In his live-events Gabor Maté sometimes reads a passage from Marc Lewis and it touched me deeply. I’ve shared it with clients and friends a few times as well and I can’t make it through reading this text out loud without weeping. I invite you to take a moment, read this passage and let it sink in:
»Just before reaching the highlands, almost desperate now for a shower and a normal meal, I met a pair of Orang Aslee (name of a tribe), who looked like they just stepped out of a time machine. I was ahead of the others, so I was the first to see them. A man and a boy of ten or twelve, a father and son, I was sure.
They stood so still that I almost bumped into them, and my first reaction was fear. The man held a blowgun by his side, it was as long as he was tall, and I knew it was equipped with a poison-tipped dart. He held it casually, upright beside him. He wore only a loin cloth. The boy was completely naked. We gaped at each other, maybe just for a minute, but it seemed much longer.
The man looked strong and confident and proud, not the kind of proud that comes from collected accomplishments, but the kind that comes from being completely at home in the world. His smile was magnificent.
He seemed to revel in this unfathomable moment. There was nothing he needed to say or do. But the boy's expression and stance were even more remarkable. He regarded me with a face so open, so unclouded, that it seemed to lie outside the repertoire of the human. His eyes were a window between his body and the world outside him, uninterrupted by the opacity of Self.
Not an atom of self-consciousness, not a hint of anxiety, no shyness, no attempt to please. For days I tried to understand what I'd seen in this boy, and bit by bit it came to me. He knew himself instinctively, without a self-image to change or adjust, without norms or standards without which to evaluate himself. He felt exactly what it was like to be at home in himself. And for this I envied him enormously, because no matter how hard I tried, and despite my additional years, I couldn't find myself, couldn't know myself, not like that. All I could find was a collection of evaluations.
The boy stood completely still with his father's hand on his shoulder. There was no flinching away in anxiety, no concern that he would do the wrong thing and shatter the delicate father-son détente. No contracting in shame, because the father knew him, and accepted him completely. No concern about being too strong, because there was no way he would be taken as a challenge. No fear of being too weak, because his father, his family, and his tribe were there to protect him.
These were my conclusions, and maybe they were etched part way between rational conjecture, and wishful thinking. But beyond envy, the experience gave me a sense of optimism. Watching that almost man, standing on the path near his home, and reflecting later on what I had seen in his posture and his face, I was left feeling amazed and hopeful. It was possible to be wide open and unafraid in this world. At least it was possible.« — Marc Lewis
The last sentence is dynamite for me. »It was possible to be wide open and unafraid in this world. At least it was possible.«
It is possible for all of us to be ourselves so authentically and unapologetically that no energy is wasted on the upkeep of masks and roles and false selves. It is possible to let that all go, find rest, play and create like children do.
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What does Marc Lewis’ experience instill in you?
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