Bonds That Make Us Free Session 4: First, There is a Mountain

A change of heart seems problematic because we are almost continuously focused on solving what appears to be a never-ending stream of problems.

Today, we begin our group study of Chapters 7 and 8 of Bonds That Make Us Free, bringing us to the halfway point.

I got verklempt while reading Chapter 8. Did you? Warner's tales of humanity are hard not to get choked up by. You might wonder how do we go from being impacted to a fundamental change of heart.

In Chapter 8, Warner begins to show the way. At the end of 8, Warner shares his imperative: “Treat me as a person separate from yourself, but just as real—with hopes and needs of my own.”

When we studied Man’s Search for Meaning, Frankl shared his imperative: "Live as if you were living already for the second time and as if you had acted the first time as wrongly as you are about to act now!"

A change of heart seems problematic because we are almost continuously focused on solving what appears to be a never-ending stream of problems impinging on us. When our attention isn’t on our own issues, the world is ready to step in to give us something else to worry about.

Remember, Warner is asking us to consider that our perspective is distorted by the lens we see through. When we act from our distorted perspective, our actions provoke reactions in others, further provoking us. Is there any way out?

When Rogers and Hammerstein whimsically asked, “How do you solve a problem like Maria?” they knew they were asking the equivalent of “How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?”

Yet, endlessly, we ask “Maria” questions. Our questions have universal themes: How do I stop…? What should I do about…? How can I deal with…? These questions are about controlling others to get the desired experience.

From our sessions on Meditations, have we forgotten Marcus's many warnings about the futility of trying to control?

Insightfully, Warner describes our motive for trying to control others: “We do not really regard other people as objects when we are in that mode of being. Instead, we regard them as subjects, able to act on their own and be impressed, intimidated, or otherwise manipulated by our self-displays.”

In control mode, the melodies playing in our heads are not beautiful like those of Rogers and Hammerstein; our notes are raucous and shrill. Our thinking mesmerizes us because it seems so much is on the line. We seek to escape our mental noise. No wonder we feel hopeless.

We get out of control mode by shifting our orientation away from our self-concept, which is full of self-deception.

You might think: In The Sound of Music, Maria was a wonderful person. In the real world, my Maria is an awful person. I have a genuine problem. For now, can you suspend such thoughts to allow your own insights to surface?

We are being asked to look at times we persist in trying to solve unsolvable, never-ending problems. Questioning our motives, we might discover we are locked into defending our self-concept or proving we are right.

To surface better solutions to problems, Warner urges us to ask a better question than unanswerable ones such  How do I solve a problem like Maria?  

Once we understand the nature of the questions we constantly ask, we understand why we are continually exhausted. The Zen-inspired refrain in “There is a Mountain,” a 1967 folk song by Donovan, pointed to a way out—a way that allows for full engagement in life while pivoting away from the constant struggle.

Before we consider Donovan, let’s get to Warner’s question, which helps to shift our gaze.