Showing posts with label problems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label problems. Show all posts

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Tofu or not tofu? That is the question!

Ever had hot dog tofu? Me either. Who knew it even existed? I mean, wow. Little did I expect the lesson that it conceals.

Recently, our good friend Bob shared how working with ACIM has been leading him to see the sameness of all of our problems and the sameness of his personal daily experiences. He has started seeing beyond varying forms to the singular content behind them all. It was a moving description. Then, he hit us with it….tofu. Bob turned bean curd into an unforgettable lesson in forgiveness. For this, we clearly owe our gratitude.

You see, it seems that tofu is not our Father’s tofu anymore. Some of us crazy kids have taken it to new levels. Apparently, there are flavors of tofu for every occasion and need….or seeming need. There are all manners of fruit flavors, meat flavors, and of course, the old standby - stinky tofu. There’s spicy Thai flavored tofu, portabella ham, spinach jalapeƱo, and shitake garlic flavored tofu. And yes, even hot dog tofu. As Bob so passionately exclaimed, “But it is all still tofu!”

Indeed it is. And such is the world. Nothing here is as it seems. Everything here is a cover, an interpretation, and interpretation is never reality. We are so lost in our myriad flavors that we’re no longer aware of their source. As such, we never respond to anything directly. We respond to what we think it is, and we justify our response based on something other than reality. We eat the hot dog flavored tofu and believe it is a hot dog.

Our judgment of each other is the means by which we keep this unreality in our awareness. We never see each other as we are, but rather as we need each other to be. We need each other to be the myriad flavors when in reality, the flavors are but a mask pulled over who we really are. We gladly don the masks terrified by what they obscure.

When we identify with our little buddy, the ego, (and we all do), we spend most every hour of every day analyzing our own distorted perceptions (the masks) in an attempt to demonstrate that we understand what we see, hear, and experience, never realizing that we are analyzing nothing but a flimsy veil, a trick-or-treaters masquerade .

T.12.I.3.3-5 Every loving thought is true (read: tofu). Everything else (read: flavors) is an appeal for healing and help, regardless of the form it takes. Can anyone be justified in responding with anger to a brother’s plea for help?

Our call is but to recognize the flavors as what they are - our brother’s plea to remind him that he isn’t a hot dog. He, too, is tofu, just like you.

I gotta go eat.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Gone Fishin'

So, what the heck is the problem with fishing you may ask! Oh, where to begin? Have you ever been fishing?

I’ve just returned from a fishing vacation. Some friends and I spent most of last week in hot pursuit of little green fish. That in and of itself could be the problem! The weather is always a problem. Sometimes, it’s the bugs, the tackle, the boat, the mood of said little green fish. Problem, problem, problem.

The seeming problem last week wasn’t the fishing. As most of us who have spent a long day on the water know, it was the catching! Sure, we caught some fish, but not the size or quantity that we expected. A friend sent me the following quote after our second day: “Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing it is not fish they are after.” Henry David Thoreau

A long-time fisherman, fan of Thoreau, and ACIM student, I have always held that quote dear. I’ve also said on many occasions that a true fisherman doesn’t have to catch fish to have fun. We had fun. Oh yes, we laughed a ton. But all of us had this tiny mad voice telling us that we should be disappointed, frustrated, etc. At times, some of us even listened.

Like everything else in our lives, the problem with fishing is that we think it is a problem. Actually, that is one of the things that I really love about it. To consistently catch fish, one must be able to solve puzzles. A good angler uses past experience, knowledge of seasonal patterns, weather, fish behavior, etc. to figure out where and how to get them into the boat. Of course, a puzzle isn’t necessarily a problem, and neither the fishing nor the catching was really the problem on our trip.

One problem; one solution.

The problem is that not catching fish threatened our identity. We all consider ourselves fairly good fishermen. A dear friend calls me “the fish whisperer”. I take conscious pride in my ability to consistently solve the puzzle! Last week, I couldn’t. I got the corner pieces and most of the sides, but the whole puzzle eluded me. Who was I?

Our little imaginary friend - the ego - defends our seeming identity tooth and nail. Who are we without our descriptions of ourselves, without our beliefs about ourselves, without our judgments? The ego is these beliefs. It depends on how we’ve “described” ourselves, because it is the differences (judgments). The fear over that loss of identity is what every single one of us experiences over and over and over, day-in and day-out. It is the disappointment, the frustration, the depression that we secretly delight in. Why? Because that fear reinforces who we want to be (separate, distinct, special, etc.) In the ego’s topsy-turvy world, wholeness is deprivation. Anything that chips away at our seeming individual identity is therefore perceived as a threat.

