Fourth Form of Madness

When I was eight I broke the tip of my right elbow.   I was devising and participating in a monkey bar challenge where you were only allowed to swing from every 2nd bar as you made your way across.  As it turns out it was a bit to challenging for me, and I found myself on the ground with my right arm over a metal railing.  My arm began to throb and swell and as the bell signifying the end of recess rang it was all I could do to pick myself up and cradle my now swollen arm into my body as I made my way to class.

On this particular day it was religious studies after recess.  I was new to the school and when I was younger and in primary school I was a relatively shy kid.  I was actually quite terrified of how mean people could be to each so I was always quiet so to not evoke attention.  So there I sat in my seat in religious studies with my swollen arm and teary face, sniffing quietly to myself trying not to attract attention.  Even so I don’t think I was exactly in “stelth” mode and reflecting back as an adult now, I think it would have been clear I was in some sort of distress.

The religious studies man wasn’t  a regular teacher at the school, in fact, to be honest I was new and young and had only been at the school for a few weeks so looking back now I am not sure where he blew in from.  But he loved his religious text, man he loved that text.  He loved the text so much he completely ignored me and my suffering and obvious physical distress to talk to the class about stories of caring for your fellow human being and neighbourly love.  Even at eight and in immense pain the irony of what he was teaching and the absolutely incongruent nature of his actions did not escape me 🙂  Nor did it escape my regular teacher who upon entering the classroom just at the end of the session laid eyes on me and my enormous arm and proceeded to scream at the religious studies man whilst ushering me out of the room to the school nurse.

The gap between our words and our practice can be huge and we can be blind to it.  Where there exists theory without practice or even practice without theory usually you will find dogma.  A repetitive empty loop that long ago was emptied of it meaning leaving just the form to fend for itself.  The forms best defence is usually rigidity.  Rejection of change and of anything different, anything that threatens it’s self created concrete view of the world.  Dogma can not abide fluidity.  Fluidity is dogma’s kryptonite.  The ability not to have to give an answer to everything, to believe in the magic of this world, this life and not to have to be explained how the mystery works but just to trust in its magic.  To be able to accept and work with what ever life brings and to realise there might be one question but there are many answers creates an environment that dogma simply can not survive in.

An excellent source of fluidity comes from the balance of practice and theory.  Where each is used to shape and constantly develop the other. Each is used to keep the other accountable and to keep the other in check as the growth of each is facilitated and nurtured by the partnership.  The process is continuous and innately limitless as long as the two are balanced.

So how on an everyday level can we practice fluidity?  One of my favourite practices I learnt through philosophy and my husband constantly reminding me of this bad habit of mine 🙂 It is a simple practice.  Every time you hear yourself say “I know………”, challenge yourself to prove to yourself if you are justified in using the word “know”.  “Know” is a big word.  It means you know without any doubt, any doubt what so ever, that you are right.  That you are in truth.  When we start to examine when we use the word “know” often what we find is that we are using the word “know” in place of “think” or “believe” or even “current research”- these are different words.  So maybe set yourself a challenge for the next week to catch yourself every time you hear yourself say “I know……” and ask yourself “Do I really?” or even “Can I ever really know in the true sense of the word?”.  Don’t drive yourself crazy but have fun with it and let it melt the rigidity of the concreteness that often accompanies the world “know” from your very heart and soul.