Teachers in Disguise

Last night I lay in bed for a while thinking about the people who have been the greatest teachers in my life. What came to mind was quite amazing. I realized that those who have taught me most were not wise men or even educated people, but mostly common folks I met on ordinary occasions. All of them entered my life unexpectedly, and certainly left a mark upon their departure.

You see, sometimes the teachers are not the ones who are in our lives to remain, but those who only come in for a short while and upset the natural order of things during their brief stay. As they walk in, they quickly take on a center role, and become very important to us; we respect them, like them, even reflect ourselves into them. They may open our eyes to certain realities we had not considered before, or even force us to readjust our list of priorities, but their presence rarely goes unnoticed. When they leave – usually just as abruptly as when they arrived - they leave us with a mindful of questions and a feeling of void upon their departure.

Some of the most important teachers – those who have the potential of being catalysts for real change in our lives – are the people who have provoked or created some sort of strife. Their role is rarely a long one, and they accomplish their task in a breath of time; they may come into our lives disguised as a spouse, a lover, a spouse’s mistress, a belligerent co-worker, or even an overly dramatic friend. Their role is to jolt us out of the stagnant, repetitive pattern we have cozily allowed ourselves to find comfort in, and they can only complete their mission through high-charge actions that trigger powerful emotions within us.

By creating an emotional charge with their arrival, stay or departure, our teachers give us the necessary fuel, or the awareness we need, to make important decisions which will affect the way we approach life.

If we can look past the superficial negative connotation of the events that unfolded, we will see that we wouldn’t be who we are today had it not been for some of their input. We may be a better or worse person after meeting them, but that’s only because of the choices WE made in response to their actions. Their presence in our lives only had the purpose of triggering a choice or a different perception; which path we picked at the crossroads of our decisions was strictly up to us; even if one has horrible role models around as a child, they have the choice of following in their caregivers’ footsteps or going the opposite direction, using the example provided to them as a map of the unwanted zone they do not wish to walk into.

In my own life, I’ve met many teachers, young and old, kind and grouchy, rich or very poor; some have beautified my existence, while some have showed me a blueprint of hell; nevertheless, they have all taught me something, and I can only be grateful for the opportunity to have them in my life, even if only for a short while.

Living One Life at a Time - A Reflection Upon Allowing Others to Make their Own Mistakes

“Letting go doesn't mean we don't care. Letting go doesn't mean we shut down. Letting go means we stop trying to force outcomes and make people behave. It means we give up resistance to the way things are, for the moment. It means we stop trying to do the impossible--controlling that which we cannot--and instead, focus on what is possible--which usually means taking care of ourselves. And we do this in gentleness, kindness,
and love, as much as possible.” ~ Melody Beattie


I read a wonderful article on the News & Observer yesterday, in which a mother described how hard it had been for her to allow her children to work on their projects without becoming involved, even if it meant that the projects turned out far from perfect.

Their journey began a few years before, when they joined a series of free kids workshops offered by Home Depot. After the first workshop, the mother was not too sure things had gone as well as she had hoped – little fingers were smashed, the bird house the kids had built was falling apart, and clothes were ruined by wood glue – yet, as time passed, the kids learned important skills.

The hardest thing during the workshops, the mother explained, was to sit back and watch the kids make mistakes without intervening; the greatest lesson, she realized, had been her own – it didn’t matter if the projects weren’t perfect; what mattered was that the children were learning how to read instructions and use tools more efficiently. Mom’s input was not needed.

Allowing others to make their own mistakes is probably one of the greatest challenges we can ever face. Especially in the case of people we love, we wish we could live their lives for them when we feel they are not doing a good job of it on their own, so that we could “fix” their mistakes and help them live a happier existence.

Each of us has a different path to follow, which is not always for others to understand. Even if all we find at the end of the path we chose is misery, we have the right to make those mistakes and learn from them.

Letting go of the control we wish to have on the lives of others is, in many ways, synonymous of letting go of judgment. We can’t expect to understand the many reasons behind the choices others make, just as we can’t truly know what is best for them; all we can do is accept their choices as their own right, and move on with our own lives. We can only live one life at a time – ours or other people’s.