Think about your “fishing”. Are you a good mom? A good friend? A talented artist or skilled professional? Do you have a green thumb? Are you a master in the kitchen? Are you spiritual? Maybe smart or funny? Perhaps, you are unlucky, unhappy, or unfairly treated. What defines you? What causes some discomfort when it is seemingly taken away?

Spend a few minutes with yourself today – not as you define yourself but as you are. Try to move beyond the descriptions. Who are you without these ideas? Who is the you asking the question?

See you on the water.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Our Invitation to Healing

When we pull up to an intersection and somebody approaches us looking for some change, the rubber of our spiritual journey indeed meets the road of our everyday life. The practical application of our study, our path, meets us head on. Do we drop some change in the cup?

Thankfully, this isn’t A Course in Behavior.

Remember, the problem isn’t where we think it is. The question isn’t A or B.

Most of us could construct a moral argument for giving the dollar or not giving the dollar, and many would argue about what the “loving” thing to do is. Isn’t it amazing that we think that we know? Isn’t it funny that we think that we know AND that we think that there could be an alternative to Love? That simple conflict should be a fairly significant clue that we have no idea about Love. Our judgment about the receiver of the dollar, the giver of the dollar, and the value of the dollar, keeps Love from our awareness.

The only question worth asking of anything in this world is “What is it for?” What is its purpose? The dilemma over the dollar has a clear purpose. It says that the problem is out there and so is the solution. It reinforces the judgment that makes A or B meaningful. It clouds our vision of our brother.

Like every other external question in our lives, the seemingly conflicted form can serve a new purpose, too. It can remind us that the problem isn’t out there, and the problem isn’t a question. The problem is a decision.

The decision for guilt is the glue that binds the fragmented world of form together in one twisted purpose. It is the decision for guilt that gives A or B meaning. It is this decision that imprisons us to conflict, attack, and pain. When we recognize that the problem is a decision, we’re halfway home. Now, all that is required is the little willingness to give up what we’ve chosen by recognizing that we no longer want it.

Practically, when we are willing to decide against all of the obstacles (our judgments) that we’ve erected between ourselves and Love, Love is free to flow through us and inform whatever situation or circumstance in which we find ourselves. In other words, when I forgive myself for judging my brother, judging myself, and judging the value of my gift, Love will take whatever form best symbolizes that decision in that moment. It could be that I give a dollar; it could be that I do not. It could be that I offer a smile; it could be that I offer a meal. Again, it isn’t the form that determines value; it is the content. What am I offering? What is my brother offering? When the answer to those questions are the same, peace is the result.

Remember, ACIM is not a positive course in that it doesn't teaches us what to do; it is a course in undoing the negative. ACIM is a course in removing the obstacles that we’ve placed between who we think we are and our True Identity. ACIM is a course in looking. It is in the looking that we recognize what we’ve chosen and that we no longer want it. That’s where healing starts. That’s what every brother is offering. That’s what everything is for.

But look upon a forgiven world, a world released from guilt, and you are transformed. The sickness that we perceive is but our invitation to heal.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

The Problem with Missouri

“I’m Missouri”, exclaimed one of my favorite teachers, “I’m Missouri”! I knew what he meant. I grew up in the Midwest, and the “show me” state was an old friend of mine. What my friend was saying was, “When will I get it?” Show me. That’s a question we all ask at some point on our journey. In my experience, it usually slips out right before a significant shift, so let’s share my friend’s epiphany.

The problem with Missouri is the definition of “me”. Same for the rest of us. My friend did what we all do when we read A Course in Miracles or embark on any spiritual path. In the beginning, we think the “you” on the journey is the one we see in the mirror every day, the body. The body, which includes the brain, will never “get it”. It can’t. The body is a defense against getting it, because the body’s purpose is to continually reinforce that it is you – over and over and over and over – every second of every minute of every day. This hamster wheel of insanity is the foundation of the ego’s thought system, the thought system of differences, separation, and pain.

