“I am one of you," or why do we find it so hard to admit that we belong somewhere?

Feb 06, 2024

Years ago, at the first session of a two-year course, thirty of us stood in the middle of a high ceilinged, classically styled room. We knew that we would meet each other from time to time over the next two years and that during these meetings, we would learn things about each other, about each other's families, that go far beyond any information one would typically share with strangers they had only met a few times in their life. Indeed, over the next two years, we really did learn incredible things about each other. There were shared tears, huge shocks, pain that caused such despair in one of us that the thick walls of the building seemed to tremble. We saw each other cry, laugh through tears, sigh deeply, curse ugly, scream. We saw each other in many ways, and we all vowed to keep each other's secrets, to keep this sensitive information within the circle. Over the two years, some friendships formed that either lasted or did not, and of course, there were one or two people in all of our cases whom we would have preferred to avoid even during those two years. This is natural, after all, who could guarantee that out of thirty people, everyone would be likable to everyone else?

Looking back on those two years, most of my memories are positive. The wisdom, humility, and knowledge of one of our teachers had a great impact on me. The way she was able to approach spiritual work with humility each time, despite her otherwise quite diverse knowledge, how she supported our fledgling efforts, how she respectfully but firmly guided us when the group seemed to be falling apart, was impressive to me. Her every move, every word radiated respect towards us, yet she never placed herself in a subordinate position. She treated us confidently as equals, who are here now precisely to learn what she knows.

To this day, I have not met anyone who could cooperate with others as equals with such stability, enduringly, and confidence. In any team or group I've been part of, sooner or later, someone was excluded, someone – often forcefully – took the lead, someone tried to present themselves as smarter than the rest, someone withdrew... so there was never balance. However, when this teacher conducted the practice, somehow everyone felt that they mattered, that they were a part of the group, that they had a place among us. This feeling of safely belonging somewhere had just as much impact on me and, I think, many of us, as the knowledge we learned.

When we stood there, thirty of us in a circle in the middle of the room, still unknown and distrustful, as is usual in such a situation, our teacher asked us to say out loud one after the other, "I am one of you." I remember that we were all a bit startled by this. I still often smile at myself and my ego when I think of this story. The whole world constantly suggests that every person is special, which is true, but our egos like to twist this into "I am special and better than others." And it is precisely this attitude that prevents equal, mutually respectful cooperation.

The reason why a person likes to think they are better, different than others can have a thousand and one reasons, but the reasons are most often found in childhood injuries. Until we address these issues, we easily fall into the trap of our spiritual ego, believing its assertions that we are more advanced, more conscious, and wiser than others. This belief can quickly lead to a conviction of our own greatness and wisdom, halting our development (since we perceive ourselves as already superior) and, instead of identifying and healing the injury that makes this self-deception so appealing, we place ourselves on a pedestal and look down on others.

Those children who never felt good enough, smart enough, beautiful enough, skilled enough, easily fall into this trap, as do those who are not struggling with a lack of recognition and acceptance but were victims of some abuse in their childhood. They must be better than everyone else in every situation, otherwise, the fear that they will be hurt again bursts forth.

Of course, those who strive to develop themselves, process the traumas accumulated in their subconscious, heal their wounds, and generally become better, more mature, and wiser people often are indeed more mature and wiser than others. The problem begins when, noticing this difference, they do not feel respect for the individual fates and paths of others, but judgment. As soon as we judge, as soon as we establish hierarchical relationships in our minds, we've fallen into the trap of our ego. In such moments, it's better to step back and remain silent. When we find ourselves talking much more than listening, it's a sign we're on the wrong path.

This is why it had such a profound impact on me when our teacher asked us to utter the magic words. Because it made us equals. Suddenly, no matter where we were in life compared to each other, how many children we had, or how big our house was, whether we were married or not, whether we had a university degree or just finished elementary school, whether we had completed a thousand self-awareness courses or none at all, whether we were young or older, we were equals. Human beings, always trying to offer the best, even if in some situations the best we can give is not enough, even if we fail. We were equals, and by saying, "I am one of you," we gave respect to each other and expressed our intention to belong to that community. By expressing this intention, we implicitly stated that we value this community, because otherwise, why would we want to belong to it? And we value and respect the members of this community as well.

It's a magical sentence, and to this day, I get chills when I think back to the moment I heard my own voice saying those words. It was a huge and perfect lesson that arrived just at the right time for me, for which I am still grateful. Of course, I am grateful for the knowledge gained, but even more for the respectable, humble, wise human example I was able to experience and learn from over those two years. I hope that one day I will live up to the role model I was fortunate enough to experience!

– Eszter

Eszter’s Weekly Elephant

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