The Alchemy of Commitment
Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it...
Commitment
Through the various processes unleashed by my exposure to the alchemical arts of internal transformation, and with a large portion of trial and error, I have come to understand the basics of a very simple but highly elusive principle called commitment.
In its simplest essence it is this: try and try again, and do not give up but by all means adapt your strategy. Above all: show the universe you mean business by putting your money - and every other available type of energy - where your mouth is.
The principle is eloquently elaborated by mountaineer, WH Murray:
This may sound too simple but is great in consequence. Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favour all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way. I have learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets:
Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!
What Goethe summarizes in two lines and Murray explains more comprehensively has been proved to me time and time again: There is no substitute for genuine commitment and without it there can be no genuine, lasting result.
That is not to say I accept the premise that life will always provide exactly what we ask for. For me this is to trivialise the phenomenon. Rather, I believe it works something like this: as we mature, we slowly begin to understand that life does not provide everything we point to. Instead it very often provides something quite different but usually far more useful and conducive to development. However, the point is that until we commit by putting in some serious ground work - doing the necessary research out in the world as well as internal soul searching - there will be no result at all worth speaking of.
Two simple but directly relevant stories should suffice to illustrate the practice of the principle…
A Slow Summer in Sweden
On arriving in Sweden in 1995, I set about as quickly as possible making contacts and getting to know people who seemed established in some way and equipped to assist me. This, being Sweden and with summer approaching, turned out not to be quick at all but rather glacially slow and intensely frustrating.
Still, I arranged meetings with all manner of people vaguely, directly or indirectly associated with my line of work. I met people working within the mainstream and others working on the very fringes of health care and life practice. I wrote letters to heads of hospital departments, visited rehab clinics and prisons, made friends with Shiatsu and acupuncture therapists, did workshops in obscure venues and treatments on a private basis either in my home or the homes of others.
At the same time I enrolled in a state-provided Swedish language course. This turned out to be of a very high standard with friendly and engaged teachers, who helped me master basic Swedish. During this same period I started a Shiatsu school with two brand new colleagues and used my highly embarrassing Swedish, laced with atrocious Swinglish, to teach the students. There really is nothing like throwing yourself in at the deep end.
As the Swedish language course drew to a close and I came out with the highest possible marks, the next step had already been initiated: a visit to the local employment agency. To demonstrate my enthusiasm and competence I had drawn up a list of visits made and contacts forged, potential projects for collaboration and ideas for venturing out into the private health sector of Uppsala and Sweden.
The response: all very good, you seem to have this well under control and here is another Swedish language course we can offer you. I was deflated. I had imagined they would offer me a self-employment financial support package and some form of assistance with the various ideas I had outlined. Dejectedly, I turned up for the language course enrolment, performed the induction test and went home.
That evening I received a call from a completely unknown person. He said his name was Lars Massage, which almost threw me, but luckily he then proceeded to describe both his situation and invitation. He had taken over the lease of the alternative health care centre in town. With the lease had come a list of names of people who had asked to be given a room to practice and yes, my name was on that list. He asked me whether I would be interested in being his acupuncturist. Imagine my joy – here was an opening. Not only was this an opening, it turned out to be the opening.
He was looking for someone exactly like me. When we met the very next day at lunch, I told him all about the various skills I could offer and he responded by telling me what he could offer in return. He asked me how many days I wanted to rent. With a distinct feeling of stepping into the void, I told him I wanted three days – even though I had no patients to speak of and the rent was due on a monthly basis.
Well, the rent was not covered that first month but every month after that it was paid and with more and more left over to invest in building my fledgling company and boosting my feeble marketing strategy. With help from one or two key people (hi Nina!) I soon had a fairly full three days and was offering evening classes in all the subjects I could conceivably think of. I was up and running.
As I reflected on this process afterwards, I realised that the end result, although unpredictable, was nevertheless entirely within the foreseeable range of possible outcomes. What is important to underline however, is that nothing at all would have happened without the engine of commitment.
