I had a very hard time admitting this to myself. I had to struggle with years of accumulated pride. But as I gradually swallowed the bitter pill, I discovered a marvelously free feeling. I was in control. I could choose a better way. I was responsible for myself.
Now when I get into a frustrating situation, I pause. I examine my tendencies. I compare them against my vision. I back away from speaking impulsively or striking out. I constantly strive for perspective and control.
Because the struggle continues, I retire frequently to the solitude of my own inner self to recommit to win my battles privately, to get my motives straight.
This woman was able to create a pause button or a space between what happened to her and her response to it. And in that space she was able to act instead of react. Now how did she do that?
Notice how she was able to step back and almost observe herself—to become aware of her own behavior. This is the first unique human gift: self-awareness. As humans we can stand apart from our own life and observe it. We can even observe our thoughts. We can then step in to make changes and improvements. Animals cannot do this, but we can. This mother did. And it led her to important insights.
The second gift she used was her conscience. Notice how her conscience—her moral or ethical sense or “inner voice”—let her know deep inside that the way she was treating her children was harmful, that it was taking her and her children down the same heartbreaking path that she had walked as a child. Conscience is another unique human gift. It enables you to evaluate what you observe about your own life. To use a computer metaphor, we could say that this moral sense of what is right and wrong is embedded in our “hardware.” But because of all of the cultural “software” we pick up and because we misuse, disregard, and neglect this special gift of conscience, we can lose contact with this moral nature within us. Conscience gives us not only a moral sense but a moral power. It represents an energy source that aligns us with the deepest and finest principles contained in our highest nature. All six of the major religions of the world—in one way or another and using different language—teach this basic idea.
Now notice the third gift she used: imagination. This is her ability to envision something entirely different from her past experience. She could envision or imagine a far better response, one that would work in both the short and the long term. She recognized this capacity when she said, “I was in control. I could choose a better way.” And because she was self-aware, she could examine her tendencies and compare them against her vision of that better way.
And what is the fourth gift? It’s independent will—the power to take action. Listen to her language again: “I back away from speaking impulsively or striking out. I constantly strive for perspective and control” and “Because the struggle continues, I retire frequently to the solitude of my own inner self to recommit, to win my battles privately, to get my motives straight.” Just look at her tremendous intention and the willpower she’s exercising! She’s swimming upstream—even against deeply embedded tendencies. She’s getting a grip on her life. She’s willing it. She’s making it happen. Of course it’s hard. But that’s the essence of what true happiness is: subordinating what we want now for what we want eventually. This woman has subordinated her impulse to get back, to justify herself, to win, to satisfy her ego—all in the name of the wisdom that her awareness, conscience, and imagination have given her—because what she wants eventually is something far greater, far more powerful in the spirit of the family than the short-term ego gratification she had before.
These four gifts—self-awareness, conscience, creative imagination, and independent will—reside in the space we humans have between what happens to us and our response to it.
Animals have no such space between stimulus and response. They are totally a product of their natural instincts and training. Although they also possess unique gifts we don’t have, they basically live for survival and procreation.
But because of this space in human beings, there is more—infinitely more. And this “more” is the life force, the propensity that keeps us ever becoming. In fact, “grow or die” is the moral imperative of all existence.
Since the cloning in Scotland of a sheep named Dolly, there has been renewed interest in the possibility of cloning people and the question of whether it is ethical. So far, much of the discussion is based on the assumption that people are simply more advanced animals—that there is no space between stimulus and response and that we are fundamentally a product of nature (our genes) and nurture (our training, upbringing, culture, and present environment).
But this assumption does not begin to explain the magnificent heights that people such as Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, or Mother Teresa have climbed, or as many of the great mothers and fathers in the stories in this book have achieved. That is because deep in the DNA—in the chromosomal structure of the nucleus of every cell of our body—is the possibility of more development and growth and higher achievements and contribution because of the development and use of these unique human gifts.
Now as this woman learns how to develop and use her pause button, she is becoming proactive. She’s also becoming a “transition person” in her family—that is, she’s stopping the transmission of tendencies from one generation to another. She’s stopping it with herself. She’s stopping it in herself. She’s suffering, if you will, to some degree, which helps burn out the intergenerational dross—this inherited tendency, this well-developed habit to get back, to get even, to be right. Her example is like wildfire to the seedbed of the family culture, to everyone who had entered into this retaliating, contentious, fighting spirit.
Can you imagine the good this woman is doing, the change she’s bringing about, the modeling she’s providing, the example she’s giving? Slowly, subtly, perhaps almost imperceptibly she is bringing about a profound change in the family culture. She’s writing a new script. She has become an agent of change.
We all have the ability to do this, and nothing is more exciting. Nothing is more ennobling, more motivating, more affirming, more empowering than the awareness of these four gifts and how they can combine together to bring about fundamental personal and family change. Throughout this book we will explore these gifts in depth through the experiences of people who have developed and used them.
The fact that we have these four unique gifts means no one has to be a victim. Even if you came from a dysfunctional or abusive family, you can choose to pass on a legacy of kindness and love. Even if you just want to be kinder and more patient and respectful than some of the models you’ve had in your life, cultivating these four gifts can nourish that seed of desire and explode it, enabling you to become the kind of person, the kind of family member you really want to be.
A “Fifth” Human Gift
As Sandra and I have looked back at our family life over the years, we’ve come to the conclusion that, in one sense, we could say there is a fifth human gift: a sense of humor. We could easily place humor along with self-awareness, imagination, conscience, and independent will, but it is really more of a second order human gift because it emerges from the blending of the other four. Gaining a humorous perspective requires self-awareness, the ability to see the irony and paradox in things and to reassert what is truly important. Humor draws upon creative imagination, the ability to put things together in ways that are truly new and funny. True humor also draws on conscience so that it is genuinely uplifting and doesn’t fall into the counterfeit of cynicism or putting people down. It also involves willpower in making the choice to develop a humorous mind-set—to not be reactive, to not be overwhelmed.
Although it is a second order human gift, it is vitally important to the development of a beautiful family culture. In fact, I would say that in our own family the central element that has preserved the sanity, fun, unity, togetherness, and magnetic attraction of our family culture is laughter—telling jokes, seeing the “funny” side of life, poking holes at stuffed shirts, and simply having fun together.
I remember one day when our son Stephen was very young, we stopped at the dairy to get some ice cream. A woman came rushing in, zooming past us in a big hurry. She grabbed two bottles of milk and hurried to the cash register. In the rush, the momentum caused the heavy bottles to bang together, exploding and causing glass and milk to fly all over the floor. The whole place became totally silent. All eyes were on her in her drenched and embarrassed state. No one knew what to do or say.