Afraid of Change?
(Note: An except from an interview by Deseret News, Salt Lake City, UT)
Deseret News: “Why are people afraid of change- and what would you say to those that are afraid?”
Matt: “I can only tell you why I’m afraid of change. It’s because I’ve failed, perhaps miserably, before, and I’d naturally like to avoid that outcome again. It’s embarrassing. I’m afraid of change because of what it might do to my existing relationships or lifestyle. I’m afraid of change because solving my nagging problems might mean I have no more excuses. I’d be afraid of the expectations of people close to me. If I resolved my problems, there would be nothing left to hide behind, and my problems give me great reasons why I can be irresponsible, or undependable, or unlovable. I’m afraid of change because it’s just plain hard. I’m afraid of change because I’m stuck and left without options and cannot imagine a way out. I’m afraid of change because my problem is just too big for solving. I’m afraid of change because I’m too old and set in my ways. I am what I am. Leave me alone. I’m afraid of change because I’m too young and don’t know what to do or who to turn to for help. I’m afraid of change because I’m middle age and have too much on my plate to think about myself. I’ve got a family, a job I hate, debt I was a fool to accept, and life staring at me in the mirror every darn morning and night. I’m just trying to get through this and survive. Just survive. I’m afraid of change because I’m comfortable in chaos, and I can’t imagine what life might be like without Shakespearian drama permeating my existence. Mostly, I’m afraid of change because of fear: I fear the unknown, or I fear failure, or I fear success.
“To anyone who struggles with these issues, myself included, I’d say that there is a better way, and it isn’t as hard to get there as we might think. It’ll probably take a friend who won’t judge you. I call it my jail list. If I wound up in jail for some extraordinary reason at some awful hour, a really inconvenient hour, and had one phone call, who would I call for help? Someone who would be there in an instant, without a bunch of questions or righteous indignation. You might need a person like that to help you see options you can’t see yourself given your perspective. But there’s help. It’s closer than we think, and it may arrive in a form unexpected. Be open to what crosses your path. Look for truth in whatever way it arrives on your doorstep. We’re all in the same boat. He or she who steps up, admits they need help, and commits to putting one foot in front of the other, is the person universally revered and admired. They are the sages and mystics of our time, and I don’t want to be in any heaven that doesn’t make room for them.”
Judgmental Pride?
Deseret News: “One of the themes that surfaces (to me) is how wrong our initial impressions and judgments are of people, e.g., Jason’s view of Aaron, and Jeff- but how later, by getting to know them, his attitude changes- and how during the accident, the perceived weakness of each team member actually work together for the greater good. Is judgmental pride one of society’s downfalls?”
Matt: “I think it’s safe to say that all people have at least one thing in common: we are all prejudiced. We all pre-judge. No one is exempt. We make instant assessments about the qualities of everyone we come in contact with. We look at body type and size, clothing, skin color, gender, shoes, hair length, hair color. Who are they with and what do their companions look like? Do they appear confident? Do they make eye contact? Are they slouching or ramrod straight? What is that accent? How did they enter the room? Are they sitting back in the chair with legs crossed, or are they sitting forward with arms on the table?
“Some of this is a conscious assessment, some unconscious. Either way, we make a judgment. We pre-judge. Sometimes we’re dead on. And sometimes we are so off it’s laughable.
“It’s impossible to be human and not do this. It’s the nature of the beast. But what we can realize is that our assessment may or may not be accurate. If we could at least understand and acknowledge that we are pre-judging, that would be a step in the right direction. Lets give this person a little breathing room, lets get to know them before we put them in a box, tape it up, and ship it out. I’m not sure the prejudice we carry around is judgmental pride, or simply the result of being human, having experiences, and judging everything going forward by those past experiences. Some of it may be an attitude, conscious or subconscious: I’m not willing to trust anyone who doesn’t look or act like me or what I’m comfortable with.
“There’s a lot here that’s fascinating. For example, I can get on an airplane, fly halfway around the world, and walk into a meeting with a bunch of people who may look like they just dropped in from another planet, and have no problem with accepting their legitimacy. They are dressed in something I’ve never seen, wearing sunglasses and no shoes, they speak in an accent that is darn hard to understand, they have piercings and hair length and mannerisms that are outside any galaxy I’ve ever been in. Yet, I’m fine. No problems. Apparently, this is how the program runs here in this part of the world. Put that same person in a conference room in your own city, and your judgment will change instantly. Now they are suspicious, wacky, nonconforming, perhaps even untrustworthy. Exact same person, mind you. Different context. Isn’t that interesting? What does they say about us?
