We are what we repeatedly do. –Aristotle
If you, gentle reader, have been following my blog these past 8 years you know that I love stories. And like you, I write and live into and out of my own life-story; I am the ‘author’ and the ‘book’ – an interesting paradox. Like you, I have written things into my life-story that helped me survive so that I could live another day. Here is a parable [i.e. a teaching story] that the Buddha told his disciples.
A man is on a journey. He comes to a vast stretch of water. On this side the shore is dangerous, but on the other side it is safe and without danger. No boat goes to the other shore which is safe and without danger, nor is there any bridge for crossing over. The man said to himself: “It would be good therefore if I would gather grass, wood, branches and leaves to make a raft, and with the help of that raft cross safely to the other side.”
Then that man gathers grass, wood, branches and leaves and makes a raft, and with the help of that raft crosses over safely to the other side, exerting himself with his hands and feet. Having crossed over and got to the other side, he thinks: “This raft was of great help to me. With its aid I have crossed safely over to this side. It would be good if I carry this raft on my head or on my back wherever I go.”
The Buddha then asked his disciples what this man should do with the raft. After some time, the Buddha then wondered if it would not be wise for the man to say: “The raft has been a great help to me. Now I can beach it on the shore or let it float away, so I can be on my way.” Buddha paused again. Then he smiled that Buddha smile and explained that his own teachings are to be used for crossing over and are not to be carried. While the lessons are practical and useful and may even seem beautiful, they are to be let go of when the lesson has been learned.
I have carried – and continue to carry – ‘stuff’ with me that at one time I needed in order to survive. In my life-story, I carry them over from paragraph to paragraph or chapter to chapter even though some of them are now hindrances if not harmful to my growth and development. It is difficult for me to let go of these – to celebrate them and to mourn their passing – and to move on. I am reminded of TimO’Brien’s powerful book, The Things They Carried.
What are the ‘rafts’ that I am carrying that no longer serve me? What are the ‘rafts’ that I am carrying that have morphed from helping me survive to now hindering my growth and development? What are the ‘rafts’ that I am carrying that have morphed from being life-supporting to life-depleting?
A journey is a person in itself, no two are alike. –John Steinbeck