Right to Privacy, or Self-Isolation?

“It means a great deal to those who are oppressed to know that they are not alone. And never let anyone tell you that what you are doing is insignificant” -Bishop Desmond Tutu

While I was growing up, people related to one another differently than they do today. Everybody knew everybody. As annoying as it was that your neighbor knew whom you were going out on a date with before you did, the closeness served a purpose: We all felt like we were part of a big family.

Then I grew up; I moved away, and times changed. In eleven years living in my first house, I probably met six neighbors; in my current house about eight. In fact, rather than meeting them, I should say we have passed one another while walking our pets or children and smiled cordially. No warmth there, aside from a pasted smile after a long day at work and a standard, automated greeting.

People of our generation have become isolated. They meet on predetermined social occasions, and maybe even talk on the phone often, but the camaraderie of having a “Rhoda” busting through our unlocked door is something that’s only preserved on “The Mary Tyler Moore” show.

Regardless of race, religious beliefs, political affiliations and other societal boundaries, we are all human beings and all are on the same boat sharing a journey. Larger cities with a high density of population such as New York or LA are even worse - millions of people live there, but many of them keep a constant shield in front of their hearts, afraid to meet or talk to a stranger.

We hide and isolate ourselves to be safe, to have space, to protect our rights to privacy; yet all that we are doing is creating widespread loneliness. Human beings have an innate need to connect to one another – whenever we go in the opposite direction, honoring fear, doubt and unfounded judgment, we do not do ourselves any favors. If we could take down the shield and show who we truly are – exposing the core of our weaknesses and strengths – we would be surprised at just how many people share our same feelings. Once the connection is made, everyone feels better simply by knowing they are not alone – someone understands what they are going through.

Why can’t we connect the same way with everyone we meet? Do we need to walk up a mountain to know the path is steep? In order to expect others to open up to us and be willing to connect, we have to start with ourselves. We are all unique and important in our own individual ways, yet we are all fruits of the same tree – there is no reason for us to fall so far apart.


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The Teacher Who Came Dresses as a Monster

“A great teacher is like a candle – it consumes itself to light the way for others.” ~ Author unknown


A few months ago, I read somewhere that the two greatest teachers of compassion the world has ever seen are Hitler and the Dalai Lama. Being a huge fan of the Dalai Lama but personally not too sold on Hitler, this statement struck me as strange – how could anyone compare a holy man whose life purpose is to spread peace and compassion, to a military figure whose intent seemed to be one fed by hatred?

The question hovered around my thoughts the whole day, until that night when one of my children misbehaved, and I had no choice left but punish him by not letting him attend an event he had his heart set on. Now, if you were a fly in my house, you would know that my two boys argue over anything under the sun, and sometimes even about something above it; any chance they have to get the other in trouble they jump on it like a cowboy on a horse. But, this time, one brother had gotten in trouble all on his own, with no trickery necessary, so the natural order of things was upset.

Suddenly, one would have thought that I had given an innocent man a death sentence – not just one kid was mad at me…they all were, including Morgan who normally gets stumped by her big brothers and thrives on seeing them get what they deserve! Never had I seen so much love and compassion among my kids as I saw that night – they talked kindly to one another, and went overboard with small pleasantries that were, until that fateful day, a mother’s wishful thinking.

That’s when the meaning of that statement made it home. Certainly Hitler and the Dalai Lama are very different people, and they affect others in their own unique ways, but the teaching behind their actions is similar in the end – one inspired the world to feel compassionate toward people who had suffered from his heinous acts, while the other inspired his followers to be compassionate because compassion is part of the truth our collective soul must embrace.

We are conditioned to think of a teacher as someone who will lead through knowledge and wisdom alone, but sometimes teachers come masked in strange clothes. And, oddly enough, we tend to learn more, and much more quickly, since our attention is instantly seized from explosive events and actions. It might take us a lifetime to learn to appreciate a sunrise, or a kind smile, but if we find out our days are threatened by illness, that awareness will surface with light speed, as we feel we don’t have any time to lose.

Before going to bed that night, I thought again about the comparison between the two men, and about my children instantly pulling together after one was “too harshly” punished. In my children’s situation, anger and resentment toward the external force that had thrown one of their own into the dungeon, had caused them to choose love over sibling rivalry. I closed my eyes, feeling satisfied; though in their eyes I had momentarily morphed into Hitler, they had embraced the qualities of the Dalai Lama I admire so much. Only for one evening, mind you, but that was good enough for me.


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The Tree House

"In order to reach your goals, you will have to climb a long way and be frightened. But take it a step at a time"

Those were the words a kind uncle uttered one day, as his young niece expressed her fear of climbing the ladder leading to the tree house he had built. Their home was a two- story Victorian with a steep pitched roof. The tree house was in an old Oak tree, and it was higher than the roof top of the Victorian house. To the little girl who stood at the bottom of the tree, the tree house seemed to float above the clouds, and she was apprehensive about going up. Despite her fears, her uncle gently nudged her to start climbing.

Many years later, as she worked her way through college, and struggled juggling jobs and school work, the girl always remembered that day, and thoughts of the tree house propelled her forward toward achieving greater heights.

Even if the heights we are attempting to reach are not unthinkable ones, it is quite common to be frightened when we contemplate our goals. Just like the tree house, our dreams seem exceedingly distant and it is easy to forget that each step gets us closer to destination.

We may not see the results right away, and that’s usually discouraging. Once a goal is set, faith must carry us the rest of the way. We can’t look down, or else we will fall. We can only go forward, one step at a time, knowing that we WILL get to the tree house if we keep up our efforts.

Growing up, I had a friend who had weight problems. Periodically, she would get motivated to try a new diet, but after following it for a week or two, she would give up. When I asked why she didn’t stick with the regimen, she always replied that she wasn’t losing any weight anyway. In reality, it was not true. Even after a week, one could tell that something was slightly changing, but it would have taken several weeks to see noticeable results. The change was not dramatic enough to keep her committed to her goal.

A few years ago, I ran into her while visiting my parents, and saw that she had lost an amazing amount of weight. When I asked her what had finally worked, she said: "I just decided to stick with the diet, regardless of the immediate lack of reward." Although she could not see tangible results, she had decided to have faith and continue – the pounds began to melt off, and a new woman, smiling and confident, was born.

Fear of failure is probably the greatest deterrent of going far. We are afraid of not making it, so we don’t even try. Once that fear is conquered, and faith takes over, the worst is done.

The little girl of the story had a special place in the heart for the uncle that encouraged her to climb the tree house and she will always know that when she is scared of anything, she can think of that beautiful, sunny day.

I am certain her uncle, who recently passed away, is smiling down at her from the top of the tree house, proud of all she has conquered. In fact, I think he is doing that right now.

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