The ego can’t ask a meaningful question. The question, “When will I get it?”, isn’t a question at all but rather a statement in the form of a question. The statement is that this is me, separate and distinct, and I don’t get it. Neither is true. Both seem to be true. But neither is true.

We can’t understand the content of A Course in Miracles or any other path to Love from within the dream meant to keep it out. Einstein observed that the significant problems we have cannot be solved at the same level of thinking with which we created them. In this context, I can’t “get it” from here. My friend asked if I got it or if Wapnick got it. “Show me!”, he said. I reminded him that no body gets it. Bodies don’t “get”. Bodies don’t understand. Bodies do what they are told.

The Manual for Teachers (one of three sections in ACIM) asks, “How many teachers of God are needed to save the world?” The answer is one. Getting it means that we identify with the one dreamer of the dream and not one of billions and billions of figures (bodies) within the dream. Getting it means that we recognize that Wapnick getting it and my friend not getting doesn’t make any sense. How could wholeness not include both?

“So when will I get it?” An excellent question, because the answer leads us ever closer to home. I will get it when I am willing to give up my definition of me. I will get it when I am willing to let go of my purpose for the world. I will get it when I no longer wish to sleep. And all that is required is my will.

What do you want?

Friday, January 16, 2009

The Problem with Perception (Part 1 of 6)

Every problem in your life, every one, is a perception problem. Think about this for a minute. Think about the problems that confronted you today. Think about your health, bank account, relationships, work, laundry, or drive home. Whatever it is, how do you know you have it? The answer, of course, is simple. We see the pile of work on our desk. We feel the pain in our stomach. We hear the creditor’s phone call. We smell the motor burning up in our car. From this perspective, perception’s link to our problems is relatively clear. Perception is the medium of our problems, the medium of all experience. We’ll start there.

Webster defines perception as “the faculty by which man holds communication with the external world or takes cognizance of objects outside the mind.” Ostensibly, our senses, the seeming agents of our perception, bring data to the brain in the form of light waves, sound waves, nerve impulses, etc. As many of us know, or have heard, the brain then filters out most of what it deems unimportant, and we perceive what we unconsciously “think” is important. This is helpful, since interpreting some 400 billion bits of information per second is a little cumbersome when driving down the road!

Not only are we not seeing the whole of reality, but we all see what we see differently. Many of us have been in a psychology class or a criminology class during which an individual enters the room, usually in a hooded garment, accosts the professor, and takes his or her wallet or purse. Nobody in the class knows that it is a set-up except for the professor, who then asks the class to describe the perp. Inevitably, there are almost as many descriptions of the intruder and what happened as there are students in the class. Some say male; some say female. Some say he had a gun; some say she had a stapler. Some say the hoodie was black; some say the intruder was wearing a hat! Perception is faulty. It is not exact. It is never reality.

Science echoes the same. Nothing is as it seems. First, we recognize ourselves with our basic senses. We see our reflection in the mirror. We feel our legs, our arms, or our fingers. Quickly, science shows us that there is more to the story than meets the eye, as we discover that we are actually made up of countless cells, which we quickly realize are made up of an ever- enlarging number of smaller units, molecules, atoms, etc. Quantum physics comes along and says that when we look closer still, the distinction between our body and the chair upon which we sit begins to blur. Closer still, and there is nothing but infinite space, infinite possibilities. Similarly, what we experience evolves as our perceiving devices evolve. In the not-so-distant past, x-rays, ultrasound, and DNA didn’t exist for us, because we didn’t have the ability to perceive them. Were they there prior? Where does the image rendered by x-rays exist? Where is the sound which we label “ultra”? All of which may beg the age-old question, “If a tree falls in the woods, does it make a sound?” Simply: of course not. Sound depends on a perceiver. Sound, like all perception, is an interpretation of the brain, which is designed to receive the sound waves, transform them into a mental image, and give that image a name. Without the interpretation device, there is no sound. How could there be? Where would it be? A rabbit hole? Depends on if you perceive one.

Perception, then, is simply what we think we see, hear, feel, smell, or taste. Again, perception is never the whole picture; it is an interpretation of reality, a substitute for reality. Lau Tzu once opined, “That is real which never changes.” Perception depends on change. There must be a subject observing or experiencing an object or sensation that is different or changed in time, space, or even memory. Everything we perceive will change. Was it real before it changed? Is it real now? Perceptions are unreal, because they change.

