Words of Inspiration
Calm yourself, then help others

June 24, 2004

BILL ZIMMERMAN
EDITOR, Laura Simms

Storyteller Laura Simms weaves a tale of pride to illustrate how a silly dispute can lead to a duel of death

"Student Briefing" asks successful people to advise our readers on how to live through troubled times. Today's essayist is Laura Simms, one of the nation's leading storytellers. She travels the world, sharing with people ancient stories learned from different cultures. Her storytelling has helped bridge differences between students divided by racial and cultural strife.

DEAR FRIENDS,

As I read newspapers, talk to friends, and see the TV screen, I feel very sad. Terrible images and talk of threats and fear bring to mind the question: "What can I do in my own life to feel better and to help stop the violence that is happening?"

A folktale from Afghanistan comes to mind. It's about two men who were best friends. One was a merchant, the other a shopkeeper.

One day the merchant, returning from an extended journey, met his friend in the market. The shopkeeper had grown a long, thick moustache. The merchant instantly grew jealous, "How dare you wear such a moustache! You must think you are braver and more important than I am!" The proud shopkeeper, twirling the moustache so it appeared longer, answered, "I am braver and more important than you are!"

The two friends argued. Soon each was furious with the other, proclaiming their courage and great virtue.

The shopkeeper announced that his moustache was proof of his superior place in the world.

The merchant proclaimed, "We should duel in the morning to decide who is stronger. Whoever succeeds in killing the other is the victor!" His friend agreed. "We will meet at sunrise, swords in hand, and battle to the end."

Then the shopkeeper added, "Since one of us will be defeated, we must take care of our wives and children. It is best to send them to the mountains to live." The two men went home.

The merchant arrived and told his wife he was going to battle the next day. He ordered her to prepare to depart. "Better to struggle in caves and forests, than to live without me. I am sure I will win and find you afterward. It is just a precaution." As foolish as her husband, the wife accepted her fate. The weeping children rushed to say goodbye to friends and pack their few belongings.

When the shopkeeper arrived home, his wife greeted him at the door. She urged him to have a cup of tea, "Then you can explain what has upset you." As the shopkeeper sipped his tea, his heartbeat slowed. He began to think about the upcoming battle. He realized he and his friend were about to fight over nothing more than their own pride. The more he thought about it, the sillier it seemed. He decided to remove the cause of the conflict. He went outside to shave the moustache and went to see his friend.

Alone, increasingly excited, the merchant sharpened and polished his sword. He went to the door shouting, "I am ready to fight immediately."

The shopkeeper spoke softly, "My friend, we have lost our minds. There is no reason for battle. I have shaved my moustache."

Slowly, the merchant came back to his senses. He had almost lost what he valued most: his family, even his own life, and his best friend. "Thank you," he said humbly and rushed out to find his wife. That night the shopkeeper enjoyed a feast. He and his family celebrated the greatest victory: victory over our own reactions and foolishness.

We are all like the merchant and the shopkeeper, capable of rushing into battles large or small for hardly any reason. Reacting to fear, insult, insecurity and anger with aggression, we cause violence and suffering to ourselves and others. In these times, when we are confronted by fear and encounter endless images of violence, revenge and abuse in our lives and on the news, we also have an opportunity to become genuine heroes and heroines of our own life stories. We can practice feeling even overwhelming emotions and opinions without needing to react, escape or get even.

My adopted son was born in West Africa. When he was 10 there was a civil war. He was left alone without care, food, school or safety. At 11, he was forced to become a soldier. He was told he could avenge the death of his parents.

I met him when he was 15. He had escaped the army and found his sanity again. He said, "I realize now that revenge only produces revenge. There is no end to revenge. We must simply stop."

During the war in Sierra Leone I spoke to my son every Friday morning. While waiting for permission for him to come to this country, I could not immediately change his life in Africa or slip him through the phone wire as I liked to imagine. But I could offer some relief from excruciating bouts of fear and hopelessness, and the hurtling energy of frustration that re-instigated his earlier trauma.

I suggested he try to distinguish between when he was caught up in stories about frustration, panic and fear, and when he felt alert, regardless of feeling or circumstance. By sitting down at the moment the fear began, and becoming familiar with the details of where he was at the moment, he was able to place his attention on his feet and hands, back and belly. Just like the shopkeeper as he sits with his tea, my son discovered that what he was feeling could be experienced and tolerated. He was able to calm himself and be of help to others.

There are so many ways in our everyday lives in which we can be drawn out of a sense of wakeful balance and become victims of our impulses. In that moment we have no power. We become like the two friends who propose to battle over the length of a moustache. The awareness that lets us rest our minds before acting out of fear is the same awareness that produces the joy of creative problem-solving and generosity that brings peace in adverse circumstances.

Yours, Laura Simms