In her wonderful book, The Seeker and the Monk, Sophfronia Scott tells an interesting story about attending a lecture with a bunch of her friends. An important part of the story is the trip to the lecture. There were enough of her friends, they needed a few cars to make the trip. She says that the speech was amazingly good. It precipitated a riveting discussion among the friends in the car she was riding as they returned home. The she shares this part of the story. “A few days later, I was surprised to learn the people in the other cars didn’t discuss the talk on the drive home---at all.” (88)
As she pondered this, she reached an insightful conclusion. She comments, “…I came to understand, with compassion, how most people deal with their lives and spirituality: they simply don’t engage. They don’t attend to the interior life, to the questions and ideas that arise.” She makes one further observation. “They didn’t want to think about the spirituality that might turn their lives upside down.”
Her experience and comments make a great deal of sense to me. In fact, I shudder to think how often in my life I have been in the car where there was no conversation. And sometimes I am the one holding back. Too often, it has been fear that has stopped me from exploring my life and my ideas. Too often, I was afraid to engage because then I would have to stuff the urge to explore unfamiliar inner territory. It is possible to go through life without engaging.
It intrigues me what made the difference in Sophfonia’s car? How did that conversation begin? Why did the fearful ones in that car squelch the emerging discussion? I wonder who incited the flash fire of exploration? Furthermore, I wonder whether if I had been in the “talking car,” if I would have joined in or would I have hidden inside my own skin? Part of me cringes at the thought of me sitting mum in the back seat basically punting on the possibility of spiritual growth. My silence would mean that I acquiesce to the status quo of my life.
Is Sophfronia correct? Do most of us deal with our lives and our spirituality by refusing to engage. Perhaps that explains in part, at least, why so many of us spend too much time on social media. In prior days we wasted time and our lives watching television or some other distracting medium. It is possible to watch other people living their lives and participate from a safe enough distance that nothing is demanded of us. We can go through other folks’ experiences without any cost---or any joy. We can pretend it is real, while knowing there is nothing real at all.
I very much appreciate what I call Scott’s teaching line. She says too many of us don’t want to think about any spirituality that might turn our lives upside down. Even if we are miserable, at least we know the game. Sadly, too many prefer the known misery to a potential for something better---or maybe worse than we have it now. Of course, this can lead to some self-disgust, if not self-hate. Of course, that is sad---and sometimes tragic. It is as if we choose death while yet living.
Having said all this, what would it take for me to engage---and to participate? A key to engagement and participation comes from the work of Harvard Business School professor, Amy Edmundson, which she calls psychological safety. If people feel psychologically safe, they are much more likely to engage. A crucial factor in psychological safety is trust. If I can trust the environment and the context, then I am willing to risk. And risk is the name of the game, right?
Stating that reveals to me why I prefer control. If I can control something, then I don’t have to risk. But trust is different that control. Trust means there is some inherent risk.
Psychological safety reassures me that the risk is worth it. If I switch to faith language (which is easy for me since I think trust is the same as faith), then the question is whether I am really willing to trust God? To engage in my life and my spirituality means to engage the God who is at the bottom of it all.
That is the source of my fear. I can do a hundred “what ifs.” But what ifs are a head game. And trust or faith is a heart thing. Engagement means more than thinking about something. Engagement means jumping in---actually trusting and having faith. Indeed, my world might be turn upside down. But who is to say it is right side up now?
The great thing Sophfonia tells me in her story is she did this with companions---with friends. Friends help establish psychological safety. They help me and you get the necessary courage to trust. Friends help me be able to drop from my head into my heart and risk the engagement necessary for the life I really want to live.
I’ll let Scott have the last word. She tells us simply, “I still think about how much it matters who travels with me.”
Comments
Post a Comment