My Teacher
Many of you know of my interest in Naikan, a method of self-reflection. I touched on it in this blog back in 2008. In my opinion, it’s one of the most powerful methods there is for getting out of your head and looking at yourself in the way that others experience you. One of its key goals is to open our eyes to all of the ways we’re being cared for by the world around us. From the head of lettuce and the turkey and the wheat plant that gave their lives for your lunch to the people all around you who do things to make your life a little (or a lot) better. It’s a formalized gratitude practice and it takes a very simple approach to make you recognize the blessings in your life.
I was on a plane this week from New York to San Francisco, seated in coach. I had brought Gregg Krech’s book on Naikan with me to read, and was once again revisiting the techniques and the premises of the practice. I was reflecting back on my prior week, month and year, going through the exercises in my mind, writing down a few things here and there. Looking at the world in this way, even for a short time, really does have a meaningful impact on how you think about the people and things around you. I was feeling really connected and natural in the practice, like it had sunk into my bones over the years. To be honest, I felt like the practice had become a part of who I am, that I had come to a place where I routinely looked at the world in this way. That’s not to say that I thought I had eliminated selfishness, ego-centricity or thoughtlessness from my life – not at all – but I guess I felt like I was becoming a lot more mindful of how those traits impact my behavior, and that I had become a lot less susceptible to being spun out of control by them.
The universe laughs at hubris. And then, usually, it smacks you directly upside the head.
The flight attendants came down the aisle with the beverage cart, and I ordered my usual sparkling water. The guy next to me ordered the same. I got my cup full of sparkling water, and he got his. And then they put a whole can down on his tray. I sat back and took my hands off my tray, making room for my can, only to hear the click of the brake releasing and the cart continuing on down the aisle. I turned around in disbelief, assuming that the attendant would quickly notice that she had a half-empty can of sparkling water – MY sparkling water, mind you – and immediately correct this grievous error with a profuse apology and maybe a couple of thousand extra frequent flyer miles added to my account. Instead, she was chatting away with some couple in matching family reunion tee shirts a couple of rows back. I turned to the guy next to me, expecting at least and embarrassed smile and maybe – if he had any honor at all – an offer to pour half of his can into my glass when I needed a refill. But no. He was sitting there reading his stupid celebrity chef book, paying no mind whatsoever to the injustice that had occurred. In fact, was that a little smirk? The smug bastard was enjoying this. I hoped he’d spill it all over his crappy middle seat.
Oh, a couple of other important points. First, I had brought a water on board with me, so I wasn’t in the least bit thirsty. Second, I had gotten a cup of sparkling water on the flight out and had been just fine with it. Third, someone had taken that water from the source, canned it and distributed it. Some truck driver had delivered it. Someone else had brought it into a warehouse. Someone loaded it on my plane, and this flight attendant had pushed this unwieldy cart down a crowded aisle full of grouchy, impatient passengers so that I could have a cup of water on my flight. Now here I was, fuming, because the guy next to me had more of something I didn’t really want or need than I did.
Back to page 1 I guess.
