By: Iyo Embong

What will you do if?

• You’re too out of tune to be singing,
• Too out of beat to be dancing,
• Too tough to be a good woman,
• Too sensitive to be a good man,
• Too selfish to be a good husband,
• Too lazy to be a good employee,
• Too shy to be a good friend,
• Too caring to be rational,
• Too fat to be pretty,
• Too effeminate to be straight,
• Too introverted to be a good leader,
• Too smart to be kind,
• Too young to be taken seriously,
• Too old to make a difference,
• Or too far behind to even get in the race?

These are all false standards and false dichotomies, but they are so common and so ingrained that we sometimes believe in them without even realizing it. And this leads to a mountain of insecurities, because nobody measures up to these crazy standards (and nobody should). But even if we don’t believe in these things, it still matters what other people think, right? What will the neighbours think? Or how about our co-workers, our school mates, or the people at church? And so everyone works to hide their insecurities, and they look around at their peers for comparison, and maybe they feel bad because everyone else seems to have it easy, to have it all figured out. The truth is, nobody can see the truth anymore. They are all working to hide the truth, because the truth is that they are afraid of who or what they really are. So they all put on a show, and they pretend to be a good whatever. Or maybe they rebel, and make a point of being a bad whatever, but then they are still under the control of that false standard, and they are still not being themselves.

That is all so exhausting. I am nothing. It’s simple.

• If I were smart, I might be afraid of looking stupid.
• If I were successful, I might be afraid of failure.
• If I were a man, I might be afraid of being weak.
• If I were a Christian, I might be afraid of losing faith.
• If I were an atheist, I might be afraid of believing.
• If I were rational, I might be afraid of my emotions.
• If I were introverted, I might be afraid of meeting new people.
• If I were respectable, I might be afraid of looking foolish.
• If I were an expert, I might be afraid of being wrong.

But I am nothing, and so I am finally free to be myself. This isn’t license to stagnate. Change is inevitable. Change is part of who we are, but if we aren’t changing for the better, then we are just slowly decaying.

By returning to ZERO expectations, by accepting that we are nothing, it is easier to see the truth. Fear, jealousy, insecurity, unfairness, embarrassment – these feelings cloud our ability to see what is. The truth is often threatening, and once our defences are up, it’s difficult to be completely honest with anyone, even ourselves. But when we are nothing, when we have no image or identity or ego to protect, we can begin to see and accept things as they really are. That is the beginning of positive change, because we cannot change what we do not accept and do not understand. But with understanding, we can finally see the difference between fixing problems, and hiding them, the difference between genuine improvement, and faking it. We discover that many of our weaknesses are actually strengths once we learn how to use them, and that our greatest gifts are often buried beneath our greatest insecurities.

Gandhi wanted so deeply to help the world that he dedicated his life to siphoning every trace of self-interest out of his heart and mind, leaving them pure, radiantly healthy, and free to love. It took him nearly twenty yearsto gain such control of his thinking process, but with every day of demanding effort he discovered a little more of the deep resources that are within us all: unassuming leadership, eloquence, and an endless capacity for selfless service.

When he was in South Africa, Gandhi sometimes would walk fifty miles a day and sleep only a few hours a night. Even into his seventies he wrote hundreds of letters every week; when his right hand got tired, he learned towrite with his left. Once, while he was writing a letter, the lantern failed. Most of us would have quit and gone to bed, but Gandhi, aware of how much his reply meant to those who had written him, went outside and finished his correspondence by moonlight. That kind of drive gives a glimpse of the wellspring of vitality he tapped every day. If we were asked to live like this, we would say, “Impossible!” Gandhi would object, “Oh, no. It is possible, when your mind is flooded with love for all.”

Late in Gandhi’s life a Western journalist asked, “Mr. Gandhi, you’ve been working fifteen hours a day for fifty years. Don’t you ever feel like taking a few weeks off and going for a vacation?” Gandhi laughed and said, “Why? I am always on vacation.” Because he had no personal irons in the fire, no selfish concerns involved in his work, there was no conflict in his mind to drain his energy. He had just one overwhelming desire – an ambition that, like a bonfire, had consumed all his passion. This world-famous figure, who could have been prime minister of India and one of the wealthiest men in Asia, declared he had no interest in becoming rich or famous. He wanted something far greater, he said: to become zero, to place all his talents, resources, time, and energy in a trust for the world.

“Full effort is full victory,” said Gandhi. You need not be troubled if you have made mistakes, or if your ideal has slipped away. Just continue to give your best. If you fall, pick yourself up and march on. If you cannot run, walk. If you cannot walk, crawl. Nothing in life is more joyful or more thrilling. The effort alone brings a continuing wave of joy in which every personal problem, every suffering and humiliation, is forgotten.

By: Iyo Embong