Castles and Cannons (Part Three)

. . . For me the garden provides an answer when faced with castles. The construction of a castle is not without cost. The stones and mortar needed for its construction and the guards required to defend it consume a large amount of personal energy. It is the sound of cannonballs bouncing off its walls that justify that cost. Facing the planting of a garden is another matter. Since a garden cannot attack no defense is necessary. When the attack subsides the person in the castle becomes isolated, alone in its drafty mass. My experience has shown me that those who live in castles become curious of anyone who cultivates a garden within sight of its towers. First peering from its windows, then through a side door reserved for exploring such matters they will exit the castle and inquire as to the true intention of the garden for it will not be obvious to them. It is then that the contents of the garden are offered. Freely. To nourish. To provide what they had sought to ignore.

I’ve also seen where gardens are useful when facing cannons. Those who possess big cannons look for big obstacles to destroy. Cannons are heavy and take a good deal of personal energy to haul about the countryside. It is the size of the obstacles that are encountered along the way that justifies this effort. Encountering a garden in its path presents a curious situation to the gunner. Since gardens offer no defense they are useless to cannons. Even if a cannon takes aim on the garden and thoroughly pummels the garden’s furrows, this act is of little satisfaction to the owner of the cannon when they quickly discover that the barrage has done no more than to turn the soil over. As soon as the cannon is withdrawn, nature reestablishes itself and the garden once more thrives. With nothing to destroy it has been my experience that those who construct and maintain cannons will eventually return to the garden to rest themselves having found their activities to be an arduous campaign. It is now that they are pleasantly surprised for the contents of the garden are offered freely, without struggle. To give what they had sought to take without question.

I again would like to leave my story to list the attributes of gardens. They are:

PLANT A GARDEN: listen, share ideas & experiences, communicate with compassion, compromise, be as honest as you can be, share resources, promote patience, seek understanding, view every One with value . . .

Feel free to add to your own list. My experience has shown that castles and cannons need each other in order to justify their existence. Gardens are their own justification. Gardens exist in an environment of compassion and a belief in abundance. This environment and belief is available to any One who begins this practice. Now I would like to finish my story.

I returned to my two combatants at a second meeting called some days later and shared with both of them that I had thought a great deal about what they had said. I told them that my conclusion was that big castles attract big cannons so maybe it was time for us to plant a garden together instead.

The question facing us now became, “How can I contribute?” During the course of their new conversation I could hear each ask, “Have you considered?” and “Help me understand.” What ensued was a lesson in contributing to the whole and how every person possesses a unique part of the cosmic puzzle. They each made their contribution. They reached consensus. A solution was crafted. We shared a toast over dinner.

I also returned to the site of my former home. Fortunately, for me, the foundation had been spared in my useless attack. Friends and family had already gathered to begin the process of rebuilding a new structure in my absence. We all held hands and sang when I showed them where the garden would be.

Castles and Cannons (Part Two)

. . . The arguing between my colleagues was now getting vicious and my attention again returned to the situation at hand. A phrase came to me as I watched the two in front of me argue, one that would serve me for a long time to come. That phrase was, “Big Castles attract Big Cannons”. This seemed to fit their situation. The bigger the castle built by one was matched by a larger cannon from the other. If the walls were breached, then a bigger castle rose in its place with thicker walls and higher towers. The new castle was then met by the development of a larger cannon with a longer range and heavier projectiles. There was no end to this process in sight. So much energy was now being devoted to castles and cannons that the original issue which had brought us together was now lost in the debris.

I would like to interrupt my story at this point so that I can share with you a short list of the attributes of castles and cannons or the defensive and offensive tactics that people use when differences of opinion arise. My partial list is as follows:

CASTLES: hiding information, red tape, regulations, ”they made me do it”, hierarchies, closed doors, hidden agendas, being unavailable . . .

CANNONS: mandates, angry memos, litigation, my boss is bigger than yours, political pressure, us vs. them, imposed deadlines, shaming phrases . . .

You might wish to add to these lists yourself. I think you get the idea. OK, so what can be done about this? I feel that castles and cannons exist in an environment of fear and a belief in scarce resources. Without this environment and belief there is no need for either. What to do . . . . . . I return to my story.

I brought our session to an end and asked these two to see me later so that we all might spend some time to reflect on all that had been said. On my way to the car I recalled a personal experience where I used castles and cannons to settle a dispute. I have always felt that my relationships were like buildings, each with their own character and use. One long term relationship I had was like an English Tudor I moved into long ago. Over time this house had become a home, very comfortable and warm. If things went wrong, like the water line failed or the roof needed new shingles, I worked on these problems as they appeared and was able to put the home in working order in a good humored way.

During a recent set of episodes, however, it seemed as if the home had become a shelter, needing just one thing after another. Without realizing it I was moving well beyond my ability to respond to the repairs that were needed. I did my best, or so I thought, but with each new day came a new problem. Then it happened. On probably the coldest day of my experience the heater went out and I snapped. I was so angry and upset that I screamed that I couldn’t take it anymore, not one more day, and proceeded to do whatever was necessary to rid myself of that pile of sticks and broken hardware. I got a can of gasoline and soaked that place from one end to the other. I rolled up a mighty artillery piece I borrowed from my father and aimed it point blank at the front door. Without a word, without warning I pulled the firing mechanism. In an instant the timber structure evaporated into millions of tiny pieces that either lit up the sky like the Fourth of July or lay burning on the lawn.

It was done. I was pleased. In my anger and rage I had totally destroyed what had become the burden of my life. I laughed the laugh of revenge. I danced the dance of freedom. I sat on a bench across the street and smiled the smile of a master of his own fate. I was delighted with myself. I wondered why I hadn’t done this sooner. I smiled on the second day. I laughed on the third. I felt as if I would feel this way forever . . . until it rained.