“This much I am convinced of: we all miss gaining new friends who may have the ability to uniquely bless our lives. Why? Because we shut them out before we ever really know them, and that’s a shame.
The Apostle and the Atheist
The following is part of an author interview with Deseret News:
Deseret News: “In the book, truth is paramount, more than particular world dogmas. Do you feel that most factions (religious or otherwise) spend too much time arguing instead of working together?”
Matt: “If they are sincere, the apostle and the atheist are after the same thing. They want to know what the truth is. They are really at different points of the same line. They are both seekers. In order to come to such a definite conclusion about life and its purpose, both have had to contemplate, meditate, learn, read, study, work, sweat, consider, reconsider, deal with paradox and inconsistency, and make their way through a maze of wonderment and conflicting teachers. Both have had to look at the night sky and ponder the creation of such a remarkable work. Both have had to grapple with unbelievably difficult questions. This can be a long journey fraught with peril, harsh judgment, and loneliness.
“In the end, there is some understanding that occurs deep down. For the atheist, this understanding is unmistakable, the result of biochemical activity which reside in the most complex organic structure in the known universe, the human brain. For the spiritual believer, this understanding is the result of a confirmation that is equally unmistakable but nearly unexplainable. It’s as if something or someone reaches deep inside you and with a voice that is as penetrating as it is quiet, whispers that something is going on in the universe that reminds us of a life before birth and a life after death, and it takes your breath away.
“Now, I ask you: Don’t these two sincere people who have done such hard work have more in common than not? Certainly there is going to be some great conversation. But if they are sincere in their exploration, there is going to be respect, even admiration, for a fellow traveler. And if that is true for the apostle and the atheist, shouldn’t that be true for those of other religions or belief systems? But, there are those with preconceived agenda’s. There are those who don’t seem much interested in the truth, but instead are interested in protecting their intellectual or spiritual turf at the expense of everything else, even the truth. There are those who are unwilling to listen, those who’d like nothing more than to wipe out anyone who doesn’t see the world through a lens identical to the one they are wearing. Lets try not to be one of those folks. Regardless of belief system, we all came from a common ancestor.”
Nature and Metaphor:
I am drawn to nature and it’s metaphors.
Snow Rising is, primarily, a natural metaphor. It is a story about a climb up Mt. Hood in western Oregon, but the mountain and the climb and the surroundings in which the story is bedded serve as metaphors for our own search for destiny, meaning, and purpose. Once I opened my eyes to the natural environment around me, I began to see human stories everywhere.
And I realized that I’ve always loved these kinds of stories, maybe because there is no falsehood in the natural order of things, no positioning, no spin. Ultimately, nature is truth. Weather, geography and elevation produce a physical world of unimaginable diversity, all ordered as it should be like lines from a poem that turns naturally.
An interviewer recently asked me what my favorite ending to a book was. It was an easy choice for me.
Norman MacLean’s last seven paragraphs of A River Runs Through It:
“Then he asked, ‘After you have finished your true stories sometime, why don’t you make up a story and the people to go with it?
‘Only then will you understand what happened and why
‘It is those we live with and love and should know who elude us.’
‘Now nearly all those I loved and did not understand when I was young are dead, but I still reach out to them.
‘Of course, now I am too old to be much of a fisherman, and now of course I usually fish the big waters alone, although some friends think I shouldn’t. Like many fly fisherman in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise.
‘Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
‘I am haunted by waters.”
What Words Would Be Used To Describe You?
What Words Would Be Used To Describe You?
Descriptive words mean a lot, especially when we use them to characterize a person and the qualities he or she brings into the world. And some words carry more power than others.
Let me give you an example. There are words that seem profound at first glance, personal characteristics that serve as important descriptions of who we are: accomplished, ambitious, articulate, brilliant, committed, courageous, dedicated, dependable, devoted, fearless, gifted, hardworking, influential, inspiring, passionate, persuasive, qualified, responsible, successful, visionary. And there are many, many more.
Would you approve of a son or daughter marrying someone with those characteristics? Would you hire such people? Elect them? Form a partnership with them? Probably. Consider someone you really enjoy being around, someone you would call “good” in the finest sense of the word, with the above characteristics in your mind. My hunch is that your friend will have many, if not all, of these traits.
