THE VITAL CENTER

In his essay, "What Makes A Life Significant," William James begins with a wonderful example of differing perspectives.  Jack falls madly in love with Jill and she becomes extraordinary to him. He grasps her "essence," sees and understands all her thoughts and feelings, marvels endlessly at the marvel she is. But we can't imagine what he sees in her; to our minds, she's dull, ordinary, hardly worth thinking about. Yet Jill, knowing how Jack feels about her, blossoms not only in his eyes but in her own. She responds by seeing how extraordinary Jack is. They take each other completely.
     Who is right here?  Is Jack a "maniac" filled with delusion that he sees Jill in that way?  Or is it we "dull clods" who are missing the true essence of both of them?  In fact, there is no right or wrong.  What matters is what happens to Jack and Jill as they perceive all the little joys and disappointments, the thoughts and feelings each of them has - everything that is a hallmark of each other's humanity. Those intense, reciprocal perceptions add up to the significance they feel in themselves and in each other.
     The rest of the essay is filled with examples of how easy it is to miss the vital center, the deep and complex humanity at the heart of us all.  I often think of this as I move through the day - passing so many people without registering anything about them, or murmuring "excuse me," or "thank you" to faceless shadows passing by. Even the way I sometimes listen with half an ear to a good friend while my attention roams.  All the ways I don't pay attention.  
     By missing the vital center in other people, I keep my own center buried in my consciousness.  I go along skimming the surface of all the possibilities that exist in the world. But if I pay attention, sympathy, empathy, projecting imagination into the heart of another - they make me feel connected, in touch with a deeper source of energy. They bring me alive.  Then anything can happen and the new, the creative, the expansiveness of the world can come in.  
    The cliche holds: to give is to receive.
     

PEELING THE EGG

Every morning, I make myself two hard boiled eggs. When I peel the shell, I see a thin membrane and if I catch that membrane the shell peels off easily.  If I don't catch it, the egg winds up with gouges and they're in the white which I particularly like.
     There are some people who seem to always catch the membrane.  Their lives, at least from the outside, look smooth.  They have success, money, a solid, long term relationship, children; they look like they've done everything right and been very lucky.
     There are other people and I'm one of the one.  Sometimes I catch the membrane and things go very right; sometimes I make a mess of things and things go very wrong. But, despite appearances, I don't think anyone gets out of this life without some gouges and bruises, without some suffering, loss and regrets. It's the way of the world, part of the human condition.
     All I can do is be careful and pay attention.  I can let the eggs cool enough for the membrane to contract. I can crack the shell at the bottom, where there's an air pocket, and with just enough force to avoid the shell itself digging into the eggs. Then I can take care when I begin peeling so that I don't use too much pressure. If I do all that, the shell comes off easily and I get to enjoy the egg.
     Catching the membrane isn't rocket science.  It just takes reminding myself to pay attention, focus and have patience.