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.
It stirred a longing, a wistful feeling, a thinly veiled desire. It rang true. But what does it mean?
One of the strengths of this quote is that it’s open to interpretation. Different people can find different meanings. For me, I realized it outlines a peaceful life, free from the fear of what may come, of what I’ll experience, and of what I might lose. I long for a life like that, to know that kind of relief and freedom on a daily basis.
So how can I become a peaceful, mature, content person who lets things come, be and go? How can I live with open hands?
I need to embrace new ideas, new people, and new experiences. I must let them come, even when they challenge my comfort zone and my established thinking. And once they are there, I must let them be, appreciating and enjoying them for who and what they are without feeling the need to change them. I need to be open to what they have to teach. At the same time, I must be willing to let them go when they have run their course, served their purpose, finished their season (you can read my post on when to let go of a relationship here).
Most of us naturally struggle with some of these traits while gravitating toward others. As a routine-loving person with a slightly timid nature, I struggle to let them come. Diving into new experiences is scary for me. I’d also put let them go in the growth edge column. I tend to take too long to realize a once-cherished routine, activity or relationship has run its course. On the plus side, I’m usually comfortable with let them be.
Which of these three ways of living comes easiest to you? Which is your biggest struggle? What are you resisting allowing to come into your life? What’s already in your life that you feel the unnecessary need to “fix”? What are you struggling to let go of? Breath deep. Be honest. Open your metaphorical hands to people, ideas and experiences. Let them come. Let them be. Let them go. If you do, you’ll find greater peace and contentment, and you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.