As I continued to ponder the ramifications of what had transpired, I was reminded of an earlier and perhaps even more striking example of how commitment can produce seemingly magical, definitely alchemical and sometimes outlandish results.
Christmas in England
The year was 1987. I had returned to London, England from an exciting and transformative trip around Asia, starting in India, circling through Nepal, Tibet and Pakistan before finally making it all the way to Japan and ending with a short stay in Thailand. Most of this was done via busses and trains, some of it by truck bed and tractor, a portion of it on foot. On the way I had met incredible people from all walks of life, rarely experiencing a day that did not bring with it some kind of meaningful exchange either with locals or with fellow travellers. I had even discovered Taiji and Qigong and faithfully continued practising these arts on a daily basis.
Back in the UK, I found myself at a very loose end indeed. Everything seemed grey, mundane and tedious. Friends had either moved on or settled down into routines that at best did not inspire and at worst conformed to our past standards of sell out and soul suicide. Since I had decided not to pursue my law studies after gaining my university degree and having no other qualifications, I was out of work with no immediate prospects. Even more importantly, I had no desire to seek employment of a conventional kind, especially having witnessed its effects on my friends.
Boredom and inertia came daily to my door, threatening to plunge me into numbness and despair. On a day of sheer desperation, I left the flat determined to make something – anything – happen. This decision, fuelled by rock bottom tedium, set into motion a train of coincidences, which swiftly led me to not one but two flyers on two separate notice boards.
Through these old fashioned but effective media, Ray Wilkie, a seasoned Taiji teacher entered my life. Fifteen minutes prior to this pivotal encounter and via a siting from the top deck of a red London bus, a Shiatsu teacher had spoken to me of possibilities and potential. His name was Nigel Dawes and the brief description of his life, experience and outlook, pinned to the notice board inside the South London Natural Health Clinic, reverberated strongly within me.
I took down Nigel’s number, called it immediately on arriving home and spoke to his friendly sounding answer machine. Encouraged by his amicable tone, I specifically asked whether a discount would be possible for his upcoming Shiatsu foundation course. I had very limited financial resources at the time, living as I was on unemployment benefit and the generosity of Lee, my best friend, erstwhile travelling companion and current flat mate. I had in my bank account precisely the amount needed to buy a one-way ticket back to Asia – my exit plan.
That evening a call came for me – a fairly unusual occurrence in itself at the time. As I took the phone and responded, that same friendly voice announced the presence of Nigel Dawes, Shiatsu teacher and founder of the London College of Shiatsu and Massage.
In answer to the enquiry I had left on his machine concerning possible discounts, Nigel calmly stated that it was a policy of the College not to offer discounts under any circumstances. My heart deflated - enrolling myself in the foundation course offered at his school would precisely empty my savings account.
You see my dilemma.
Then Nigel said something very intriguing. It went like this: I understand your situation, but here’s the thing: if you step up and commit the money you have, you will receive help. (Inwardly, I was thinking: “I’m listening…”) He continued: If you put your money on the table, all kinds of things will come crawling out of the woodwork (his exact phrase) to help you.
My initial reaction was one of elation. My second, following swiftly on the heels of the first, was deeply cynical: “easy for him to say - this is my money we’re talking about”. I thanked him for his kind words of wisdom, said goodbye, replaced the receiver and sat on the stairs ruminating.
I decided to investigate some of the other Shiatsu schools in London. Their courses were all priced at around the same level. However, there were indications that one could get a reduction in return for work done in exchange – an appealing idea. Still, the vibe I received from the other schools was not even close to the one I had received from Nigel. All the way from the flyer on the board, through his answer machine message to the pep talk he gave me, the energy seemed just perfect and tailor made for me. What was I to do?
Well, what I did was dither. I drifted lamely to and fro, listing pros and cons, time and again returning to the quandary without a solution, until one fine day I said (probably out loud) “Oh, what the hell! I’ll just pay.” I sent in the money for the course, received a welcoming letter with the dates for early February the coming year and resumed my daily task of seeking solace and meaning in 20th century urban London.
