May 31. 2020
Paula Bennet
Good morning. I wonder if there is a school of unlearning. You see, we all bring into adulthood—- identities, childhood lessons, and personal philosophies that we have acquired along the way. Some of these identities and lessons are good for us. A strong work ethic, compassion, empathy, and more. They help us feel happy and peaceful. Other lessons, unfortunately, contribute to our anxieties, make us skeptical, or perhaps just make life more difficult than it needs to be. When Thea first read this book to me, it struck me because many times peace is less about our own identities and personal philosophies and more about what we do with them. Peace can be about growing a garden or taking a nap.
Researcher Carol Dweck and her colleagues became interested in student attitudes about failure. She coined the term “growth mindset” and this idea has been generalized beyond just student achievement. Growth mindset, as opposed to “fixed mindset” is about the belief that effort makes us stronger. Growth mindset posits that change is possible. That changing even the simplest of our beliefs can have a profound impact on nearly every aspect of our lives.
I suspect that as we navigate adulthood, we are similar in that some of the lessons we carry with us from childhood enrich our lives and contribute to times of peace and well being.
For some, there are lessons, identities, and philosophies that can cause us to feel inadequate, sometimes like we are drowning and possibly aren’t measuring up to our own or others expectations.
I believe that the stories we tell about ourselves have to do with what we’ve learned about ourselves and the identities we’ve developed. I have shared meals with many of you and have heard your stories and it is from your stories that I grow into a better version of myself. I am able to look at myself through your stories. I think about what in your lives are serving you well. I identify with what brings you peace and I recognize those things I may need to let go of.
What’s so amazing about navigating adulthood is that we don’t have to hold on to lessons learned, identities defined, or philosophies created if they are not serving us well. We can change our narrative to what best feeds into our happiness and wholeness. Who are the people in our lives that we find ourselves thinking, “I want to be more like them in this way or that.”
Part of this talk is my story. I hope something inspires you… as many of your stories have and continue to inspire me.
In thinking about what I want my stories to reveal about me, I have borrowed from two books. The first book was given to CRE by Joni Grady. This book sat on my end table for a few months staring at me just begging to be read. Finally, one day early on during self-isolation, I picked it up
and in about 30 minutes read it cover to cover. Just after finishing, I ordered a personal copy and more copies to give away. The author Charlie Mackesy says that the book, “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse”, is a book for everyone, whether you are eighty or eight. After reading this book a couple of times, I agree.
In the story, the boy asks lots of questions. The answers he receives are touching life lessons. At some point the boy says, “I wonder if there is a school of unlearning.” I started this talk repeating that same sentiment because I realized while reading this book that I need to “remember” the productive lessons and forget or unlearn some of the counterproductive lessons I bring with me into adulthood.
Many of the answers the boy receives we may have heard somewhere before. However, if you are like me, life has sometimes gotten in the way and we’ve forgotten these wise words that make life more tolerable, happy, peaceful, and generally good.
Lessons from childhood– I learned some good ones. Work hard, take care of others, be kind, share, say I’m sorry when I hurt someone. And from my first reader, My Little Red Story Book published in 1961 — I learned to LOOK. See Jane…see spot… Look… notice… be aware.
Unfortunately, with parents who were alcoholics and attending eleven schools growing up, I learned many lessons that were not so good and I still struggle to overcome them. A few include wondering if I am “good enough”, or that “I belong”, or that I have “what it takes” to overcome adversity.
I continue working at unlearning these lessons which are counterproductive to my living a happier life. Books like this one provide important reminders that I need to give up some of the unproductive identities and personal philosophies and react to life in a more productive and peaceful manner.
I believe it is the mole who tells the boy, “One of the greatest freedoms is how we react to things”
Healthy reactions are a choice. As those of you who know me well have seen, I have a default setting which sometimes inhibits me from choosing reactions that are very productive and peaceful. These reactions we have are connected to the lessons we’ve learned getting to the place we are now. Some of them began earlier than we can even remember. The triggers are so ingrained they operate like a default setting and we go there without even thinking. Some are emotional memories and sometimes no amount of cognition helps to ignore the triggers. Nevertheless, we still try. We must refuse to allow ourselves to accept a “that is just how I am” attitude.
