Plays Well With Others

Annual Teachers Day
BHU, Lanka, Varanasi

Since I can remember, my aunts and uncles have been arguing with each other and with my mother, vowing never to speak again with each other, over important issues such as colors of cars, and lending money, and who took who to America. The tiffs have lasted for decades among the siblings, but never with my mother.  They will argue and insult her. She will forgive them. They will come running back, calling her as though nothing had happened and forgetting their shame of bad behaviors. 

My mother is my biggest Teacher. She forgives them for all their petty hang-ups, biases, lies and blasphemic vows, and she embraces them again and again.  
Because they are loved by her, they heal. 

She has hurt me. I have hurt her. Words are powerful weapons. Yet, after some hours, days, or weeks, she will call. Again. She will ask how I am doing and start conversation on great and interesting topic, to engage me.

She will start anew. Again. Again. Again.

How does she do it? She is amazing. Because she has the glorious inner power to maintain who she is and her connection to the Source, she can let go of others' ill actions.   Earlier, I would hold a grudge, known as abhimaan in Bengali.   She would teach me how precious our few moments are in life, how lack of forgiveness prevents compassion and the healing of the heart.  She would remind me how certain relationships should not be lost to ideology. After all, we are having a human experience, which is all about relationships: with our inner selves, with our environment, with others, with our emotions.  

Would you rather be right or be connected with others?

Forgiveness is not an easy lesson. It is one that tears at the heart, and forces tears from the eyes.  It struggles with the ego, and dismisses grandeur and self-importance.  Forgiveness is one of the most powerful tools in this earthly realm of relationships.

At BHU, there are many people who are still holding grudges after decades of disagreement.  Someone said something at a conference in 1982, so he will never be forgiven. Someone used department funds for his own lab/office/project. Someone wrote a letter and skipped over the chain of authority. Someone neglected his teacher in a lecture presentation.  People sit a few feet from each other for their entire career, with a thick wall between them, dismissing another human being and depriving themselves of all the opportunities for collaboration, self-learning, and true wisdom.  

It is not only at BHU: it happens in all settings where emotional maturity and self-development are not demanded as part of the professional qualifications and workplace conduct.

The criteria for serving on many Boards of Directors of non-profit organizations now includes, “plays well with others.”  I had never seen this qualification in my academic projects, hospital  committees, or grant review teams.  Yet, it is the glue that makes the mission of the organization work.  Those Boards invest time and energy to develop communication skills, emotional maturity (EQ), and leadership in its members, as a way of ensuring success of the common mission of the group.  

Demanding emotional maturity is something we must learn. We must first invest in maturing that young child inside of us, keeping her childlike but not childish, curious and fresh, but less fearful and selfish.   Rather than quietly respecting an elder’s preference  to insult another teacher, to avoid a departmental event in order to avoid colleagues, or to write a mean letter, we must subtly and respectfully intervene on this tamasic energy.  We must encourage our elders to forgive themselves, to forgive others, and to move forward together.  For the sake of harmony. For the sake of being a true teacher. For the sake of  Ayur-veda, which after all means, knowledge of life.