Excellence is an art won by training and habituation. We do not act rightly because we have virtue or excellence, but rather we have those because we have acted rightly. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.
– Aristotle
So what is to “act right?” Over the years we (The Boothby Institute/Access) have defined “acting right” as being in such a space as to treat people with dignity, grace and loving-kindness. That would include all people, the ones who agree with us and especially the ones that our minds judge and evaluate as foolish or ignorant. Certainly it would include friends and loved-ones and it would have to include enemies, all those who would do us, themselves or others damage.
So, how is that possible?
It is fairly easy to imagine holding those we love in a context of dignity, grace and loving-kindness (on some days at least) and how does one love an adversary? At the very least it would be to do no harm, intentionally; no physical damage to living things. It would mean that we would have to give up being “right” in our arguments and beliefs.
Wouldn’t that mean that we stood for nothing? On the contrary, it would mean that we stood for dignity, grace and loving-kindness for all people, including and perhaps especially those that might do us or themselves damage.
So for the sake of argument we are defining “acting right” as holding all people in a place of dignity, grace and loving-kindness. In the process, I might have to give up my attachment to my beliefs, perhaps my property or even my life in order to hold fast to this definition.
The irony of what seems like a huge contradiction in terms is illuminated by Jacob Needleman in his book, “Why Can’t We Be Good?”
“The love of truth. One has to see it (experience it) to believe it, to know what it is really like. The love of truth is not what we believe it is when we start the process of thought and dialogue. The ordinary intellect alone cannot really love truth. It can be “interested” in truth, but what it really loves and serves is usually something else, something not so beautiful in us (the need to be right, self-righteousness). As Socrates shows through the genius of Plato’s art, the love of truth can appear only when it has to be paid for inwardly, only when one comes upon the resistance of one’s “own” entrenched opinions. When one comes upon this resistance and still presses on, abandoning the attachment to one’s own thoughts, an inner action is taking place which Socrates presents as a foretaste of “dying.” The true philosopher, he taught, studies death and dying through the act of sacrificing attachment to an “important” thought as it is occurring within one’s own mind.”
So now let me see if I have this clearly. In order to “act right” I will have to give up my need to be right, be about loving kindness, dignity and grace in all things, to the place where I may be able to experience or have a foretaste of “death.” For all extents and purposes, the minute I give up my need to be right and continue to do what I believe to be right, I no longer am concerned about what people think.
The moment one recognizes the truth from their experience, what is necessary is clear and obvious. I must do what I experience as possible to consistently be about dignity, grace and loving-kindness.
I must give up speaking ill of anyone.
I must consistently strive to be in the place of dignity, grace and loving-kindness through self-care and my will.
It will not matter if I am ever caught doing these things.
It will not matter if anyone seems to be effected by these actions.
It will never matter what other people do, think or say.
It is a very strange feeling to experience what you believe to be the truth and no longer feel the need to be right about it or influence others about that experience.
Once you experience the truth there is no middle ground, it is all or nothing at all.
It is impossible to act as if you cannot see.
It is impossible to act as if you cannot hear the screaming of the children who will die today needlessly of hunger and starvation.
It is impossible to act as if you do not know the causes of violence.
I don’t think it means I will be stopping the work that we have done over the last twenty-nine years and it might.
At the moment, I actually don’t experience the need to say anything at all.
Even though I have had this feeling of a near death experience (actually it is about knowing that it is OK to die), I feel calmer than I have felt in years.
Namaste!
It has been a long time, almost five years, since we have run the story of where we learned the definition of the word, Namaste, that is included in many of our communications. In the use of this word, with full intent to include its entire definition, one encompasses everything we really need to know about how to create workability in the world. Given the nature of the previous article, it simply felt “right” to include it here:
NAMASTE! (From the dedication of “Care of the Soul”)*
I honor the place in you where the entire universe resides. I honor the place in you of love, of light, of truth and of peace. And when you are in that place in you and I am in that place in me, there is only one of us.”
The first and last word in this collection of writings is this word, Namaste. It is the most powerful single word I have ever heard. It was taught to me by Marge Knuuti, a nurse and teacher, who heard it on her first trip to Calcutta as a volunteer at the Home for the Dying, established by Mother Theresa. After a long, exhausting trip in the intense heat of the Indian summer, Marge wanted to rest when she arrived. As fate would have it, a new group of people, gathered from the streets of Calcutta, had just been brought to the Home to die with dignity and Marge was pressed into service. Fighting back her own feelings of sickness, she knelt to tend to her first patient. Not only had he been placed in the street but had been struck by a vehicle so that a bone protruded from one leg. As Marge came close, he said, “Namaste.” Marge had no idea what it meant and it was eight hours before she could ask one of the Sisters for its definition. That man, having lived a pauper’s life, in great pain and without anesthesia, set an example of grace, courage and loving-kindness that can be a benchmark for us all. This collection of writings is dedicated to that man and that place in us where there is only one of us.
* Care of the Soul,” a book about self-care, edited and with an introduction about self-care which I wrote that contains quotations from Don Miguel Ruiz, Rachael Naomi Remen, M.D., Deepak Chopra, Thich Nhat Hanh, Marianne Williamson and James Nachtwey. It is available electronically for $15 by contacting us.
With all my love and every blessing!
Namaste!
Bill