I Don't Play Hurt
by Alan Cohen
People often ask me who my gurus are. Years ago I would rattle off the names
of various well-known sages whose names ended with "-ananda" (many of
them Jewish fellows who traded "Goldstein" for a swami name.) And
indeed there are many wonderful such teachers.
More recently I have been impressed by ordinary people who don't talk much
about spiritual matters; they just live it. After hearing and talking about
unconditional love for many years, I find it quite refreshing to see it in
action with no hype or flourishes. These hidden gurus masquerade as hotel
cleaning ladies, shoe shiners, or rental car shuttle bus drivers. They look like
regular people, and they are -- except they are extraordinarily shiny and they
embody a simple earthy wisdom that stops me in my tracks.
My most recent encounter with a saint-in-drag was with a limo driver who
picked me up at the Los Angeles Airport. Terry was a tall, husky
African-American man who could have just as easily worked as a bouncer. His hair
was buzzed almost to his scalp, his neck the width of a mortal man's thigh,
and he did not smile much. He arrived at baggage claim about 20 minutes late,
but I was not about to get in his face.
Terry apologized for being late, explaining that he had had a minor fender
bender in the airport parking lot; a young lady who had just gotten her driver's
license that day, tapped his car in the rear end. Although there was no damage,
they had exchanged paperwork.
Along the route I overheard Terry reporting his mishap to his dispatcher over
the 2-way radio. "Was there any damage to the car?" asked the
dispatcher.
"None," Terry answered curtly.
"Did you get hurt?" was the next question.
"Not really."
"How's your neck feel?"
"Feels alright."
Short silence. Dispatcher returns: "You know, there could be some cash
in this for you."
Although I felt a bit disgusted to hear this, I was not surprised; lots of
people think like this. But Terry's response did surprise me. In a very
authoritative manner, he answered, "I don't play hurt."
I don't play hurt. Now there's an affirmation to file in a
conspicuous place. I don't play hurt. My God, that's exactly what I've
been learning for 30 years! (And how many lifetimes?) Don't play small. Don't
assume a victim position. Don't seek rewards for pain. Be magnificent. Be
self-empowered. Be whole. Play grand, for that's who you -- all of us -- truly
are.
Why, if we are all so grand, would people want to play small? Because they
believe that the rewards for pain outweigh what they would be receiving if they
were well and whole. Let's consider some of the rewards we might garnish for
being hurt: money; gifts; attention; sympathy; control over others; getting out
of work; escaping relationships with unresolved issues; avoiding undesired sex;
postponing decision making; being right; an identity; acceptance in a group
which glorifies similar pain; and on and on.
Now let's consider the benefits of not playing hurt: integrity; honesty;
health; prosperity; success; rewarding relationships; self-empowerment; and
peace of mind. The entire list of worldly rewards for playing small doesn't
add up in value to even one of the benefits of practicing wholeness. The rewards
for victimhood are not satisfying at all; they only drive pain, separateness,
and illusion deeper. The benefits of living large are empowering and go on
gathering good.
Consider the scenario of a man walking down a street when a flowerpot falls
off a windowsill above him and crashes at his feet, narrowly missing hitting
him. There are several paths of response the fellow could take: (1) Victim:
he slips into feeling vulnerable, goes home, feels sorry for himself, and sends
away for self-protection equipment; (2) Retaliator: he dashes up to the
apartment from which the flower pot fell and punches out the owner; (3) Stoic:
he reasons that it was simply his karma for the flower pot to miss him and he
keeps walking; and (4) Healer: he goes to the florist on the
corner, purchases another flower, finds the apartment from which the pot fell,
and gives it to the owner to replace the one he accidentally lost.
Obviously, the path of the healer is the most empowering and regenerative.
The healer "don't play hurt." We have all felt hurt. We don't have
to stay hurt. It takes a big person to grow beyond the seeming rewards for
smallness. Terry knows. He was bumped unexpectedly, but he would rather get on
with the fun portion of the ride.
 About The Author
Alan
Cohen is the author of numerous popular inspirational books, including the
award-winning A
Deep Breath of Life. To request a free catalog of Alan's books,
tapes, and seminars, call 1-800-462-3013 or visit Alan's web site at www.alancohen.com.
For info on upcoming events, contact 455A Kukuna Road, Haiku, HI 96708,
(800) 568-3079, email:
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