Skeleton

Strange little week, one day running as fast and long as I could, the next day too much idleness. At least I had the chance to have a nurse training with me. Old(-er) nurse, new to the OR, which is an entire world to itself.

And in showing her the ropes as I know them, I articulated to her in work terms, the kind of universal insight I've been taking in lately. How difficult it is to learn, or teach, when you can't slow the process down to watch it carefully, but have to take it at speed, and just catch on as best one can. How each person can only bring their own mistakes and experiences and biases to the student, and each one has only their own demons to show the learner.

I keep thinking about how what bothers us most in others is a reflection of what we know, deep down at least, what is most wrong in ourselves. This is why compassion for others is essential to the growth of our own souls, because what we abhor in others is a form of what is most lacking in ourselves. Whenever we complain of others, we aren't complaining about them, but exposing some weakness, some flaw in ourselves. The more we fight this, say it's different, I'm not like that, that's not my problem, the more we can pinpoint what it is we see. Because it isn't a clear mirror, it's just twisted enough that we don't recognize ourselves in it. And that is exactly why we are so frightened. Maybe it's an exaggeration, or reversed, or stretched out, but it is still, always, us. Me.

And only by treating it like a frightened cat, a beaten child, with great tenderness, can we coax it out, and understand the ignorant and feral fear. Everyone searching for enlightenment knows that compassion is important. I think this is why. The demons are not out there, never were. They are inside, and like hallucinations, we see them as external. We have to kindly nurture ourselves, gradually brighten the closet, and let the skeletons out to dance.