But there’s a problem. Now apply these characteristics to someone you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with. Hitler, for example. Yes, you’ll have to make some value judgments, but this is just an exercise. Look carefully. Was he accomplished? Well, yes. Ambitious? Certainly. Articulate, brilliant, devoted to his cause, gifted, influential, persuasive? He was all of these things. All of them. Yet it is these kinds of characteristics we go looking for when marrying, hiring, and electing.
Could it be that these traits, in and of themselves, don’t really give us any idea who we are partnering with? If the same set of characteristics—some call them “core characteristics”—can produce someone as good as your friend and someone as evil as Hitler, the need is clear for something else, something much more fundamental, that differentiates the two.
Curious about those fundamental characteristics that consistently define “goodness” in virtually any belief system? You’ll find them in Snow Rising. Visit SnowRising.com for more information.
You Can’t Pick Gelato off a Tree, And Other Thoughts About Happiness
I love gelato. Love it. There’s nothing quite like sitting on a patio at dusk during a warm summer evening with family and good friends, with chocolate-hazelnut, pistachio, or any number of flavors that please the eye and thrill the tongue. But I can’t pick gelato off a tree. Wish I could. Gelato is the result of the right ingredients, combined in the right order, at the right temperature,all at the command of an experienced gelato maker who understands the art and science behind it all. If any one of those pieces is missing, it ain’t gelato.
Happiness, or joy, is a lot like that. I get requests to come talk to various groups about “finding happiness.” I think what they’re really saying is, “Come talk to us about the ingredients, sequence, and action behind it all,” the art and science of happiness. We don’t often think of happiness in those terms; instead, we talk about it as if we could walk off our back patio and pluck it off a tree.There are ingredients, there is a sequence, and there are an art and a science to happiness. If any one of the “right” pieces is missing, it ain’t happiness. It’s something else, something much less satisfying.
The trick, the Rubik’s Cube that we’re all trying to solve, is to arrange the pieces of our lives in the right way for maximum happiness, a task confusing to nearly every individual who has ever tasted life and its bitterness. Money, fame, success, popularity, social acceptance, title, power, even self-medication—all are clever counterfeits that lead to a path paved with heartache. Once a person goes outside himself or herself to find happiness, misery is a sure result.
Your happiness is in you. It is God given.
You can’t pick gelato, or happiness, off a tree.
Looking for insights on finding the happiness you already carry inside you? The dialogue continues in Snow Rising. Visit snowrising.com for more information.
A Complex Moral Awareness
Things are not what they seem.
The spectrum of visible color is a small segment of the wave patterns that produce light. Radio waves, microwave, infrared, ultraviolet, x-rays and gamma rays are just as legitimate as red, green and blue. The limitation is not in light, but in our ability to see and to understand.
The physics of relativity describe the movement and relationship of “large” bodies, meaning particles generally larger than an atom and including the motion of planets and stars, all of which are driven by one of the most remarkable generalizations of the human mind; the law of gravity. These movements can be described in relation to things we know, – billiard balls on a table, or rubber balls reacting with the environment. However, quantum physics, which precisely define the movement of “small” bodies, or particles at the atomic scale, are indescribable in anything other than theoretical formations because nothing in our world is relative to them. These particles behave like nothing we know, so there is no appropriate metaphor to relate to. Yet, quantum theory is the most accurate and successful theory in physics. The limitation is not in the physics, but in our ability to see and to understand.
These are two examples of worlds that exist that we cannot see or understand without significant help, and make one wonder what else is out there. What grand discoveries are next? What is it I’m not seeing?
Snow Rising is the result of some years of teaching and practical application. I’ve seen the framework outlined in these pages change lives. It’s put people back together; marriages and families back together, and recovered fractured organizations. There is power in it because it teaches truth, something we all respond to regardless of race, gender, cultural distinctions, or philosophical category. They can provide peace and contentment for you too, maybe for the first time in a long time. Change can happen in your life as quickly as you’ll believe it. Take one small step. It is not too late for you.
