parent relationship, but the nobility and trust and love with which we respond to the needs and wishes of a friend, could very easily translate to the way we speak and respond to our children's needs and wishes. But somehow we're so often in a hurry and seeing the negative in their actions -- "he's taking forever to walk down the stairs by himself, we really need to go faster" "he's deliberately disobeying my request, how do I teach him to obey?" "he's going to knock everything off that shelf, I better grab him and put him in a cart before he makes a mess" -- rather than focusing on their nobility and their light and their growth -- "how amazing to see him learning to walk down the stairs all by himself, we're not in such a hurry that I can't slow down and give him the space to learn this important skill", "he's realizing he has power inside him to make his own choices, how do I ask him questions in a way that helps him to feel empowered to make the choices I'm requesting of him and how do I make sure I'm requesting him to make choices that are right for him?", "he's learning about cause and effect, let's see what happens if he knocks something over, best case, he'll try to pick it up himself, worst case I can help him."
I feel like, if we all took time to really contemplate our own assumptions about ourselves and about those we interact with on all levels - our spouses, our children, our friends, our acquaintances, even (maybe especially) strangers - and then made effort to try to focus on and see the good in ourselves and in each of these people rather than the bad, our entire outlook on life would change, as would the world.
