Do you know how to catch a monkey?
I’m going to tell you, but first let me set the “stage.”
Five months ago, the room in which I’m currently sitting, L201 in the Davis Family Library at Middlebury College, contained twenty-eight bright, eager, and curious students and their Winter Term professor, me. I’ve returned to the classroom while I have a two-hour break between appointments so I can revisit and write about the thoughts and feelings stirred in my soul by two recent events in my life.
Today the room is empty, and a bit chilly. The deafening stillness, in stark contrast to the banter of engaged students whose energy filled the room with warmth, is interrupted by the occasional scratching of my pencil as I write these words.
That day, back in February as I completed the fifth year of the class, we were having typically cold Vermont weather. The class, as you may recall from some of my other blog posts, involved orchestrating readings and discussion related to new technologies and how they impact our values, relationships, and the ways we choose to express our thoughts and feelings. The temperature was in the low teens, the sun provided little warmth, and the campus grounds were covered by snow.
Today is overcast, and the forecasted showers have become a steady rain. If I don’t stand up and move from my seat every fifteen minutes or so the computer controlled lights dim and shut off–gloom is in the air.
Two weeks ago I received a letter from the Dean of Curriculum at the college stating that my proposal to teach in January of 2017 had been rejected by the curriculum committee, and to please call her. Though the course would not be in the Winter Term catalogue for 2017 she assured me that the decision was based on course overlap with full time faculty offerings, the curriculum committee’s desire for greater diversification in course offerings, and not a function of their assessment of my teaching or the value of the course. I’m disappointed, and though I may disagree with the decision, I accept it and I’m grateful for the challenge and opportunity to have worked with Middlebury College students.
I’m seated in the second row of the tiered classroom as equal measures of celebration and sadness seep into my soul—which brings me to the tale of how to catch a monkey!
South Sea islanders capture monkeys by hollowing out a gourd or coconut, placing enticing food (bananas, rice, or sweet beans) inside the gourd, and leaving an opening so small that only the monkey’s hand (with extended fingers0 can reach in and grab the morsels. Once its hand is clenched around the food, the hungry monkey’s fist is too large to withdraw from the gourd or coconut. Unwilling to relinquish its treasure, the monkey is trapped. Doesn’t the smart primate realize letting go is important? I guess not.
Like the monkey, I’ve found there are aspects of my life to which I cling that entrap me, labels and roles while rightfully achieved and attained, but to which I attach too much importance. Sometimes it gets to the point of posturing and “looking good.” They are my desired “bananas” and sometimes I don’t even know it.
How do I define who I am? The fact that I’m a clinical psychologist, a visiting instructor—a “this or that”—has importance, but when I attribute self-serving value to those roles, accomplishments etc. (my “sweet beans”) I miss the point.
Am I loving, kind, and tolerant; do I exercise patience with those who are vexing to me? Do I put aside criticism and judgment to embrace forgiveness? Am I affirming and accepting of those with whom I differ? Can I encourage relationships that challenge my way of seeing the world, or do I want friends and loved ones who only agree with me?
Do I like who I see in the mirror every morning, and when I don’t am I willing to change the source that makes the image troubling? Do I have the courage to step out of that comfort zone? Am I willing to disrupt the story I tell myself about who I am?
I loved my work and time as a visiting instructor and balked at not being included in the following year’s catalogue. In the end, though, I recognized that I needed to let go. Not to do so is to fall into the trap of feeling too enamored with myself as a professor and the hollowness of self-importance. Moreover, it would preclude my being receptive to what might await me around the next corner.
Unlike the hungry monkey, I will loosen my grasp on the alluring pieces of my life that distract and deter me from living fully. It may be easier to predict the weather, which, as I look out the windows in the rear of the classroom, has turned sunny.
by 
OK. This is now my favorite of your writings. I look to my great need for approval. When I bring home a painting, I cannot just let it show of it’t own. I have to ask, “what do you think?” Well who is going to say it’s lousy or try harder. Of course they will say what makes me feel good. I can judge for myself whether a piece is well done. I need to learn to just be and let that bring it’s own reward.
Thanks for the opportunity to take a look at that. By the way, I think you’re terrific. 🙂
Carmen,
A director friend of mine asked an acquaintance of his what he thought of the play my friend had directed. “Lousy,” said the acquaintance without explanation. My friend ruefully tells the story. We all need and want affirmation even when the task for which we seek it has been successfully accomplished and we know it! Letting life come to us on terms we don’t orchestrate is difficult. I like your paintings, and you didn’t ask!
Roger
I like that reminder to celebrate and embrace… for me, it sort of means, keep moving forward appreciating…
It’s hard to tell the truth. “Lousy” is hard to hear if you’ve worked hard to write a play.
I agree Lydia, and there are more constructive ways to say I didn’t like the play than “lousy,” and my friend knew that.
Roger
Hi Roger,
I like reading these posts from you. I’ve heard that monkey story, and agree that it is hard to let go of things, particularly those things that tend to make us look good or feel good. Thank you for sharing your struggles, an exercise which cultivates humility, a higher ranking, enduring quality which far exceeds any value you get from teaching a Winter Term course. I would guess, anyway!
Lydia,
Thank you. I keep looking for humility, courage, tolerance, patience, and many other worthy traits, but in the process of seeking to find them discover they’re “at my feet” if I’d let go and stopped clinging to what I thought was important I would have seen them.
Roger
It is important to let go so we can put something new in place. You had a great 5 years and a great ending. You impacted lives and enjoyed the experience. Celebrate and embrace new beginnings.
I like that reminder to celebrate and embrace… for me, it sort of means, keep moving forward appreciating…
Lydia,
Moving forward, celebrating, embracing, and appreciating that we can do so is wonderful especially when we are knee deep in schmutz, and unclear about what lies ahead. Keep moving and appreciating!
Roger
Alan,
Thanks for reading and your encouraging comments. Letting go for all of us, regardless of the context, is often tough because we cling to what has been good, but needs to be left behind, and the discomfort of risk of the new and unknown can be daunting. I love Linda Ellerbee’s sign-off phrase: “And so it goes…” I hope I got that right–if not someone please correct me–she deserves it.
Roger
A great story, well told. I beg to differ on the reason you chose to teach this subject of technology and communication as making you look good. I believe you took a risk of not looking good. As it turned out, the class was a big hit with the students and I’m very sorry the college neglected to see it’s worth. I believe creating dialogue with this subject is critically important, how it has overtaken not only young people but folks of all ages. The art of conversation and the ability to listen brings joy of connecting and the opposite, disconnection, suffering and empty lives. Sometimes not letting go is the good fight.
Hi Jo Anne,
I chose to be involved in this subject and teach at the college for the reasons you mention in your comments, and I agree that not letting go to fight the good fight is sometimes important–maybe even vital. It occurred to me after my tenure was over that the experience, however wonderful and valuable to all participants including me, also became a self-serving “press clipping” I bought into–an ego flattering, and unnecessary part of my psyche. I appreciate your comments.
Roger
From a friend: Proves we’re never too old to change for the positive!
Do I detect humility …trying to raise its soft and vulnerable face?
Or is it trust ….trying to find a safe home?
You never give up your quest…however difficult.
Laney,
I think all are involved–humility (a dose), trust and never giving up while searching for a safe home. The “junkyard dog” in me often shoos vulnerability and softness beyond the gates. Letting go has never been easy for me, but I like the work in progress. Thanks for reading and commenting.
Roger