Perhaps it starts with compassion, the alleviation of suffering. The most difficult suffering to alleviate is that which we’ve caused, because it requires a change in us. It requires that we think differently and act differently. It requires that we come face-to-face with our shortcomings. It demands that we become accountable, that we gracefully sacrifice our pride on the altar of humility, and our fear of not being enough or having enough on the altar of gratitude. Cultural currents have us pointed at the alleviation of our own suffering, which is not compassion at all, but selfishness, and has caused us to lose track of the keys to the miracle of happiness. This may be the first step: the acknowledgement and alleviation of the suffering we’ve caused. That is the door to a new way of thinking and being. With it, our eyes are opened, and we see new and powerful answers to problems that have plagued us for years.
With all our modern accumulation of knowledge, self-knowledge is most extraordinary. It may just be that the mystery of the stars will reveal themselves only upon self-discovery. Perhaps, as some have speculated, the human brain is a scale model of the universe. Whether this turns out to be as presumptuous as a universe revolving around a flat earth is yet to be determined. However, nature has a tendency to duplicate effective patterns, the human brain being the most remarkable organic structure in the known universe. Either way, our behavior; our desire for success, our ambitious desire for accomplishment, our desire to be popular, our desire to be understood, and our desire to relate with people and be loved, are driven by hidden motivations, things we cannot see.
Things such as love, fulfillment, enlightenment, contentment, peace, and awareness appear, at first glance, to be “soft” when compared to the hard science of physics. Yet the power that is present in those soft contemplations when the big picture is before us makes hard science pale in comparison. Childbirth, a slow walk with a small child, close personal relationships, and deeply emotional occasions such as the death of someone close, whisk us back to our beginnings and a transparent, if fleeting, awareness of why we’re here in the first place. People matter most. That much is clear.
Who among us wouldn’t give up significant worldly possession or trade hard knowledge for the absolute truth behind who we are, why we’re here, where we came from, and where we’re going? Then again, perhaps the answer is not in the answer, but in the journey to the answer. That journey begins with an awareness of how we think and how we act. What we believe the world to be is what is reflected back at us. If you believe the world is filled with hate, loneliness, desolation, aggression, and inhumanity, you’ll be right, and your experience will confirm your belief. If you believe the world, instead, is filled with love, compassion, humility, gratitude, forgiveness, a desire to do good, and a deep humanity, you too will be right, and your experience will confirm your belief. The observer defines the observation. The answers we get depend on the questions we ask.
Jason Snow has lived a life and made choices that he believed would bring happiness. Ironically, he and the rest of us act in ways that get us the opposite of what we want. The paradox of life is found in the fact that sacrifice brings happiness, which stands on its head our notion of happiness as a product of accumulation, inherently a selfish act. At the root of happiness are the axioms: compassion, humility, gratitude, and conscience … a complex moral awareness. Selfishness will never be peace. Nearly everyone desires a sense of security, but beyond that, more than enough is more than enough.
What can change us? In the millions of pages of self-help, is there anything that can change us? Only if we understand that change requires change, that there are some truths about change that we must first recognize. We must think differently. Act differently. Perhaps believe differently. Remember, the observer defines the observation. In all of this, the impact of compassion, humility, gratitude, and conscience, as we define them, produce an alchemy and energy in human behavior that is unimaginable, and form the foundation for moral authority, a powerful influence for good. Ultimately, we find influence by looking away from it, by focusing our thoughts and efforts on a framework that, at first glance, seems to lead away from the influence we so desire for ourselves and our children.
Where do we go from here? First, consider that there are deeply held human truths that apply to how we think and act that are nearly as universal as the physical laws that describe the earth’s rotation around the sun or oceanic tides. Peace, truth and happiness will never be found in what you possess. Most of us will not be defined or remembered by where we lived, where we traveled, what we wore, or the size of our bank account. You’ll be defined by what you gave, good or bad.
No one wakes up in the morning hoping they may suffer the whole day. The human endeavor, regardless of race, culture or class, is founded on a deep and profound desire for a state of mind described as well-being, happiness, joy, contentment, or peace. If these virtues will determine the quality of every instant of our lives, shouldn’t we know what they are?
It’s time we stepped forward to declare peace.
The answer is in you. It isn’t in anyone else.
Life is a paradox. Things are not what they seem.
Time Marches On
Val and I are in California celebrating a wedding anniversary this week. Lets just say we’ve been married over thirty years and have known each other much longer than that. Is that possible?
Just beyond our back deck is a golf course where group after group of youngsters, boys and girls, hit the ball impossible distances given their age. I learn that there’s a national junior golf tournament going on. Fun to watch.
