I know, we've heard this many times over: from parents, teachers, employers, friends, self-improvement programs, in-laws. We are not the centre of the universe. I remember a friend of mine from many years ago who would confide to me what her former roommate, part of a gay male couple who treated her rather like an adopted daughter, used to tell her: "you are not the centre of the universe." In the nineties I was on the bus and a very cantankerous female passenger would not stop harassing and berating the driver, a middle aged and pleasant looking turbaned Sikh gentleman. The bus came to the end of its run and the poor beleaguered and exasperated driver approached me as I dismounted from the bus asking me for my contact information in case he wanted to employ me as a witness against the horrible woman. While still on the bus I did try to intervene but the lady (using the term very loosely, Gentle Reader), tried to give me a tongue lashing for not respecting that it was all about her. To which I replied, "My dear, it must be awfully hard work for you believing that you are the centre of the universe." She shrilly replied that of course she is the centre of the universe and that everyone is the centre of their own personal universe.
I guess there is a certain truthiness to her truism though I would rather think of it as a brown steaming aromatic mound of you-know-what. And yet there is a facet to her nonsense that does merit consideration. If you observe others on a street downtown or on a bus you will notice how utterly self-absorbed almost everyone is. The I phone and the personal music device are only natural extensions of our rampant narcissism.
We all live inside our own personal prison. I call it a prison because it prevents us from really connecting. You have already read of some of my rants about our society's unhealthy obsession with dogs, Gentle Reader, in the sense that it is our failure to connect with one another meaningfully that sends many of us after poor stupid beasts to give us unconditional love while worshipping us like two-legged gods. There is a nasty overweening human instinct that simply has to be adored. Not simply loved, accepted or respected but given the deference of royalty, a servile way of being treated that isn't even deserving of so-called royalty (so sorry Elizabeth!). This does not occur when we are in healthy, equal and perfectly horizontal relationships with one another as human beings.
Now and again I see something that gives me hope, some little sign of generosity or unselfishness: like the young man who tossed a toonie into a beggar's hat the other day, or the woman who beat me at picking up a little book that fell from the pocket of a very preoccupied young mother with her two young children. Or the various kind young people who offer me their seats on the bus even though I could probably outstand most of them.
I really think that most of us do want to do the right thing. Perhaps not quite ardently enough but that spark does exist in the human soul. We all have our limits of course and I believe that most of us would be a little more generous if we weren't often so afraid of being completely overwhelmed by other peoples' need. I even think that if those of us with extra rooms in our homes would offer shelter to the homeless that this would also do wonders for helping people find housing... Perhaps that is a tall order, but I think that we do need to use and expand our imaginations just a little bit and then, who knows? Maybe we can see some real healing happen in our communities.
This morning I did not have a very good start. I was tired and grumpy from insufficient sleep and rather feeling sorry for myself. It was really difficult finding a way to free myself from the prison of myself. Then, with my clients today, spending time with then, listening to them, appreciating their pain, finding ways to help us smile and even laugh together literally freed me from my prison. I still went through the day feeling tired and a bit grumpy but I thank the people I work with from freeing me from the prison which is at the centre of my own personal universe.
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