For this post, I am not sharing a personal development lesson I’ve learned. Instead, I’m going to invite you to check out another aspect of my writing, one that is completely different than this blog.
In a recent post, I shared that a life-long dream came true when I got my first book deal for a spooky monster mystery series for young (and young at heart) readers called Monsterious. Now that I’m actually going to be published, I need an author website.
I am in no way a designer or a web-site builder. That said, I built my own author site and went live with it last week.
If you have a moment, it would mean the world to me if you’d visit my site mattmcmann.com and let me know what you think. You’ll find info about Monsterious, weird things I’ve done, my horrible first spooky story, and learn about my artistic family (daughter Kennedy McMann is an actor who plays Nancy Drew on the CW network show Nancy Drew, son Kilian McMann is a freelance illustrator / graphic designer, and wife Lisa McMann is New York Times and USA Today bestselling author).
If that all sounds horribly boring to you, feel free to ignore! Check back next week for another personal development post. Either way, thank you so much for taking the time to read this and for joining me on the journey to Becoming Yourself.
Seeing someone turn everyday objects into mind-bending illusions is fascinating.
That’s partly why I resonated with the following post. Reading that a widespread, deeply-ingrained illusion is behind the baffling level of hatred, division, and violence in our world made sense to me. It helped me understand both large-scale violence, like Russia’s oppression of Ukraine, and the small-scale conflicts I encounter in my own life.
The following perspective on the root of violence is from author and teacher Richard Rohr. I hope his words give you a better understanding of the state of our world and help you do your small part to make it a more peaceful one. If you do, you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.
In a conference with Trappist monk Thomas Keating, Father Richard Rohr considered how contemplation is an antidote to violence:
The root of violence is the illusion of separation—from God, from Being itself, and from being one with everyone and everything. When we don’t know we are connected, we will invariably resort to some form of violence to get the dignity and power we lack. Contemplation of the gospel message gradually trains us not to make so much of differences, but to return to who we are—our True Selves in God—which is always beyond any nationality, religion, skin color, gender, sexuality, or any other possible labels. In fact, we finally can see that those are always and only commercial labels, covering the rich product underneath.
When we can become little enough, naked enough, and honest enough, then we will ironically find that we are more than enough. At this place of poverty and freedom, we have nothing to prove and nothing to protect. Here we can connect with everything and everyone. Everything belongs. This cuts violence at its very roots, before there is even a basis for fear or greed—the things that usually cause us to be angry, suspicious, and violent.
To be clear, it is inconceivable that a true Christian would be racist, anti-Semitic, xenophobic, homophobic, or bigoted toward any group or individual, especially toward the poor and vulnerable, which seems to be an acceptable American prejudice. To end the cycle of violence, our actions must flow from our authentic identity as Love.
One of the reasons I founded the Center for Action and Contemplation was to give activists some grounding in spirituality so they could continue working for social change, but from a stance much different than vengeance, ideology, or willpower pressing against willpower. Most activists I knew loved Gandhi’s and Martin Luther King, Jr.’s teachings on nonviolence. But it became clear to me that many of them had only an intellectual appreciation rather than a participation in the much deeper mystery. The ego was still in charge, and I often saw people creating victims of others who were not like them. It was still a power game, not the science of love that Jesus taught us.
When we begin by connecting with our inner experience of communion rather than separation, our actions can become pure, clear, and firm. This kind of action, rooted in one’s True Self, comes from a deeper knowing of what is real, good, true, and beautiful, beyond labels and dualistic judgments of right or wrong. From this place, our energy is positive and has the most potential to create change for the good. This stance is precisely what we mean by “being in prayer.” We must pray “unceasingly” to maintain this posture. It is a lifelong process.
We wait in prayer, but we don’t wait for absolutely perfect motivation or we will never act. Radical union with God and neighbor should be our starting place, not private perfection.
From Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations from the Center for Action and Contemplation, May 1, 2022. Adapted from Richard Rohr and Thomas Keating, Healing Our Violence through the Journey of Centering Prayer (Cincinnati, OH: Saint Anthony Messenger Press, 2002), CD.
I was sitting with a friend in an Ethiopian restaurant. The tall, rough-looking man who had spoken was standing at the next table and looking past us toward the entrance. A moment later, another man approached, shook the tall man’s hand, then introduced himself to the tall man and his friend. The newcomer thanked them for the invitation, then the three of them sat and began chatting. They placed their order and soon a single large platter was delivered to their table. In true Ethiopian style, they shared their food from a common serving plate.
Later in the meal, the man who had come alone left for the restroom. While he was gone, the tall man say to his companion, “Thanks for being okay with me inviting that guy to join us.” His friend replied, “Yeah man, I could do this all day.”
I was fascinated. Invite a stranger to sit with you in a restaurant? Share a common plate with them? The idea had never occurred to me. I found myself envying the courage of the man who made the offer and the one who accepted it.
In my last post, I wrote that living with a “let them come” attitude is difficult for me, as my somewhat timid nature makes diving into new experiences intimidating. What I saw in that restaurant was a beautiful example of the type of “seize the moment” living I’m trying to learn.
My wife and I unintentionally had a similar experience years ago in Italy. We wandered into a restaurant with a small seating area. The hostess promptly led us to a table with four chairs, two of which were already occupied. We hesitated, thinking there was a mistake, but the hostess just smiled and gestured toward the two empty seats. After an awkward moment, the seated couple quickly invited us to join them.
We exchanged greetings and learned they were also Americans on vacation. We swapped travel stories and were soon laughing together. What started off as an uncomfortable surprise turned into one of the most pleasant and memorable evenings of our trip.
As I think back on those experiences, I wonder why I still hesitate to be so bold. So free. To let those moments come. Living with this level of intentionally comes with risks to be sure, but it’s also a path to growth and unexpected joy. That’s the lesson of the shared table.
So how about you? Are you willing to step outside your comfort zone? To try something new? Keep your eyes open. Seize moments, big and small.Say yes. If you do, you’ll feel a revitalizing wind blow through your life, and you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.
