
As Alice moves along towards the third square in the chess board of Looking Glass, she suddenly finds herself inside a train carriage that is stuffed full of all sorts of talking animals and other creatures. They all speak a load of nonsense, and none of them have anything useful to say. During the chaos, Alice thinks to herself, “Then there’s no use in speaking.” But even this doesn’t keep the silly banter from rolling along unhindered.
They all seem caught up in wanting to fix Alice’s dilemma of not having a ticket, though Alice herself seems perfectly at ease with her situation, and the Guard has long gone. The crowd continues with their suggestions: “ . . . ought to know which way she’s going, even if she doesn’t know her own name!” “She ought to know her way to the ticket office, even if she doesn’t know her alphabet!” “She’ll have to go back from here as luggage!” And so the unsolicited suggestions go, without any insight or consideration of whether Alice needs any help at all. It is all rather maddening and such a waste of time.
This circumstance reminds me of a story a wise woman once shared with me. It goes something like this: “A kind and gentle man was walking one day and came across a butterfly struggling to free itself from its cocoon it had been transforming within. The man watched in fascination for a while, but soon grew concerned. It seemed a very long time that the butterfly fought to free itself. Finally, out of deep empathy, the man took out a pocket knife and cut open the cocoon to help out the tiny insect. The butterfly quickly made its way out of the hard shell, but something was wrong with its wings. They were limp and wrinkled. The man soon realized, to his personal horror, that his act of heroism had actually caused the eminent death of this beautiful life. It is in the struggle to free itself that the butterfly strengthens and develops its wings so it can fly. In doing for the butterfly what it needed to do for itself, the man had alleviated his own discomfort and caused the death of what he loved.
Seeing the struggle of others can be hard on us because we empathize with human suffering. Sometimes our acts of Good-Samaritanism make the world a better place, but when we act without insight and without permission, we can end up causing more harm than good.
It is wisdom to take a moment to think before taking the challenges of someone else into our own hands. It is the challenges in life that help us all to learn and grow, and without them, we do not develop important skills and wisdom we need to advance to the next level.
Another wise person once shared a rephrase of an old saying: When you are in an urgent situation, “Don’t just do something, stand there.” It’s good to make sure that the help we offer is actually helpful. Again, asking permission, taking a moment to get a sense of what is actually going on, and recognizing (from wisdom, and from our place of truth) whether we are being called upon to assist or to witness.
The Creatures in the Train Carriage have rolled into your station to ask you to look at whether what you are doing is really helpful, or whether it is a way of alleviating your personal response to what you see around you. The universe works in magical ways, and it’s good to have faith that the pieces will fall into place. Sometimes the right thing to do in an apparent emergency is nothing at all.
Meditation #1: Take a moment to relax and breathe deeply. Close your eyes and allow yourself to call in the question at hand. As you see the image become clearer, allow yourself to be outside looking in. Allow the players involved to move about without your interference. If it helps, call in angels, guardians, any sort of protector or helper and ask them to assist the situation and the people in a way that serves the highest good. Continuing to stay outside of the scenario, allow whatever is out of balance or out of place to right itself without your help. It may help to see this from an abstract point of view. You could see the situation as if it were tiny pieces shaken up inside of a snow globe. As you watch from the outside, notice how they gently drift into position, and the new image that comes together has harmony and equilibrium. Ask yourself, once this image has come together seamlessly, what it is you felt you needed to do to make things better. What were you hoping to accomplish? It’s okay to be real. Sometimes we feel a need to be acknowledged for hard work or a good deed, but if our needs for this get in the way of actually doing good, what is the point? Use this meditation any time you are feeling pulled into drama of any sort.
Meditation #2: Starting the same way as in the previous meditation, allow yourself to see the situation you inquire about. Now, take a moment to get grounded, feeling roots going into the earth from your feet and root chakra. Once you are feeling connected to the earth, look to see what is going on with your question. What is it you think needs to happen? Recognize that your personal idea of what is right may only fit your personal agenda and may be bad medicine for the others involved. Take a moment to ask what it is that you can do to truly help in this situation. Let go of your personal agenda and ask from the heart without being attached to the outcome. See if you get any new inspirations. If an idea comes to you, sit with it. Run it through the scene and see how well it works with everything else. If it seems like it is helpful, take a moment to ask permission to act. Really open up your heart and wait for an answer. If you feel a sense of openness and expansion, then this can be taken as a sign that your selfless help could be handy. If you feel a sense of contraction, then hold off. And remember to ask permission in real life. Good intentions don’t prevent us from doing harm, but asking permission can keep us out of trouble better than stepping in uninvited.
Maybe you are the one on the train, being bombarded by bombastic bids of advice. Take a moment to let it all go and see your own truth at the core of the babble:
Meditation #3: Sitting with a straight spine, close your eyes and relax. Breathe in even, slow breaths, filling up the belly and fully letting go on the exhale. Take a moment to think of all the advice, suggestions, hints, influences that are coming your way. If possible, see all of it as gifts; offerings of love and with good intentions. Maybe allow a moment of gratitude for all the people who are coming to assist you at this time. Now, imagine guiding all of these people and all of their words into another room where they can ponder and pontificate, philosophize and perseverate as they wish. Close the door behind them and witness the absolute silence that permeates your surroundings. Here, in this space, you can be with yourself, in peace, without the input of anyone else. Take a moment to just breathe in that sense of sanctuary and solitude. Now, as you let that sink in, connect with the place you feel your inquiry most (in your heart, your belly, your mind . . .). Ask yourself what feels right for you at this time? What is your next step? What guidance is wanting to come through at this time? Take as much time as you need to formulate a clear question, and then give yourself some time to open up (imagine actually opening up that part of you where you feel your question). See it opening up like a chalice to receive the answer, like water to quench a thirst. Notice what comes to you: sensations, visions, ideas, memories . . . these are the clues that will guide you to your highest wisdom and most effective advice. If it helps, take some time to make some art, do some dream-work, or some automatic writing to explore how your answer lies within the information that came up in this meditation. While others may offer helpful reflections, only we can discern what is best for us.