So, if perception isn’t reality, then what is it? If something isn’t reality, by definition, it has to be an illusion. Illusions seem real, but they aren’t. When a magician saws her assistant in half, it seems real, but we know it isn’t. Perception is an illusion of reality based on our own interpretation of sensory data filtered through the lens of our own awareness. In other words, none of us look at the same situation or the same thing in exactly the same way. We all bring our own past experiences, thoughts, and beliefs to the table thus altering “reality” to fit our own understanding of what we have seen, heard, etc. Therefore, what I hear you say, or see you do, cannot help but be influenced by my own notions of the words that you have used, the tone in your voice, past experience, etc. There is no objective reality here. Whatever I see, it is I who determine what it means. Whatever I hear, it is I who determine what it is I’ve heard. Sure, we may collectively agree on some things, but I still choose. What we begin to realize as we bounce further down our current rabbit hole is that everything we perceive is actually a symbol for our own belief, our own thoughts, and our own awareness. Our belief then, actually determines what we perceive. Stay with me here. Since perception is the medium of our experience, and what we perceive is really our choice, it is only a bunny hop at most to conclude that what we experience is but our choice. What we experience is our choice. Read the last sentence one more time. Ponder it. Let it sink in. Depending on how far you are willing to go, there will likely be some pain, some resistance. It will pass.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Thank you, Oprah, for being our teacher. (Where is the balance?)

I spent an hour with one of my favorite teachers this week. Well, actually it was more like 40 minutes thanks to Tivo. This was “Best Life Week” for Oprah, and a couple of episodes caught my attention.

Oprah is one of my favorite teachers for a couple of reasons: 1) She is a perpetual student, seemingly always interested in growth, understanding, and ultimately peace of mind, and she consistently challenges us to see things differently and share her journey. 2) Oprah has become one of our enduring symbols of success, yet she willingly demonstrates that she still struggles with the same seeming problems, and therefore core problem, that we all do. That’s helpful.

On last Tuesday’s show, Oprah talked about her ongoing struggle with weight. For our purposes, insert your own problem, whatever it is today, for “weight". In an amazingly open and sincere effort to conquer this “problem”, Oprah took the first step that all of us have to take. We have to simply be willing to give up the way that we’ve been looking at our seeming problem. After some fairly intense looking and consultation with Marianne Williamson and trainer Bob, Oprah recognized that what she was hungry for wasn’t food but love. Awesome. That’s the second step. Here’s where most of us struggle. What does that mean, and what’s next? For Oprah, it meant coming to the conclusion that the problem was balance. She spends so much time giving and living for others that she was ignoring herself, so she’s put herself back on the list scheduling work-out times, manicures, etc. That should indeed help….at least for a while.

So the points I’d like for us to ponder today are these:

1) We all must be vigilant against problem substitution. Because we believe the problem is here (in the world), we also believe the solution is as well. We are all very adept at giving up on yesterday’s solution (because it didn’t work) and substituting a new solution (thus seemingly shifting the problem). In Oprah’s case, we see the shift from “I want to be thin” to “I want to be healthy” – from diet and exercise to balance. Now, don’t hear me say that these things shouldn’t be pursued. If I’m heavy and I want to be thinner, there are typically things that I can do in form to change that. What I am suggesting is that we remember that not only is the weight not the problem but also that the seeming solution isn’t the new problem. We still take care of these things, because we believe that we’re here. But we also start to use them in a new way. We start to recognize that these seeming problems and seeming solutions are pointers to (reminders of) where the problem really is.

2) What is balance? From the perspective of the world, “balance” is the equalizing of competing or separate interests. Again, in Oprah’s example, she is trying to balance giving to the world with giving to herself. Certainly makes sense here. “Here” is all about this definition of balance. Everything “here” must be balanced. We balance sleep with waking. We balance the amount of food it takes to efficiently run our bodies with not enough food or too much food. We balance the amount of air we take into our lungs. We balance our relationships, our work, time with friends, speed going down the road, our bank accounts – all of it. Why? The world rests on a fulcrum of judgment. That’s what the world is. Think of the world as a see-saw. The see-saw’s purpose isn’t balance. It is set up to teeter one way or another. If I start spending more time on me, I’m spending less time on you. Eventually, the teeter totters, and I have to start spending more time with you. It’s the same for every seeming problem.

