Confronting Power-Dialogue #1
By Garin Samuelsen
February 19, 2021
To have a dialogue about our hierarchical culture and the many different issues that stem from this structure of power is not easy. Part of the struggle is because there becomes an understanding that we are all a part of the collective cultural thinking apparatus that gives life to this deeply ingrained hierarchy. Unless we see this, change cannot and will not happen.
“You think because you understand ‘one’ you must also understand ‘two’, because one and one make two. But you must also understand ‘and’.”
We began by discussing dialogue, and then we shared the quote from above as well as a parable about perspective taking. Rumi’s quote is pointing at the fact that the whole is always greater than the parts. Something happens in the in between space when a group of people interact together. This is especially true in a dialogue. Something almost magical takes place. A communion, a bringing together of a shared meaning interacts in that space of ‘and’. From here, we can begin to get underneath what holds us back from seeing each other in wholeness. When we are not talking with each other but at each other, the ‘and’ disappears as it becomes one vs two instead, as conflict comes into play.
Rather than focusing on right and wrong or agreeing and disagreeing, we focused on listening, understanding, and looking underneath to directly see what is going on. Through this process, dialogue becomes a mirror and the participants, through exposing the nature of thought and its opinions and assumptions, have the opportunity to begin to let go of long held beliefs and attitudes.
A dialogue provides the avenue to begin talking about challenging topics and beliefs in a way that fosters compassion and understanding. In our usual discourse with others, we can easily fight for what we believe is right and fight against what we believe is wrong. In doing this, we create even more walls and build up more momentum for ignorance. This ignorance comes about as we continue to push down or run away from hard things rather than diving in and discovering what it is we are talking about. If we are to wake up, we need to learn how to share and listen thoughtfully, seriously, and compassionately. A dialogue provides this opportunity and gives the space in communion to see in new ways.
How does all of this relate to the parable of the 6 blind men and the elephant?
Long ago six old men lived in a village in India. Each was born blind. The other villagers loved the old men and kept them away from harm. Since the blind men could not see the world for themselves, they had to imagine many of its wonders. They listened carefully to the stories told by travelers to learn what they could about life outside the village.
The men were curious about many of the stories they heard, but they were most curious about elephants. They were told that elephants could trample forests, carry huge burdens, and frighten young and old with their loud trumpet calls. But they also knew that the Rajah's daughter rode an elephant when she traveled in her father's kingdom. Why would the Rajah let his daughter get near such a dangerous creature?
The old men argued day and night about elephants. "An elephant must be a powerful giant," claimed the first blind man. He had heard stories about elephants being used to clear forests and build roads.
"No, you must be wrong," argued the second blind man. "An elephant must be graceful and gentle if a princess is to ride on its back."
"You're wrong! I have heard that an elephant can pierce a man's heart with its terrible horn," said the third blind man.
"Please," said the fourth blind man. "You are all mistaken. An elephant is nothing more than a large sort of cow. You know how people exaggerate."
"I am sure that an elephant is something magical," said the fifth blind man. "That would explain why the Rajah's daughter can travel safely throughout the kingdom."
"I don't believe elephants exist at all," declared the sixth blind man. "I think we are the victims of a cruel joke."
Finally, the villagers grew tired of all the arguments, and they arranged for the curious men to visit the palace of the Rajah to learn the truth about elephants. A young boy from their village was selected to guide the blind men on their journey. The smallest man put his hand on the boy's shoulder. The second blind man put his hand on his friend's shoulder, and so on until all six men were ready to walk safely behind the boy who would lead them to the Rajah's magnificent palace.
When the blind men reached the palace, they were greeted by an old friend from their village who worked as a gardener on the palace grounds. Their friend led them to the courtyard. There stood an elephant. The blind men stepped forward to touch the creature that was the subject of so many arguments.
The first blind man reached out and touched the side of the huge animal. "An elephant is smooth and solid like a wall!" he declared. "It must be very powerful."
The second blind man put his hand on the elephant's limber trunk. "An elephant is like a giant snake," he announced.
The third blind man felt the elephant's pointed tusk. "I was right," he decided. "This creature is as sharp and deadly as a spear."
The fourth blind man touched one of the elephant's four legs. "What we have here," he said, "is an extremely large cow."
The fifth blind man felt the elephant's giant ear. "I believe an elephant is like a huge fan or maybe a magic carpet that can fly over mountains and treetops," he said.
The sixth blind man gave a tug on the elephant's coarse tail. "Why, this is nothing more than a piece of old rope. Dangerous, indeed," he scoffed.
The gardener led his friends to the shade of a tree. "Sit here and rest for the long journey home," he said. "I will bring you some water to drink."
While they waited, the six blind men talked about the elephant.
"An elephant is like a wall," said the first blind man. "Surely we can finally agree on that."
"A wall? An elephant is a giant snake!" answered the second blind man.
"It's a spear, I tell you," insisted the third blind man.
"I'm certain it's a giant cow," said the fourth blind man.
"Magic carpet. There's no doubt," said the fifth blind man.
"Don't you see?" pleaded the sixth blind man. "Someone used a rope to trick us."
Their argument continued and their shouts grew louder and louder.
"Wall!" "Snake!" "Spear!" "Cow!" "Carpet!" "Rope!"
"Stop shouting!" called a very angry voice.
It was the Rajah, awakened from his nap by the noisy argument.
"How can each of you be so certain you are right?" asked the ruler.
The six blind men considered the question. And then, knowing the Rajah to be a very wise man, they decided to say nothing at all.
"The elephant is a very large animal," said the Rajah kindly. "Each man touched only one part. Perhaps if you put the parts together, you will see the truth. Now, let me finish my nap in peace."
When their friend returned to the garden with the cool water, the six men rested quietly in the shade, thinking about the Rajah's advice.
"He is right," said the first blind man. "To learn the truth, we must put all the parts together. Let's discuss this on the journey home."
The first blind man put his hand on the shoulder of the young boy who would guide them home. The second blind man put a hand on his friend's shoulder, and so on until all six men were ready to travel together.
“We have two ears and one mouth, so we should listen more than we say.”
Does the blind ignorance of these men illustrates what happens when we become stuck in our own beliefs and thereby can’t listen? To listen, one must have an open mind. When we can begin to talk freely and listen openly, we may begin to uncover what lies beneath. This teaching not only gives wisdom around checking all beliefs, but also guides us into our on-going dialogue on confronting power.
Is power a manufactured ideology built from the construct of fear? If I was whole in the first place and saw myself as no better or worse than anyone else, where would power be? The other question that comes to mind is based on something Thoreau said which is, “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation.” Is this true, and if so, what does this have to do with the power structure of our culture and how we relate to one another?
What are your thoughts?
