Suppose that a warrior forgot that he was already wearing his pearl on his forehead, and sought for it somewhere else; he might search through the whole world without finding it. But if someone simply pointed it out to him, the warrior would immediately realize that the pearl had been there all the time. --Huang Po
We search. That's what we do. We search for the right answer, the best solution to a problem, the best value for our dollar, the best place to live, and the the best information on how to raise our children. We are good at searching. We have Google and Pinterest at our fingertips--access to a wealth of free information. Our smartphones allow us to search for anything, anytime, anywhere, in an instant. This is revolutionary in so many ways. We can be connected, enlightened, informed, and guided in the touch of a button--unless we have AT&T...In all seriousness, though, searching for something has never been easier than it is right now. In fact, it has become so easy that we rarely consult our own consciousness anymore. The famous painting "The Thinker" might now be rendered with a smartphone in his hand. We rarely just sit in undistracted quiet and think anymore. Our knee-jerk tendency is to search first, reflect later...if there's time...unless it's our turn on Words With Friends...or after we have played a few rounds of Angry Birds. That time we used to spend being "bored" (which neuroscientists will tell you is actually when the creative parts of your brain are lit up like skyscrapers) has been held hostage by our need to be constantly stimulated.
So while we are communicating with several hundred people a day, pinning to Pinterest, posting to facebook, launching virtual bombs onto bird's nests, and finding the latest top-rated item in Consumer Reports while we wait at the drive-through, we are definately stimulated. We are definately informed. We are definately searching. But what have we found? In a constant pursuit of information, we may have run away from ourselves-- our hopes, our longings, our regrets, our priorities. We spend so much time checking in with the outside world, that we have forgotten to check in with ourselves. This is easy to do. In the moment, it often feels better. Reflection is not always an easy thing. It can be fraught with the pain of lost opportunities, broken relationships, and unfullfilled hopes. But pain is not always a bad thing. When we build muscles in our bodies, we are literally tearing muscle tissue so that it can repair itself. It's the repairing of itself (the scar tissue) that is stronger than it was before it was torn. Pain isn't bad in and of itself. It's what we do with our pain, and how we build ourselves back up after the pain that determines whether it will give us strength. This how is the most important part.
The how is not about the individualistic, pull-ourselves-up-by-our-own-bootstraps, need to be perfect and take control of our own destiny. The how is about surrender. For myself, I surrender to God, knowing that Christ's Grace surrounds me and upholds me, and intercedes with sighs and groans too deep for words even when I can't find words. One of the most important ways that that Grace finds me is through the hands, and eyes, and mouth, and ears of people whose hearts are softened by and attuned to Love. I can surrender, and let go of the "shoulds" and "shouldn't haves" on my journey, because my faith and my community are my companions on the journey. Falling down, messing up, letting others down, and letting myself down are not the last word. There is a wonderful book entitled Going to Pieces Without Falling Apart. I love this title, because, for me, the deep-in-our-bones knowledge that we can do this when we have the right support, completely redefines my search criteria: Hope, Meaning, Relationship, Peace, Joy. We search. That's what we do. Let's not search through the whole world without finding it, because we are searching somewhere else. The pearl is right there on our forhead.
We search. That's what we do. We search for the right answer, the best solution to a problem, the best value for our dollar, the best place to live, and the the best information on how to raise our children. We are good at searching. We have Google and Pinterest at our fingertips--access to a wealth of free information. Our smartphones allow us to search for anything, anytime, anywhere, in an instant. This is revolutionary in so many ways. We can be connected, enlightened, informed, and guided in the touch of a button--unless we have AT&T...In all seriousness, though, searching for something has never been easier than it is right now. In fact, it has become so easy that we rarely consult our own consciousness anymore. The famous painting "The Thinker" might now be rendered with a smartphone in his hand. We rarely just sit in undistracted quiet and think anymore. Our knee-jerk tendency is to search first, reflect later...if there's time...unless it's our turn on Words With Friends...or after we have played a few rounds of Angry Birds. That time we used to spend being "bored" (which neuroscientists will tell you is actually when the creative parts of your brain are lit up like skyscrapers) has been held hostage by our need to be constantly stimulated.
So while we are communicating with several hundred people a day, pinning to Pinterest, posting to facebook, launching virtual bombs onto bird's nests, and finding the latest top-rated item in Consumer Reports while we wait at the drive-through, we are definately stimulated. We are definately informed. We are definately searching. But what have we found? In a constant pursuit of information, we may have run away from ourselves-- our hopes, our longings, our regrets, our priorities. We spend so much time checking in with the outside world, that we have forgotten to check in with ourselves. This is easy to do. In the moment, it often feels better. Reflection is not always an easy thing. It can be fraught with the pain of lost opportunities, broken relationships, and unfullfilled hopes. But pain is not always a bad thing. When we build muscles in our bodies, we are literally tearing muscle tissue so that it can repair itself. It's the repairing of itself (the scar tissue) that is stronger than it was before it was torn. Pain isn't bad in and of itself. It's what we do with our pain, and how we build ourselves back up after the pain that determines whether it will give us strength. This how is the most important part.
The how is not about the individualistic, pull-ourselves-up-by-our-own-bootstraps, need to be perfect and take control of our own destiny. The how is about surrender. For myself, I surrender to God, knowing that Christ's Grace surrounds me and upholds me, and intercedes with sighs and groans too deep for words even when I can't find words. One of the most important ways that that Grace finds me is through the hands, and eyes, and mouth, and ears of people whose hearts are softened by and attuned to Love. I can surrender, and let go of the "shoulds" and "shouldn't haves" on my journey, because my faith and my community are my companions on the journey. Falling down, messing up, letting others down, and letting myself down are not the last word. There is a wonderful book entitled Going to Pieces Without Falling Apart. I love this title, because, for me, the deep-in-our-bones knowledge that we can do this when we have the right support, completely redefines my search criteria: Hope, Meaning, Relationship, Peace, Joy. We search. That's what we do. Let's not search through the whole world without finding it, because we are searching somewhere else. The pearl is right there on our forhead.
