I met a man recently who got an award from two Jacks years ago.
Jack Lemmon and Jacques Cousteau presented him with an award for work he'd done giving blind people diving lessons.
He told me that part of the program included diving in lake to pick up trash, and because the visibility in that lake is so poor it put the sighted and sightless divers on equal ground. He thought that was very important.
That's an interesting idea - helping someone and allowing yourself to be on equal footing with them. Usually we operate from a position of power when giving to others. I'm well I can help the sick. I'm rich I can help the poor. I'm smart I can help tutor the ignorant. I'm strong I can help the weak.
I'm blind I can help the blind.
We are all flawed, weak - human. It's just a matter of how long it takes us to admit that fact. It might be that some people fool themselves, into thinking they have it all under control, up to and including the time of their death - provided their death comes quickly; it's pretty hard to show how perfect and strong one is as old age or illness take the things, people and capabilities we love away from us.
As paradoxical as it sounds giving up control is the key to recovery and happiness.
We could start by admitting that we are flawed, yet forgiven, well-loved, unique, and paradoxically the same - human beings, who don't have to be "on" all the time. We have our good days, hours, minutes and we have our bad. Giving up some of our ego allows us to be more flexible, growable, and last but not least takes away some of our tendency to not only judge ourselves, but others as well.
I often wonder about reading advice, devotions, scripture and getting the feeling that I've satisfied something in my self that tells me I'm special, different, better - even if it's better at admitting I'm flawed. Anything we do that tends to make us think "I" am not like "you", or "we" are not like "them", is a mistake. In fact any thing makes us believe there is a "them" is wrong at some fundamental level. It really doesn't matter who "they" are - from the worst to the best - there is more of them in us then we would ever dare admit. It is only by compartmentalizing, labeling, boxing off "them' that we make them less human, not us, less worthy of our concern, more worthy of our hate our contempt - our bombs, terrorism, and war.
We can't bear to admit that we are them and we can't stand the ambiguity of not-knowing (as absurd as that is) who they are. Why of course I know you - the Buddhist, Jew, Moslem, Hindu, Christian, Gay, Straight, Democrat, Republican, Conservative, Liberal, Businessman, White Collar, Blue Collar, Hourly, Salaried, with a Bachelor of Arts, of Science, a Masters, a Doctorate, College Educated, Uneducated, Smart, Dull, Artist, Artesian, Left Wing, Right Wing, Young, Old, Man, Woman, Adult, Child, American, European, African, Middle Eastern, Rich, Poor, Short, Tall, Fat, Skinny, person in the third row with the cap on. That's you right? That's what I thought. Boy I had you pegged.
We are all walking and falling. If we allow ourselves the flexibility to love our imperfections, to touch our wounds and others, to make them holy, then we have the opportunity - day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute - to get up and start all over again.
There's a second less obvious aspect to admitting we aren't perfect but are in fact perfect messes. By giving up our fake perfection we allow other people into our lives, energizing and giving life to the golden rule. We allow others to help us, which again somewhat paradoxically, helps them. People need help, people want to help - it's a perfect upward spiral.
Peace to you and may you find whatever it is that gives you a moment of joy.
