The ability to distinguish and discern between things is a critical skill, one which we learn early in life to provide us with a level of safety in this physical world. This rational judgment, while increasing our chances for survival, can also diminish our understanding of life by unknowingly becoming the basis for our moral judgment.
We quickly learn through our own experience (or the experience of others) not to touch a hot burner on the stove. Hot isn’t good for us, but room temperature is fine. We learn that sharp things can cut us, but dull things usually don’t. We learn that some people will be helpful to us, and others may hurt us. We learn that some objects are hard and could cause us damage, and that others are soft and should be fine. We learn that some plants are OK to touch, but others (like poison ivy) are not.
But not all things can be, or should be, placed into a “good” versus “bad” system. There is a danger when our well-trained, rational judgment mind encounters new things or situations, and we quickly try to make sense of them in some way. Our “depth of focus” at this point is working very much like a pre-digital camera, with the ability to see things only within a certain focal range. Things outside of this depth of focus are unclear and uncertain, so in our natural inclination to make sense of them we decide whether they’re good or bad.
Maybe the way we classify things comes from society, or its been shaped by parents, friends or other people we admire. To conform to our adopted standards, we might start to use rational judgments to make moral judgments about being wealthy versus being poor; being powerful versus being helpless; being white versus being black; being male versus being female; being young versus being old; being heterosexual versus being homosexual; being tall versus being short; being smart versus being challenged. When we misapply our rational judgment, we begin to create illusions in our minds, and these illusions feed prejudices, and these prejudices grow into fear, which degenerates into hatred.
Consider an artist’s canvas propped up on an easel. On this white background the artist places two dots next to each other, one red and one green. From a normal vantage point we can see that there are two dots of different shades. We have used our rational judgment to distinguish the difference between them. The red color may indicate danger to us, such as the red in a traffic light, or because it’s the color of blood. But red is also the color of roses and romantic hearts. The green color may initially represent something good, like the green in a traffic light; green means it’s time to move ahead. Green is the color of life, as most plants are green. But green is also the color of infection and rot.
However we interpret these colors, our discernment and judgment are hard at work. What started out as an important ability to discern between things is now robbing us of truth, and that diminishes life’s richness. It’s a tough cycle to break, but if we don’t try, we become imprisoned by our own mind.
Our challenge is to change (or expand) our depth of focus to begin to see in new ways. Doing so will destroy illusions we have and help us to expand our understanding. Without compromising our ability to distinguish and discern, we simply add another dimension to our perception. When we begin to look at the red and green dots on the artist’s canvas in a broader depth of field, we begin to see not only their differences, but also how they are really very much alike. Without destroying their uniqueness, we can also begin to appreciate their similarities, and this leads to new opportunities in relationships and interaction.
Stepping back from the artist’s canvas, the red and green dots begin to merge into something new. Maybe we begin to see them as a new color or a new shape. We’re expanding our depth of focus, allowing ourselves to see things in new ways. By pulling back a little we become willing to consider the possibility that what appeared to be differences is no longer true.
The same type of thing happens if we adjust our depth of focus the other way. Instead of moving further away from the artist’s canvas, we move closer – much closer. Suppose we were so close to the two dots on the canvas that we had to use a powerful microscope. The closer we go to the dots, even approaching the molecular level, we begin to lose the distinct colors each dot has, and we begin to see some similarities. We find that each color is made of molecules and atoms, each with combinations of spinning electrons around a nucleus of protons and neutrons. The atoms in each dot actually behave in similar ways, and it becomes difficult to distinguish between the two dots as we could before. We discover common design and similar laws governing their actions. Once again, it shows us a paradox. With our expanded depth of focus, we can say with equal validity that on the one hand the two dots are indeed different, but on the other hand they are the same. Both are true!
So, what can we take away from this to use on our spiritual journey? First, be aware of when we might be using the ability to discern and distinguish beyond its intended use as rational judgment, when it starts to be used for moral or ethical judgment. If we find that we harbor any fears, hatred, or disagreements about things, trace these back to their origins, back through possible prejudices or illusions that we may have, all the way back to a limited depth of focus. Then, step back from this, or examine it more closely, expanding our depth of focus either way, looking for acceptance that what we originally thought was a conflict is actually a paradox. Ask yourself, "Are the differences I'm seeing really true? Really?" Differences begin to reveal connections, new insights bring new understanding, and new opportunities may appear.