Later, in the frigid, rain soaked coat of my embarrassment I thought to myself, “I sure could use that house right now. There must be a better way than using my energies in this manner. There must be an alternative to castles and cannons.”

The answer came to me in the quiet way that these things do. It was during a stroll through a nearby forest that brought me the answer. It came as I gazed at some wild flowers that swept through a meadow. Plant a Garden. This was the answer to castles and cannons . . .

(to be continued)

Castles and Cannons (Part One)

Have you ever wondered why Others see the world in the way they do? Or how issues between two thoughtful, caring individuals can go so wrong so fast? Have you wondered what could be done to resolve issues early, before these same issues take on a personality all their own? I have. I would like to share a story with you of how I came to view this curious world of interpersonal dynamics and the actions I have chosen to take in order to simplify my life at work and at home.

As I recall, it all began as I was facilitating a disagreement between two individuals who were debating the eternal question, “WILL THIS EVER GET DONE RIGHT?”. Through the course of their discussion I was wondering what I could do to assist them in developing a consensus. Both individuals were very creative and each wanted to reach a place where they could simply have things done the right way, their way. Unfortunately, these individuals were about as far apart as two people could be regarding what the nature of the problem was and what would be the best way to resolve it. I could hear each of them essentially say the same thing to each other in their frustration, “CAN YOU HEAR ME?” and “HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?”. We were obviously at a stalemate but each had plenty of energy to offer so on and on they went.

As they continued their war of words my focus began to drift and I was soon reminded of a movie I once saw as a youth entitled The Pride and the Passion. It was about a war in Spain where the world’s biggest cannon was brought across hills and dales in order to breach the walls of the world’s biggest castle, avoiding all the king’s horses and all the king’s men along the way. It starred Cary Grant as an English military engineer, Frank Sinatra as a skinny patriot with too much makeup and a dream to free his land of the oppressive king, and Sophia Loren as a pillar of strength for Frank and a new love interest of Cary’s. The interactions between these principal actors took up much of the screen time which involved stealing the cannon and thinking of love and hauling the cannon and speaking of love and lowering the cannon and dreaming of love and hiding the cannon and being in love. For a boy of 10, I was not much interested in this love stuff because all I really was interested in watching was the performance of the real star of the show, the firing of the cannon.

The cannon was constructed as an ornamental piece by the king and stood in a town square many miles from his castle as a symbol of his authority. Since, at the time, it was physically the largest cannon ever constructed no one was sure if it could even be fired without exploding. If it would fire, however, it could be used outside the range of any cannon the king had and its cannon ball was so massive that it would easily breach the wall of the king’s castle. The peasants, seeing an opportunity and willing to take the risk, seized the massive cannon during the night and proceeded toward the castle with the intent of breaching the castle wall and killing the king.

The king’s castle was also a marvel. It was the largest ever constructed. Its walls were built thick enough so they could not be breached by the ordinary cannon of the day. The king felt safe in his magnificent fortress. But this castle did not come without a cost. In order to build such a castle it was necessary to rob the land of its wealth and concentrate these resources at one location. The king was firm in his resolve to live a life of power and privilege. His army pillared and plundered the countryside of its values and gold. He knew no mercy seated behind its massive gate.

The end of the movie was over quite quickly after the cannon arrived at its destination. Merely a few moments in the life of all those involved. At daybreak the cannon was fired, the wall was breached, and most everyone died in the ensuing battle, including the king. Only Cary was left to pick up the body of the woman he loved and tearfully view the remains of a man of simple means that he had grown to admire. As the long day ended, the cannon stood alone on the ridge from where it had been fired. The cannon was now as little use to those who had brought it there as the castle had become to the king . . .

(to be continued)

The Gift

She startled him, standing gently in the doorway to his shop that way.

He had sensed her pending arrival a few weeks before, but had given leave of this latest permutation after endlessly dusting the display of her latest book near the front door. And there she stands before him once more. The morning sunlight behind her pale to the color of her radiance now filling the room. He smiles.

“So . . . “ he begins, but is never quite sure if he finished his thought as he finds her in his arms. Years become moments to the silence of their embrace.

“Yes . . . “she whispers under her breath as they part to accept the gaze of each other’s love.

“The book !!” his words stumble forward and startle them both. “It’s a very good seller !” he says as he proudly motions to his display.

“Yes, the book,” she smiles with pride. “Truly one of my own. I’m pleased that you like it.” She pauses to take in the magnitude of this creation. “But, don’t you think that you’ve overdone the display just a little?” she laughs with appreciation of his thoughtfulness.

“It’s one of my favorites ! Besides, I have great fun telling those who have read it how I knew you way back when.”

Each steps back somewhat nervously and look about the store.

He suddenly recalls, “Since your book first came out I have hoped you’d stop by. I kept the first copy I received here at the store for you to autograph.” He pulls a boxed copy from his desk. “I special ordered this one. A proof print, you know. Would you do me the honor?”

“Of course,” she replies taking the book and a special pen he had provided. She spends no time at all to write what was to be written as if the words had been born so long ago. The cover closed, the book finds its way to the box, the box to the drawer, the drawer under lock and key. He will read the inscription after she has gone.

“Tell me now, how long can you stay?” He asks too soon that fatal question, a question he never understood to be the one that sent her away.

“I would enjoy spending the morning just sharing our moment with each other,” she says taking his hand and placing his palm over her heart.

He smiles that smile of remembering and runs the finger of his other hand over her lips and whispers, “I know . . . . . . with no strings attached.”

Hand in had they stroll all day to remember this and fancy that. Through the gift they gave each other, they found one thing they truly have.