So, what’s the alternative? Using Oprah's example, until we remember that loving somebody else is loving ourselves (and vice versa), we’ll ride the see-saw of insanity back and forth loving somebody for a while then taking time to love ourselves for a while. We’ll never be balanced, because we’ll always be in flux, on one side of the fulcrum or the other. “Balance” really means equalizing. We can’t do that here. Yes, we all try, every minute of every day. We all try to figure out our own personal formula for balancing the world and achieving peace of mind, yet we can never really find it here. “Here” is always tipped one way or the other. Lasting balance will never be the result of manipulating “here” (form), because "here" always changes. Balance is the result of the changed purpose of “here” (content). Remember, the world is an outside picture of an inward condition. If we want to change the world, we must change our mind about the world – again, what that means is that we change the purpose of the world.

Balance is a decision, plain and simple. It’s the decision to give up our judgment, which really means that we don’t take our judgment so seriously (Remember, we look at our judgment without judgment). Again, it is our judgment that tells us where on the see-saw our experience is. (Is it up? Is it down? Is it left? Is it right?) When we change the purpose of the see-saw, we’ve changed our experience of it. Instead of the see-saw seemingly telling us what balance is or where balance is, we bring balance to the see-saw. The see-saw may not change, but instead of reinforcing our sub-conscious, out-of-balance decision, it now serves the purpose of reminding us that we made the decision. Now, that's helpful.

Instead of finding ourselves on the left or the right side of the see-saw and trying to figure out how to fix it, these two seemingly different forms (more of this or less of that) now serve to reflect the balance that we’ve chosen, the goal that we've set, because they share the same purpose. They’ve been equalized in content. They no longer serve the differences that our judgment demands. They now serve the sameness that undoing our judgment bestows. Now, they balance, no matter where on the see-saw they appear to be.

Again, we bring our balance to the situation or circumstance. When we bring our balance to the time-for-you/time-for-me question, we recognize that they are the same, which has the added benefit of removing the guilt from both. I can’t love you and not love me. I can’t love me and not love you. Now, we’re balanced. Now, the purpose of whatever we do is the same, and the world’s purpose is clear. Now, we know where the balance is.

PS I’m not in any way suggesting that Oprah’s quest for balance is or isn’t the result of what we’ve just discussed. There is no way to know by looking at behavior (form). What I am suggesting is that if abiding peace isn’t the result, she (we) may choose to look at what we think the problem is once again.

PPS Thank you, Oprah, for being our teacher.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

The Problem Isn't What You Think

I mean this literally. Your problem, whatever it seems to be, is not the result of your thinking….no matter what the latest guru tells you or sells you. In fact, your thinking has but one purpose and that is to keep you away from the real problem. The problem isn’t what we think. The problem is that we think we can think.

Like perceiving, thinking is a way for us to categorize, classify and analyze a world that our brains are made to experience. Thinking, just like perceiving, simply reinforces where we “think” the problem is and keeps us focused where the solution isn’t.

At some point, our faith in our thinking wanes. Sure, positive thinking helped us land that new job, but what about the 401k or the war? At some point, the law of attraction fails us. (Did we ever really believe that the universe was a great catalog?) The universe is a defense, plain and simple. The world is a defense, plain and simple. Both seemingly engage our senses and our “thought” with relentless authority. Both scream, “The problem is here! The problem is here!” The problem is that we “think” we only have ears to hear this insanity. Perhaps, even closer to the problem, we only want ears to hear this insanity.

We do always get what we want. The law of attraction does work. The problem is that we have no idea what we’ve really wished for. We have no idea what we have really attracted. We have no idea that our magical thinking has only reinforced the lack in our experience. We have no idea that that our magical thinking has merely reinforced the judgment and the guilt that are the heart of our only problem.

The problem isn’t what you think, but thinking has surely obfuscated the problem.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

So, What's the Problem?

So, what’s the problem? We have no idea.

We think we know.

We think our problem is our pain, our debt, our parents, our spouse, our children, the death of a loved one, the war, the terrorists, the Republicans, the Democrats, the cancer, the child molesters…the list goes on and on. Think about your biggest problem right now. Are you sick? In trouble? Have you lost your job or somebody close to you? Has your spouse cheated on you? Are you in debt? Perhaps you don’t know what to do with your life? No doubt all of us can identify at least one fairly serious problem in our lives. If not, we will.

