Daring Monday: Take the Dalai Lama’s Advice

This weekend I had the distinct honour of going to see the Dalai Lama speak live in New York city. My husband’s Kung Fu teacher and his wife were going out and staying with friends and they invited us to join them (in the end there were eight of us going). Wakizashi really wanted to go and told me we’d work the whole “how to afford it” thing out when the time came and had me order the tickets (turns out, how to afford it worked itself out, but that’s a whole other story).

So, on Friday we packed ourselves up, met with the others and proceeded on the, what I believe is normally an eight hour drive if you have normal drivers, drive to New York city. We spent the weekend just outside of the city and drove in for the day on Sunday. We walked Broadway, saw Times Square, ate at the Jeckyl and Hyde club, wandered in Central Park, and, oh yeah, spent an hour and a half listening to the Dalai Lama talk about finding happiness in life, offering respect to those around you, and living life with compassion.

Near the end of his talk the Dalai Lama told us that what the world needed now was openness, honesty, and transparency (on a political and individual level). My husband was reminding me of this later that night, and who am I to argue with the life advice of one of the most popular religious leaders in the world? (Which, by the way, is a reputation he well deserves. Throughout the entire talk he was relaxed, casual, and cracking jokes – it gave me all kinds of respect for him.)

Today I’ve been thinking about this. What does it mean for me to be Open, Honest, and Transparent?

Confession: I have issues with having too many people around. I love people, I will, in fact, make friends with anyone, anywhere (Starbucks is a perfectly acceptable social outlet). In one on one, or small group, environments I excel with people, but put in an environment where I either have a) no sense of familiarity or b) no safety net or c) way too many people I don’t know then I start to have issues.

My most primary issue has to do with my empathic nature; I tend to act like an emotional sponge. Stick me in a highly charged room and I easily suck up whatever charge and energy happen to be zipping around. Given the right conditions I can easily manage it, or transform it (if it needs that), but if it’s too many people, the charge is too large, or I’m just not prepared for it… let’s just say: Fan+Crap = Mess.

I have yet to work out what my issue with people I don’t know is, but for whatever reason without some kind of anchor to cling to, too many unknown people in one spot make me feel like I’m drifting out at sea and about to be drowned. I panic, fold in on myself, and isolate. Now, I know ways to help me cope with this, but they aren’t always feasible. Sometimes you just have to know your limits and do the best you can.

Right, so did I mention that I went to New York for a weekend with 6 people I hardly (or don’t) know to stay in the house of two people I don’t know so that I could spend one day in downtown New York City! See the above note about the Fan and the Crap.

In the interest of being open, honest, and transparent, I have to tell you: I don’t have all my crap together. I apologize if this offends you, the best I can tell you is that I’m working on it. (But don’t be fooled, no body has it all together – even the Dalai Lama – though he’s closer to it than me for sure.) I managed all the new people fine. I expected them, I knew who was going and where we were staying. I packed books and work and coached myself about what to do if I started feeling the overwhelmed drowning feeling. When I needed to I went off on my own and read or worked. It was all good.

It was New York I wasn’t prepared for. I should have been. I should have known better. I should have thought about it; I mean, it’s freaking New York city. Anyway, I didn’t do any of those shoulds, and by the time I realized my mistake it was too late. I was there and feeling so full of anger and frustration I thought I’d burst. Needless to say, I was less than the ideal companion.

Ugh… We got home and I had a good cry (see how well I’m doing at this whole “open and transparent” thing already) and eventually felt better. Except for the thing about being mortally embarrassed for my behaviour. I mean, my husband knew that wasn’t really me walking and talking, but no one else did. That’s when Wakizashi reiterated the Dalai Lama’s advice: just be open.

It’s hard to be open; it’s hard to risk being looked at cock-eyed, like I might be a freak or something. I’m relatively open with all of you here, but that’s safe. I can’t see how you are looking at me; there’s distance and anonymity between us, despite the intimacy that social networking provides. Plus, you all tell me how much my transparency helps you; I’ve never had anyone tell me that in real life.

Not to mention, if transparency and openness are needed in real life, there’s a good chance that an apology is also appropriate. I don’t know about you, but I never find humbling myself to apologize to be an easy thing. Which makes the whole idea of living with openness and transparency a little less than warm and fuzzy feeling in action.

This week’s daring action happened quietly and simply over cooking waffles. I shared all of the above, and even asked for any advice if there was any to be had. It was no big deal. No strange looks out of the corner of their eyes, no issues at all. Just matter of fact thoughts and advice, and an offer of further help if I need it.

The interesting thing is that I feel better. I feel much better. It’s surprising how refreshing sharing can be; maybe next time I’m in that kind of situation I should preface the whole trip with that kind of open revelation (better to go in knowing what might happen). I don’t just feel better because I humbled myself and admitted what was going on, I feel better because I feel like I can see the situation at hand more clearly. Because instead of writing off the issue as something that happens to me on occasion I now find myself examining it, considering what can be done about it, thinking about better ways to manage it. Suddenly, I’m facing my own demon and seeing it’s more like a gremlin, or a garden gnome. Who’d have thought that this transparency thing would work both ways?

I’ve been working on removing my masks, layer by layer, both here on the blog and in my real life relationships and this week my dare is to continue being open, being transparent, being authentic. Not merely for the sake of being myself, but also for the sake of compassion and of relationship, in a world changing kind of way. In other words, I’ve decided to take the Dalai Lama’s advice and see where it takes me this week. Care to come along for the ride?

Over to You:
What does it mean for YOU to be Open, Honest, and Transparent? Where can the seeds of compassion be planted in your life through a simple act of openness and transparency (and possibly humility)? Go plant them.