Who’s in charge? My heart, my mind, my body? Me, my coteachers, my students? My digestion, my metabolism? My aspirations, my obligations? Who decides? To what extent have I been properly exercising good judgment vs. unworthily surrendering my authority vs. unproductively taking a stand? Where do I distinguish between flow-going, dish-ragging, and failing?
I’ve been thinking about symbiosis and its delicate balance:
- Respecting signals vs. pushing through the pain
- Avoiding probable disaster vs. risking unlikely triumph
- Saving steam for the return trip vs. betting all your chips on today
- Allowing companions wiggle room vs. setting and sticking to limits
- Ensuring the good of the group vs. tending to the needs of the few
- Stepping up vs. stepping back
- Listening vs. speaking
- Making the foreign familiar vs. making the familiar foreign…
A little bit of both! declares the sage. Of course, everything in moderation. But when you come down to individual choices, when do you swing thisa-way and when do you veer thatta-way? Does it matter little since it all comes even in the wash — I’ll pay/decide/like it/lump it this time, it’s your turn next time, or do you conscientiously re-calibrate with each endeavor — half for you and half for me?
I’ve been equally engaging both options — sometimes letting it ride, sometimes parsing it out. But rather than wise alternation, I wonder whether this is torpid free-riding. Whatever you say… whatever you say…
Who is the who who says? My heart, my mind, my body? Me, my coteachers, my students? My digestion, my metabolism? My aspirations, my obligations? As I turn over what I’ve done, what to do, and how to do it, I pingpong among these options. I want to be responsible.
My hands are getting dirty; but am I whole-heartedly dirtying my hands?