The gift of accepting your own reality

 

An absolute point to ponder when it comes to reality is perception. Our entire civilization is based on perception. The things we have learned to appreciate and those we have learned to look down on, the products and people we respect by virtue of their position, and those we reject because they behave or think differently; the brands we pay large sums of money for, and those we would rather leave untouched: most of it is based on perception. The value of precious gems and minerals is based on perception. Economic models, “real” versus “fake” art, fashion trends and value definitions: they are all based on perception.

Most things are seen in their current way because someone once defined how they should be looked at. The majority of people don’t think further whether they really feel that these things are worth what the status quo dictates. What makes a Van Gogh or Da Vinci so much more expensive than a perfect replica or a beautiful painting from an unknown artist? It’s perception. And it costs us a lot. People want to be seen with expensive purses, clothes, and shoes; they want to drive in expensive cars, and live in “upscale” neighborhoods, not necessarily because they are better, but because they are perceived to be. It takes courage to realize that, and even more courage to contemplate on it and draw your own conclusions.

Very few people dare to be bold enough to swim against the current, because that would mean that they are “different”, and “different” is a vulnerable spot to be in. Being different affects our sense of belonging, and if you remember, “sense of belonging” has a prominent place in Maslow’s hierarchy of needs! People want to be accepted by their surroundings, and being different means rising above that urge and facing your own values. Mama Cass sings about the difficulty of being different in the title song of an odd, old children’s movie named “Pufnstuf”(1970):

“Different is hard, different is lonely

Different means trouble for you only

Different is heartache, different is pain

But I’d rather be different than be the same…”

 

If you don’t have the courage to think for yourself about what really matters to you, what you can or want to afford, what drives your passion, and what you are happy with, you will be like 98% of humanity: victimized by mindsets that were dictated by others, oftentimes for their own selfish reasons, which are to become wealthy and famous at the expense of the ignorant ones. Of course, not all name brands, high end products, or prominent lifestyles are deceptive. Some really go out of their way to deliver better quality and represent a different experience. Still, they are often grossly overrated.

Creating your own reality does not mean that you can change all the things that happen to you. You may not be able to change those, but you can always change your perception, hence, your attitude. Sitting back and allowing yourself to be overrun by the status quo, or paralyzed by bad news or setbacks is not going to get you far.

The gift of deciding what matters to us

I just finished reading a book that I had picked up at a recent conference. It is titled "I moved your cheese" and is written as a critical parody on the 1998 bestseller: "Who moved my cheese." Over the years, I have frequently mentioned that old bestseller in my presentations, lectures, and writings, because the message it provides is -in itself- strong enough: two mice and two little people who live in a maze and daily meet each other in cheese station C, where they obtain their cheese. On a bad day, however, the cheese has disappeared, and everybody is in disarray. Yet, the two mice don’t waste too much time: they quickly put on their running shoes, and set off into the maze in order to find new cheese.

The two little people do what most people do: for a few weeks they grumble about the injustice done to them, but in the end one of them suggests that they follow the example of the mice and also start looking for a new cheese source. The other doesn’t want to hear about this, because he feels that his rights have been violated, so he prefers to sit and wait until the cheese supply in station C is restored.

The little person that takes off to look for new cheese learns many lessons on his way to the uncertain future, but eventually discovers a new, bigger cheese station, where, lo and behold, he gets reunited with the two mice, who have settled in, but nevertheless keep their running shoes hanging around their necks in case of a new crisis.

Moral of the story: changes are continuous and unpredictable, and flexibility is the best way to respond to it.

In "I Moved Your Cheese" the author firmly criticizes the above story. While he agrees that life is full of surprises and that we must be flexible, he also feels that we shouldn’t take everything as a given, but should think critically about our situation and the changes we face. He comments that the first book fails to address the issue of who has actually moved the cheese.  Thus, he feels that the figures in that story promote a victimized mentality: someone took the cheese out of our mouth, and now we just look for other cheese -- no questions asked. The writer underscores that if we think this way, we will always remain the victims of "others".

In “I moved your cheese” the author introduces three mice, Max, Zed and Big, each of whom is exceptional in his own way. Max is incurably inquisitive and wants to know the "how" and "why" of everything. This is how he ultimately discovers that there is a world outside the maze, where people decide where the cheese gets moved to, so they can study the reactions of the mice. Once aware of this, Max begins to manipulate the logbooks of the people when they are asleep, and realizes that he now has the power to determine where the cheese will be placed on a daily basis.

Zed lives in the maze like all the other mice, but doesn’t care much about cheese. He eats just enough to stay afloat, and doesn’t allow his happiness to depend on abundance or scarcity of cheese. The other mice don’t understand him, because he is so stoic and detached in a way. When Max tells Zed about the world outside the maze and all the manipulations that go on with the cheese, Zed wisely responds: "the problem is not that the mouse in the maze, but that the maze in the mouse is: we all determine for ourselves what our shortcomings are".

Big, finally, becomes disturbed by the growing masses of mice around him and actively starts looking for a way out. Strong and athletic as he is, he begins to test the walls of the maze. One day he gathers all his physical and mental strength and runs straight through the thinnest wall, leaving a big hole in the maze for whoever wants to follow him, but determined for himself to never return to that restrictive maze.

Of course it depends on each of us to decide who we want to identify with: the mice of the second book, the mice and little people of the first book, or our own unique self, flexible and quick, but at the same time creative and critically thinking about what, in this life, is most important for us.