Channel Markers

I spent my summers at the head of a bay and learned, sometimes through error, the importance of channel markers. Green on one side, red on the other, they help boaters navigate through narrow passages where shallow water awaits on either side. Until recently, I thought of the two markers as separate or distinct, but know now they’re connected by the sandy, shallow floor on which they rest.

What taught me this insight was not a return to the bay, nor a swim beneath the surface, but an unrelated book about addiction called: Willpower is Not Enough. It makes the point, among others, that the addiction that leads one into recovery is no different than a stoic, determined exercise of willpower. The two are the same disease; they’re both compulsions. Although on the surface the two look completely different, they rest on the same floor of self-determination and control. Healthy recover is found in the deep waters between the two, where one surrenders and dies, as much as possible, to compulsive, self-determination.

The same analogy works for our egos. I once thought an unhealthy ego was standing on a pedestal for all to see awaiting thunderous applause, but there’s a connected form which looks different on the surface. Sitting away from all pedestals, with head down and heart full of unworthiness, can iillustrate just as much ego as those standing tall. Both are forms extreme self-obsession, and a person will run aground on either side.  The safe passage is found in between the connected extremes, and finding the deep water of humility between them can transform one’s journey.

There are other connected channel markers . . . the person determined to have people around her at all times is connected to the one refusing to leave home . . . the athlete obsessed with record-setting performances is connected to the one who refuses to get on the field . . . the philanthopist determined to put his name on buildings and displayed prominently on letterheads is connected to the one who leaves charitable giving to others. On the surface, all of these appear as opposites, but beneath the surface they are two extreme manifestations of the same fear. 

Richard Rohr, one of my favorite writers, always cautions against dualistic thinking. Either-or thinking thwarts all theological, social and political growth. To identify extremes is the first step of healthy navigation, but understanding their connection is the second and can help lead us to deeper waters. It is in those waters that we are able to find what our minister, Sid Batts, calls “the radical center.” Whether sailing on a bay or walking through a day, such navigational wisdom can lead to safer, more meaningful journeys.