Building strong pathways in our brains related to happiness and equanimity, mental calmness, composure, and evenness of temper, especially in difficult situations requires intentionality. It requires choosing a growth mindset and reinforcing those pathways until ruts are deep and take us to a more positive place. One thing that has helped me, especially during this unprecedented time, is recognizing the acts of kindness I receive. This inspires me to show kindness to others and let others know I have thought of them and believe in them.
I am confident there were some important lessons missing from my childhood. Maybe yours too. Lessons about the world being safe and about expecting and accepting that life is difficult sometimes. I also think it is helpful to pause and think about things learned in childhood that don’t serve us well. For example, I learned to avoid conflict. As a result, I have given up and given in too many times.
What causes angst for us and how does it relate to patterns of thinking? What did we learn in childhood that we react to and then have regrets about? Do we continue to think or act in counterproductive ways because “we have just always been that way.”
For instance, I learned early on that if I wanted something done right…I might just as well do it myself. Counterproductive. In fact, as I worked on this talk, I could almost hear the words in my parent’s voices. “If I wanted it done right, I should have done it myself”
Not so good because this lesson makes it difficult sometimes to delegate. It leads to added stress and an illusion that there is a ‘right’ or ‘perfect’ way to do things. It makes me think that IF I can’t do something right, there must be something wrong with me. It concerns me that my attempts might not be “good enough” and that there really IS SUCH a thing as not being good enough. This thinking sometimes results in a fear of failure, and an inability to take risks.
Is it possible to teach an old dog new tricks? We know that having a growth mindset and practicing flexibility of thinking serves us best. At 59, perhaps I am that old dog now but I believe I am still teachable. I want to continue evolving. It’s important as we mature to examine the default
settings in our brain. What are some unproductive lessons we have learned? What are the ways of being we bring with us from childhood? Which ones serve us well? Are there ways of reacting that don’t serve us well but we justify them.
As I read some excerpts from the book, I ask that we pause to consider our perspectives, identities, and philosophies. How do we identify ourselves? What personal philosophies serve us well? What do we default to when under stress that doesn’t serve us well?
Another source of my inspiration comes from my favorite, Winnie the Pooh — a character of A. A. Milne.
So…. The title of this talk– Remembering and Forgetting: Lessons We Learned as a Child, is about choosing where to place our energy and focus. It is about imagining us as our best and yet imperfect selves. It was the mole who said, “One of the greatest freedoms is how we react to things.”
Many of us are reacting to COVID 19 and the racial unrest in ways we never imagined. Perhaps we are sad, disgusted, or in despair. Perhaps we are frustrated or frightened. Some of us may be confused or heartbroken. Regardless, examining our underlying attitudes and behaviors allows us to examine the underlying beliefs we have about ourselves and others.
When we look closely at our “default” reactions, we may want to seek a “growth mindset” and reboot some of our identities, reactions and “go to” responses so that we react in ways that are more productive and peaceful. Worrying might not work… taking action might.
By “Looking” and noticing which intuitive reactions cause us stress… we can intentionally change which pathways in our brains we strengthen. Is there a way to find hope? How do we engage with people who believe differently than us? We can most certainly, in the face of challenges, promote equanimity, calmness, contentedness and a more fulfilling existence. Change is possible and more probable when we are intentional.
Pooh is credited with saying..”To become a butterfly, you must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a Caterpillar” Again that is, To become a butterfly, you must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a Caterpillar” In what ways have we been able to emerge from our own chrysalises and face the world as a new and better version of ourselves? In what ways are we not ready to give up being a caterpillar?
We learn from the Horse in Mackesy’s book that “Everyone is a bit scared–but we are less scared together.”
At one point in Mackesy’s book, The boy asks, “What is the bravest thing you’ve ever said?” “Help,” said the horse. I wonder if there are others here today, that like me, learned as a child that asking for help is giving up. Actually it is quite the opposite… asking for help is refusing to give up.
Another lesson I am unlearning is that of Competition — different people view and handle differences differently. My mom used to say, ‘the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.” I didn’t understand what this meant but still somehow learned that if WHAT I had or did wasn’t as good as someone else, then I wasn’t as good. The mole in Mackesy’s story reminds us that “the biggest waste of time is comparing ourselves to others.”
As the boy learns valuable life lessons, the mole asks (and so do I), “Is your glass half empty or half full,”.
