#1
What I Believe—About Onions
One
afternoon I wore my son’s swimming goggles when I chopped onions. For the first
time ever I shed no tears as I bottled a giant batch of salsa. Not long
afterward, when I only needed one onion for dinner, my eyes watered the
moment my knife cut through the papery outer layer covering an onion. Among the
thousands of onions I’ve sliced, diced, minced, shredded and chopped, this onion
became one I’ll never forget—because for weeks I’d had a specific question on
my mind, and at that moment I was thinking about how I’d recently discovered some answers.
The topic that had troubled me had continually begged for resolution. Eventually,
after tons of thought and effort a piece of the puzzle popped into my mind like a new layer,
and that little spark of enlightenment propelled my research forward in a new
direction. The new focus quickly led to answers that neatly fell like pennies, nickels,
dimes and quarters tumbling through a sorting machine. Everything landed in
their perfect place! The problem was solved and my mind rested with relief.
As
I peeled off the papery brown skin covering the onion and tossed it aside I was
thinking about the simplicity of the answers coming after the many hours of
thought, effort and study. Like a bolt of lightning it hit me:
Life is like an
onion.
There are layers and layers and more layers lying above the sweet inner
core of an onion, and layers and more layers of understanding and experience before we really know anything in life. There are layers of work,
layers of learning, layers of ah-ah! moments, layers of experiences, and layers
of understanding. Some layers are basically useless and could be tossed aside
like the outer onion layers. Those are the ones where we “just put in our time”
or we “barely get by” because our heart or thoughts aren't into going anywhere strong enough to get us moving. During these layers we aren’t really traveling in a positive
direction and we aren't gaining anything —except learning through experience how not to live, which of course, is another layer.
Unlike
onions, life’s layers never end. We might think we’ve reached the sweet, tender
heart, but then we have another experience come along that adds a greater layer
of meaning, whether it was a good experience or a tough one. Sometimes we
welcome the new layer, but sometimes it rocks our boat or completely capsizes
our life—or at least for a while. And then sometimes we think we’re there—at the perfect
core—the heart—the place where we think we know it all, have it all, understand it all, have
experienced it all, and there’s nothing new we could possibly learn about a certain topic (or many of them). It's as if we say, "No more
layers. Period. I've already arrived." That’s a layer where the heart, mind and soul close off, snapping
tightly shut, and we refuse to receive more layers. That’s a very unpleasant layer to get
stuck on, and it’s unpleasant when we encounter others stuck on that layer—and
it doesn’t matter whether that layer is closer to the core or nearer to the outer
skin. Put plainly, it’s not a good layer.
Since
life is like an onion, it’s best to realize that no matter what amount of insight,
understanding, knowledge or experience we think we have—and we all have some
amount in many areas—there is always more, and as sure as the sun will rise and set, we can be assured more experiences will come along carrying a basket full of unknown layers to offer us. We can row with
the current, against it, or pull our boat out of the stream for a while, but we can never
be 100% right, 100% knowledgeable, or 100% perfect in any topic. There is
always another layer. Always!
Additional
layers lying hidden and undiscovered is a comforting thing, really. It means we
are not stagnant beings. We can learn more, do better, achieve goals, alter our
positions, change perspectives, change our beliefs and shape our lives. We are
the sculptures carving our own statues, the painters painting our own
portraits, the writers writing our own history. And if we’ve messing up and our
canvas and marble and manuscripts look messy, we can tweak, whittle, scour,
scrub, delete and redo.
Wow!
If we can chart and change our course in life, others can too, therefore it’s
easy to believe in ourselves and other. None of our carvings, portraits or
stories are finished. There are many more layers to discover, and that is exciting!
*NOTE:
I love the above picture of an onion. This half sat in my fridge until it sprouted.
Just think what might happen if the sprouts were planted and grew! Life really
is like an onion. Not only are there layers upon layers in every given topic and
experience, but there are possibilities to discover entirely new onions! This
reminds me of one of my favorite Disney songs, Colors Of The Wind, sung by
Pocahontas: “You’ll learn things you never knew you never knew.”
*NOTE
#2: I’m assuming when I say we’re our own sculptor, painter and author, you
understand that I’m referring to being responsible for what we individually
think, say and do, rather than being in control of the external world happening to and around us. We all know we’re
not in charge of every experience and challenge we face, but only in how we meet them in our minds, speech
and deeds. Yep, you guessed it, I’ll share more about this in another What I
Believe. In the meantime:
Enjoy your onions,
and take your life to a new layer!
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