I want the people I care about to be proud of me. To approve of me and the world to approve of them because of me. The fear of being nothing and the overwhelming sense of fulfillment that I imagine that I could have in being something, to be someone, to have that experience to win, to receive some honorary achievement on the world’s stage keeps me going so another day. What am I good at? What will I choose that might increase my odds of getting there in the shortest amount of time? What pipeline will I enter to part take in this race to become, to one day stand there and say “I did it” and finally get that validation for which I’ve so longed?
I see the authorities of our world, their faces posted and blazing on the covers of every major media outlet, and how great it would be if my friends and family could all see me there too. Me, my family we could all be a beacon, have center stage in the world and everyone would be so envious of us. What is pride?
I see a man standing on a stage, talking passionately about this and about that and I can feel the boredom of the people sitting there appearing to be engaged. I see the so-called intellectuals debating and giving their take on why the world is flat or why it’s round, topics that dull the senses and turn the mind into an arid desert but still gets the heart-pumping nonetheless. I see the president of the United States and all the bad press he’s getting but we know that any press is good press. It’s all about getting attention, audience engagement, stealing the show, doing anything and everything to get that energy. Pride, ambition where does it all lead and where does it end?
Pride exists in the calculating movements of the mind. Like the opening and closing of a valve on a water-pipe, the mind expends the action in only precise intervals, and like that of a caged dog it’s let out, the protective walls are switched on to protect the self. It’s all dyed in fear; it prevents the openness of love to be above the protecting, all of which are the indications of the self-centered activity of the mind that is indifferent to the callings and promptings of the heart; it’s robotic, static, and unwilling to move. I suppose this is why self-deprecating humor that which takes away the fear, the competition, the protection of the self is so efficient in its aim to disarm. So as they say friends are hard to come by.
We are told to stand tall and to stand proud at a young age. To never look down, to correct our posture and to never hunch, to make eye-contact, and to have a firm handshake. We are taught that these were signs of having character and confidence. One sees a person on a bench, takes in their gentle and inviting gaze, the sensitive way in which they greet by a twinkle in the eye and suddenly within that small space in time one becomes aware of the flowering of a dormant seed within. Then, someone comes along, perhaps a man of good posture who accidentally bumps into me, I apologise and he grunts and throws his nose to the air and the flower begins to wither and then dies.
It’s if the universe so often conspires and opposes love and maybe it’s true what they say about the two opposing forces that are operating in our lives. Because sometimes a person might bump into another and like the blowing of a dandelion you can see the marvelous, paralyzing explosion of entire galaxies being formed, a million flowers opening in bloom, a thousand moonlights and suns dawning in the sky.
I tell myself every day that I’m nothing, no one. And, I also remind myself that I am a part of the everything. There is within me, within us all, within each and every single soul that moment when the flower blooms and we experience the infinite, and the everything and everywhere sparkles within. The space between me who is nothing and there which is everything is love, and in that space is where pride does not exist. There is where pride cannot grasp, cling and attach, the poison to continue on.