There is a difference between being correct—following protocol—and actually being right.
Baba taught me to be okay even if no one talked to me or liked me. Yes, Baba taught me to be okay no matter what. How did he do that? In 1979, when Baba took the appointments secretary position away from me, people stopped talking to me. They believed I had committed some terrible sin and so did not want to be seen with me; they distanced themselves from me. So I got to see who had only talked to me because of my position and who still talked to me after that position was taken away. When there was just me, nobody got anything; nobody got any prestige or value from being with me. In this kind of situation we get to see people’s motives. When there is difficulty we see where people are. I remember learning how few true friends I had. Even if you are just asking for help and you think people will be there, you may be surprised. Baba wanted me to be human and free, and in order for that to occur I had to see clearly. He made me see what I was attached to and then let it go. Baba was no fool. When Baba said, “Love everyone, trust no one”, he was speaking from experience. He was a realist. He was a saint. He saw things the way they really were. He wasn’t going to pretend things were nice; he knew how things are.
It came to me recently that there is a big difference between being correct, as in following protocol, and actually being true, as in being human. If there is anything that Baba taught me, it is how to be human first. Don’t get me wrong, I love structure; I always loved being in a situation where I knew exactly what was expected and knew the protocol and could easily follow. Baba tortured me with that. He made me keep letting go so that I could see what was truly human as opposed to what looked appropriate and correct but was really rigid and cold. And tested I was. Most people found me tactless, and from a certain perspective I was. But they did not understand that Baba was directing everything I was doing. He used my willingness to be out there to place me in situations to teach me. Baba wanted us to be free; he taught in ways that were appropriate for each individual.
I remember a time at the DeVille in 1976 when the head of SYDA was to tell somebody something Baba had told him to say. It was not the nicest thing to say. And this man was a nice man, truly a nice man. So when he told this person he softened it. Of course, Baba found out. And Baba’s response was “Everyone’s going to like you but me”. This stung the man to the quick and he knew what he had done. I’m sure he never did that again to Baba. So is the lesson here just to follow the guru without thinking? No. This is about discernment. This is about being human; being appropriate. This is about having the guts to say what needs to be said even if it is uncomfortable.
Baba, for me, was always appropriate. He was neither tactless nor correct. He was right and human. And he was not rigid. To be human we must be fluid; we must be able to assess what is actually needed and then act appropriately. This is not about following a formula. This is not about self-interest. For many people, taking care of themselves means taking care of their small selves and this is their motivating force. And that is what ends up being correct and following protocol. We will say the same lines again and again, believing we are kind and good and following the appropriate path. Only later, if we are lucky, do we find out how inappropriate and tactless we actually were.
At Yale Divinity School the spouses of future priests started a support group. I went the first night. We were to go around and share our backgrounds. When it came to me I was honest, which brought an awkward silence. Afterwards my neighbor said, “You didn’t offend anyone”. I never thought that I was offensive, so why would she use that word? This was my history; there were no crimes or offenses of which I was aware. After that, the women were in fact distant and one little girl said to my then two year old that she was not allowed to play with him. Human? I think not—rather, correct and definitely safe. My then-husband had already told me I could not display pictures of Baba in the living room and not to tell anyone I came from a Jewish family. I had been tactless by telling simple truths about myself. Wow.
So here comes the reason for correctness and protocol: the avoidance of discomfort for all the players. When we are human and right, things can get messy. There can be awkwardness; we can feel wronged by the messenger. Or, as the messenger, we want people to like us so we cloak the honest answer and deceive them and ourselves. Protocol looks safe, but if it is not appropriate it causes injury and is tactless. Being human brings us to resolution. There is resolution with protocol and correctness when they are right, human and appropriate.
We have to discern when to speak up and when to be quiet. This decision needs to come from deep within the Heart. Depending on the situation, we may open our mouths, following protocol and believing we are being appropriate, and cause terrible injury, because keeping quiet would have been the human and appropriate action. In a movie from many years ago called Absence of Malice, a journalist reports something that is correct but inhuman, and it causes terrible injury. You can feel that your intention was good and clear, but then what do you do with the injured person in front of you? Do you say that it is theirs to deal with and you did nothing wrong? You followed the “correct” path. Was it correct? Were we human? Did we have empathy? Did we see from their side or do we not have to because we are “correct” at all times?
Where is seeing the other as ourselves? If we knew we were standing on the other side would we be so “correct”, or would we be human and appropriate, and express love in a way that Truth shone through and resolution was available for all the players?
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