We have sought solutions in myriad forms ranging from drugs to religion, from forgiveness to revenge. We’ve been taught to turn the other cheek, to be grateful our situation isn’t worse, and to pray. Sometimes we feel better for a while, but inevitably, a new problem’s ugly head demands our attention.

We encounter our first problems in this world within seconds of being born. Suddenly we are cold. We can’t breathe, and someone has smacked a part of ourselves that we didn’t even know we had! We may not “know” that we have problems at this point, but they are there. As luck would have it, somebody quickly finds a solution for us.

This prototypical moment begins a pattern repeated for much of the rest of our lives. In this moment we have our first introduction to solving one problem (the inability to breathe) with a solution (a quick swat on the backside), which quickly becomes our new problem (the pain in our newly discovered bottom). Soon, we begin to recognize a discomfort in our bellies that seems to disappear after we cry and food shows up. Gratefully, somebody starts patting us on the back to solve a new pain, a new problem. Obviously, none of this is conscious in a newborn. We don’t understand the problem or the solution, but we are certainly receiving our first messages about the world and the beginning lessons in our life-long relationship with our problems.

By the time we’re three, we’ve usually begun to experience another one of the problems with problems: solved problems don’t always go away. Again, at the age of three we don’t think about this consciously, but we certainly begin to recognize it as a reality. That hunger that we cried about yesterday is still here today. We also begin to fundamentally recognize that solutions change, too. Sometimes crying gets us dinner; sometimes crying gets us sent to our room. We begin to learn to develop new solutions, and then again, those solutions become new problems. The food, which we thought was the solution to our hunger problem, turns out to be spinach, Brussels sprouts or liver and onions, and we cry again.

By our pre-teen years, we’ve really begun a new phase of our relationship with our problems. We’ve begun to define ourselves by our problems. We’re the short kid. We wish we were like Mike. We’re the kid with acne. We wish we had Jessica’s skin. We don’t have enough money. We wish that we’d been born in another family. We aren’t smart enough, strong enough, or cute enough. We’ve identified with our problems; we’ve indeed become our problems.

And then sometimes, we identify with the seeming solutions to our problems, our defenses against these problems. We’re the kid with the really cool car. We’re the kid with the biggest allowance. We’re the lead in the play. Thank goodness. We learn to be grateful for these saviors. We desperately hope these solutions don’t disappear. That would be a problem. We’re happy for a while.

Amazingly, the older we get, the more problems we seem to have. Sure, we seem to have the food and shelter problems handled, but what about college for the kids? What about cholesterol? What about the Middle East? The problems keep rising up, and we keep beating them down with potential solutions. Most of us just want to be happy.

Think for a minute about your day, about your life. What happens in your day that isn’t the result of a problem or a potential solution to a problem? We went to sleep last night to solve the problem of weariness. When we woke up this morning, most of us ran to the bathroom to solve yet another problem. We had a bagel and coffee to solve the problem of hunger, perhaps a hangover, for a while. We brush our teeth to solve the bad breath problem and hopefully the plaque problem. We get dressed to solve our body temperature and modesty problems. We drive to work to solve our proximity problem. Our work, of course, solves our unemployment problem, not to mention our hunger, shelter, healthcare, new car, new couch, retirement, don’t- want-to-be-kicked-to-the-curb problems! Walk through your day. Pay attention. Be honest. On some level are your relationships with your loved ones there to solve your loneliness, sense of belonging, and survival problems? Of course, sometimes our loved ones are the problem! Is that TV show or good book there to solve your boredom problem, or maybe it just keeps you from having to face another problem?

The point here isn’t to convince you that everything in your life is a problem, although if you went that far, don’t despair. You may be on to something. The point is for us to think, to challenge the same old way that we’ve looked at ourselves, our lives, and our problems. Einstein wisely observed that the significant problems we have cannot be solved at the same level of thinking with which we created them. Have you ever thought about who you would be without your problems? Have you ever wondered why we have problems? What is their purpose? Many of us have asked these questions at some point in our lives, and most of us have just decided that that is the way it is. Some have decided that these are lessons that we have to learn. We are certainly learning something. The question is, what? What indeed. This blog is dedicated to finding out. Exercises like the preceding one are proverbial rabbit holes. We will certainly go down many in the following posts, not in an attempt to find the end, but rather to facilitate a new level of thinking. How far you go is up to you.