As part of that quest, I had come into contact with a highly eccentric meditation and prayer group operating out of premises near Camden High Street in North-central London. I even took Lee down there for a meeting but the results were somewhat less encouraging than I’d hoped for – he literally burst out laughing in the middle of the intense, sung-chanted meditation finale. All very embarrassing, to be honest.
However, I was not discouraged - all was not bleak and dismal in my quest for fulfillment. Not only had I enrolled in a Shiatsu foundation course, rendering me wholly bankrupt but quizzically elated, I had also started classes with Ray, my new Taiji teacher. As this unexpected wave of good fortune crested, another happy coincidence rolled my way.
Imagine my surprise and delight when one of the saner members of the Camden meditation group put me in contact with a friend of his who taught Shiatsu. Not only did she teach Shiatsu, she taught at an adult education centre especially for people on low-income. Moreover, the course was due to start very soon and at a very reasonable price indeed thank you very much. It seemed too good to be true and although I was already set to begin with Nigel, I had learned on my travels never to look a gift horse in the mouth. Being unemployed, I could easily afford the time and being a maverick by nature I looked forward to the mixture of influences two teachers would provide. Financially, I reasoned that where there was a will there had to be a way.
Thus it was that in late January I enrolled in Liz Arundel’s Shiatsu foundation course and continued to attend parallel with Nigel Dawes’ foundation course in Zen Shiatsu, which started as planned in early February. Later I went on take both of their continuation courses and thoroughly enjoyed being exposed to two very contrasting styles and personalities. Combining what I fondly imagined to be the best of both approaches, I was soon delivering treatments of surprising dexterity and effectiveness.
Reward enough for my commitment, you might think.
Certainly. However, the story has one more delightful twist. Here we need to rewind back to December…
Before either of these courses were due to start, Christmas rolled around. Not being a fan of this modern hijacking of the ancient festival for midwinter solstice, I grimly prepared to join in with my family’s celebrations for the first time in three years. To my great surprise, it was not as bad as I’d expected and even quite fun once I entered into the spirit of it. My young nieces almost drowned in wrapping paper, while more modest gifts were distributed to the remaining fifteen to twenty family members gathered around the sparkling tree.
As my mother and sisters drifted off on a delicate mist of inexpensive champagne to continue preparing the massively proportioned Christmas meal, my brother stood and, elegantly raising an arm towards the uppermost branches of the tree, announced that there was one more present still to be given. He lightly grasped a plain white envelope and - barely suppressing a smile - handed it to me. Surprised (“gob-smacked” is the technical term), I inspected the contents of said envelope to find a neat stash of bank notes. Inspecting the details of said stash, I noted that the amount almost precisely coincided with the amount I had paid Nigel for the Shiatsu foundation course.
Open mouthed, I stared at my elder brother, a soul of gentle kindness, firm mettle and wry humour. Unable as I was to even articulate a question, he stepped into the gap and informed me that this was payment for the electric guitar I had given him three years previously…
Things really do crawl out of the woodwork.
Transmitting the Energy of Commitment
Since these two occurrences and many more besides, I have been able to fairly simply and quite frequently transmit the essence of commitment and its energy to patients, students and random passers-by on my subsequent journey. I have witnessed, on countless occasions, how the jewel, once in place, works its magic – not always in predictable ways; far from it - but invariably in a way that moves the participant forward into a new space, offering previously unimagined possibilities.
I have also witnessed the exact opposite, and on at least as many occasions. I have seen how students who do not commit to their practice fail to finish the course, how fledgling therapists, failing to make a clear enough commitment to their chosen profession, also fail to attract clients and how patients not ready to commit to a process quit treatments at the first obstacle and return to wandering the paths of ill health.
This is not offered in any sense as a judgment. I know just how difficult commitment can be and have surely failed many times to demonstrate real proof of commitment in various life situations. However, I have also seen how my path has not only been cleared but facilitated and illuminated when I put myself wholly into a process – body and soul as they say, but also wallet and bank account.
And time.