Last week I went on a camping trip with my son (Yuri – 11 years) and one of his friends to the West Coast of Scotland.
We were relaxing around the fire late one afternoon and the boys started drawing things on stones with charcoal twigs from a previous fire. The yin/yang symbol suddenly became a fun thing to draw and then my son decided to make his “Ying/Yang” stone into a “god” to be worshipped. Soon there were flowers around the stone and we “had to” join in bowing down to the stone when Yuri (now a special servant of the stone and protected by it) declared in a powerful voice “All worship Ying/Yang”. Very quickly we were all into this and a story grew up around the powerful “Ying/Yang” stone and how it used to be a King and so on.
Then some ‘midgies’ came out (small biting flies that are famous on the West Coast in the summer time – I thought I would miss them in May).
I asked Yuri “Does “Ying/Yang” protect you against midgie bites?”
He replied “Don’t be silly Dad, it’s just a bloody stone!”
I laughed and laughed at that moment because I realised I wanted to make the “Ying/Yang” stone into something special and then Yuri’s words woke me up from the fantasy. I didn’t really like coming back to the reality that “Ying/Yang” was just a stone and not a powerful “god.” I was shocked at how quickly I could want something to be special and different.
We all like to make certain things mean something that they don’t. We may see them as powerful, beautiful, and wonderful while making ourselves less. We do this with people, books, places and ideas. We give away power and make ourselves small.
Is it because we don’t want to own our power?
When we make ourselves small we may seem to have escaped the responsibility that comes with being powerful but at the cost of loosing our true identity.