We can’t control the way someone else feels or acts, but we do have ownership on whether we allow their choices to affect our immediate world. By focusing less on what others do, and more on what we choose for ourselves, we can grow in ways we didn’t think possible, and the weight we carry for them is suddenly lifted.

We can’t change others, but we can change ourselves. And by letting others follow their own destiny we might be pleasantly surprised in the end.

When Our Mistakes Become Who We Are

“Just because you make a mistake doesn’t mean you are a mistake.” - Georgette Mosbacher


A few days ago I had an interesting conversation with a lady I met through a friend. She was telling me about her failed marriage, and said that after many years of enduring verbal and emotional abuse she finally decided to count her losses and leave.

It took her so long, she said, because her children were young and she was afraid of not being able to financially weather the separation. She had gone to college before meeting her husband, and had dropped out when she had become pregnant with her first daughter. After that, she had been a stay-at-home mom, and her children had been the light of her existence. She stated that being a mom had been the only thing she knew how to do.

I looked at her in surprise – certainly there has to be something else she is good at and likes to do. When I told her that, her eyes filled with tears. She said that no matter how hard she tries she is a failure by nature. That chilled my blood. Her husband had pointed out her mistakes so often that she had come to believe she could do nothing right. She believed she is the mistake.

After being exposed so long to the verbal attacks, her mind had looked for a reason to justify the abuse, and had come to accept that she deserves it somehow. She felt incapable, unattractive and helpless, regardless of the fact that she is a beautiful and skilled woman.

As we delved deeper into the conversation, she volunteered a little more information – her father had also been quite verbally abusive. She knew he always loved her but had never really accepted that she was different than he.

Her wounds had been patiently etched into the core of her self-worth over time, and at the hands of multiple people. There was a pattern at work here, and I wondered if she was even aware of it. By assuming that her father was right in his criticism – after all he loved her and wouldn’t lie to her, would he? – she had come to accept that she was unworthy of his love. Feeling subconsciously guilty of causing her father unneeded grief, she had sought to continue the punishment he had “lovingly” inflicted on her by marrying a man who was similar to him.

When I pointed out the similarity, she was genuinely surprised and oddly recharged. She asked if I made mistakes often, to which I could only smile - If mistakes were a monetary fund I could easily be set for retirement. Yet, learning from my mistakes has led me to be the person I am today, and I wouldn’t change them for anything.

Mistakes don’t define our character but rather display the mechanisms we use in response to challenges. Someone once said that the worst mistake is our fear of making mistakes, as being afraid to fail will prevents us from trying. Actions can be a mistake, not people. I hope that someday she will be strong enough to see that.

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall, Who's The Smartest One of All?

“True knowledge exists in knowing that you know nothing. And in knowing that you know nothing, that makes you the smartest of all.” ~ Socrates


When I was a young girl, I wanted to know everything. For one thing I was a bookworm, and I suppose the only thing that saved me from being the perfect incarnation of the typical nerd is the fact that I had no need for glasses.

I loved to learn about everything, and every time I heard of people who held several degrees I looked up to them as if they held the map to the Holy Grail. I wanted to be like them – I wanted to speak foreign languages and learn about different cultures, and even learn about weird chemical reactions that most people found boring. Above all, I think that what fascinated me most was the human mind. Every time I had the chance to run across someone suffering from a psychological ailment or another, I read all I could find about the condition – the more I read, the more I wanted to know.

I was just as absorbed by spirituality, and entertained many a discussions with our family priest, Don Battaglini, the man who probably taught me the most important lesson of all. “Learn with your heart” he told me one day, “not with your mind. If you want to know people, observe them, don’t read about them”.

He went on to explain that many people spend their lives learning facts to strengthen their weak beliefs. Without rational explanations, or something written in black ink on white paper, they feel lost and vulnerable. Truth is that we all know what is right in our hearts.

When we feel we know everything, we indeed know nothing. The part of us that feels fulfilled by sheer human knowledge is limited in its perception and can only function within the boundaries of human nature. We fill our heads with empty facts to fill the voids in our hearts.

True knowledge, of ourselves and others, comes to us when we still our minds and realize we know very little. We feel the need to qualify and quantify everything, even that which cannot be catalogued.

Through our limited, flawed perception we assume that someone that knows a lot is smarter than the next guy, and yet we forget that our world is full of educated fools.