This morning I was sitting outside reading and watching the golf, and memories flooded my mind. A young boy, not more than seven or eight years old, came to the tee, and with a swing any pro would give a years earnings to duplicate, hit the ball well beyond his father. I remember those days.
We called it “the smack-er-ooner.” I cut the shaft of a 3 wood about in half, installed a new grip, and gave the club to my very young son. I’d take him to the golf course with me. Six, seven years old. As I played, he’d hit the ball with the “smack-er-ooner,” chase it down, and hit it again, repeating the process until we reached the green. Times have changed. Most golf courses won’t let you do that anymore. A shame.
As years went by, golf became less about the game and more about time together; a place without cell phones, TV, computers, or distractions. Just me, Nick, a beautiful landscape, and as a wise man once observed, “a good walk spoiled.” Perhaps the best investment of time and money I’ve ever made.
Nick is twenty-seven now, married, with an MBA and a job in Portland. We don’t get to play golf together much anymore, limited now to family vacations and visits back and forth. He plays better than I do, and hits it miles past me.
In a few weeks we’ll be in the high desert of Bend, Oregon, on a beautiful golf course. But even now, I see him in my minds eye clearly: a young boy will step to the tee confidently and with the hope of a ball well-struck, six or seven years old, with the smack-er-ooner. Before him stretches a life of unknown trajectory and discovery, and one constant: a father and son who love each other, and always will. A memory undaunted, and regardless of the course life takes, one that will not fade with years.
Time marches on.
A World in a Grain of Sand
One moment, I’m in a place that’s chaotic, wet, and so noisy I can hardly hear myself think. The next, I’m clinging for dear life to a shaded vertical wall lined with rock strata millions of years old. Finally, I stand in quiet contemplation with a view in front of me that move’s anyone who’s ever witnessed it.
William Blake (1757-1827), an English artist, mystic, poet and philosopher, wrote in Auguries of Innocence (1803):
“To see a world in a grain of sand,
and heaven in a wildflower,
hold infinity in the palm of your hand
and eternity in an hour.”
Blake, I think, is expressing the belief that something small can symbolize something big, that if you consider a grain of sand in all its creative mysticism, the universe reveals itself. But a shift is required; a shift in perspective, in vantage point.
The Grand Canyon is wet, vertical, and the view from the rim is breathtaking. All three of those expressions describe the canyon. Each is entirely true but very different and entirely dependent on perspective, on vantage point.
What if we could learn to view diverse opinions as expressions from vantage points that are different than ours? Not better or worse, just different. What then? This isn’t to suggest that we’re required to believe one-plus-one is four just because someone else says it is. It does mean that we ask ourselves a humanizing question: what has occurred in the life of this individual to give them this vantage point? Instead of dismissing their point of view as off base or even ridiculous, we acknowledge them as a person of worth and through that realization, are able to let compassion work its miracles.
What if we could learn to see a world in a grain of sand?
First Steps
Babies take them. So do Apollo 11 astronauts. First steps are always exciting and a little tentative. A little unsure. This posting is the first step in what will be an ongoing series that I hope will spark your curiosity, engage you intellectually, emotionally and spiritually, and promote an open community that encourages an influence for good.
Snow Rising is a book dedicated to the principles of peacemaking and to the consideration that all of us attempt to resolve problems by focusing on consequences. Why doesn’t that work? Because we have no control over consequences. Our power to change and to overcome lies in our choices, not in the consequences that result from those choices.
For example, many relationships, marriages especially, suffer from a lack of trust. Some have said that trust is the central issue in human relationships. “I don’t trust my spouse,” “I don’t trust myself,” “she’s violated my trust,” he’s promised but not once has followed through.” We think that by focusing on the obvious issue at hand, trust, we can resolve or understand the problem. But what if trust is a consequence? What then?
Human activity, marvelous as it is, is a sequence that begins in choice and ends in consequence. To resolve problems of trust, we need to understand the genesis of the sequence. Where does trust come from? What choices do I really have that will repair a relationship suffering from distrust?
These are difficult, if not impossible, questions if we continue to focus on consequences. The same goes for problems that appear to be rooted in a lack of integrity, communication, self-esteem, and authority. Consequences all. Effects. Results.
I look forward to discovering with you our choices, the causes of the consequences we all struggle with. Once learned and understood, these principles are powerful and can put individuals and families back together, rebuild struggling communities, and repair fractured organizations.
One small, tentative first step. I look forward to many more. Together.