“I am just grateful to have a glass,” said the boy.
Pooh’s friend, Christopher Robin, reminds us that, “You’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” If we fail to believe these things about ourselves, then we might need to unlearn some of the negative messages we carry with us and look deep inside ourselves. Reach in and be a friend to ourselves. The first UU Principle involves recognizing The inherent worth and dignity of every person. That includes you. You are worth it to give up or unlearn some of the less than positive lessons you have identified. You are worth letting go of the
negative self talk, asking for help, seeking companionship, or whatever it is that brings you more happiness and makes you more content.
Thinking back to Thea’s story, the things that bring us peace might just be the things we do. The book, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, reminds us that when you go out into the world to do the things you do, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.
How about the lesson about relating to the world. What do we do when we experience difficult days? How do we handle things when others are having a hard time? I brought from childhood the notion that when life got hard, there must be “something wrong” with me. “The greatest illusion,” said the mole, “is that life should be perfect.”
Here is an excerpt from a Winnie the Pooh passage —
“Today was a Difficult Day,” said Pooh.
There was a pause.
“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Piglet.
“No,” said Pooh after a bit. “No, I don’t think I do.”
“That’s okay,” said Piglet, and he came and sat beside his friend. “What are you doing?” asked Pooh.
“Nothing, really,” said Piglet. “Only, I know what Difficult Days are like. I quite often don’t feel like talking about it on my Difficult Days either”.
“But goodness,” continued Piglet, “Difficult Days are so much easier when you know you’ve got someone there for you. And I’ll always be here for you, Pooh.”
And as Pooh sat there, working through in his head his Difficult Day, while the solid, reliable Piglet sat next to him quietly, swinging his little legs…he thought that his best friend had never been more right.” A.A. Milne
Some days, all you need is someone to sit beside you…
How do we handle disappointment, pain, sadness, anger, imperfections however they present themselves? Are there lessons, identities, perspectives we bring from childhood that are productive and helpful? Lessons that result in equanimity and peace? If so, by all means, keep them in your toolbox and default to them in times of stress.
Are there lessons that result in drama and angst? If so, the first step toward change is “seeing them”. Like in that first story book I learned to read… (See Paula See Paula run. See Paula hide. See Paula isolate.)
And how do we react to others when they are feeling out of sorts. Do we run, hide, and isolate ourselves because we “don’t know what to say? Do we bring lessons from childhood that we need to “mind our own business?”
I’d like to leave us with another excerpt from a Winnie the Pooh story. Which character do we relate to? How do we approach situations that are less than ideal?
It occurred to Pooh and Piglet that they hadn’t heard from Eeyore for several days, so they put on their hats and coats and trotted across the Hundred Acre Wood to Eeyore’s stick house. Inside the house was Eeyore. “Hello Eeyore,” said Pooh.
“Hello Pooh. Hello Piglet,” said Eeyore, in a Glum Sounding Voice.
“We just thought we’d check in on you,” said Piglet, “because we hadn’t heard from you, and so we wanted to know if you were okay.”
Eeyore was silent for a moment. “Am I okay?” he asked, eventually. “Well, I don’t know, to be honest. Are any of us really okay? That’s what I ask myself. All I can tell you, Pooh and Piglet, is that right now I feel really rather Sad, and Alone, and Not Much Fun To Be Around At All. Which is why I haven’t bothered you. Because you wouldn’t want to waste your time hanging out with someone who is Sad, and Alone, and Not Much Fun To Be Around At All, would you now.”
Pooh looked at Piglet, and Piglet looked at Pooh, and they both sat down, one on either side of Eeyore in his stick house.
Eeyore looked at them in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“We’re sitting here with you,” said Pooh, “because we are your friends. And true friends don’t care if someone is feeling Sad, or Alone, or Not Much Fun To Be Around At All. True friends are there for you anyway. And so here we are.”
“Oh,” said Eeyore. “Oh.” And the three of them sat there in silence, and while Pooh and Piglet said nothing at all; somehow, almost imperceptibly, Eeyore started to feel a very tiny little bit better. Because Pooh and Piglet were There. No more; no less.
What lessons serve you well? What lessons would you like to forget in order to be happier and more content?
Thank you.
Benediction —
May we be the change we wish to see in ourselves. May we be there for the change others wish to see in themselves. So go in peace and let it be.