I’ve always been quite adventurous.
Since childhood, I often felt compelled to learn new skills and have new experiences.
These experiences gave me a variety of perspectives and insights.
Despite it all, I often felt blindsided by the challenges life threw my way.
In hindsight, when I was going through intense struggles, I often had trouble seeing the situation clearly.
Until someone else put words to what I could not comprehend on my own.
Only then did I start seeing things for what they were.
We often can’t see the full picture by ourselves.
Last week, I mentioned how discernment is slowly developed over time. You can read that article here.
On the way to discernment, there were many people who helped illuminate my way forward.
I couldn’t have done it alone.
And today’s Chinese expression teaches you exactly that: let others help you see.
不知庐山真面目 (bù zhī lú shān zhēn miàn mù)，
只原身在此山中 (zhǐ yuán shēn zài cǐ shān zhōng).
These are extracted from a timeless poem called《题西林壁》(tí xī lín bì), written during the Song dynasty about 940 years ago.
Fun fact, Chinese people still use ancient poems to express their feelings and describe modern day life.
The phrases literally mean: you can’t see the true shape of Mount Lu when you are standing within the mountain.
In other words, you are blind to the true nature of things when you are deeply involved in a situation.
A lack of clarity doesn’t mean you lack intelligence.
It often means a lack of distance between you and the situation at hand.
It is difficult to orient towards a sound decision when:
- Your emotions are running high
- Your ego identity is on the line
- Your old wounds are triggered
This is especially true with high stake decisions involving your relationship, finance, or close family members.
When shit hits the fan, your fight-or-flight system is not interested in slowing down to analyze all possible solutions.
You just want to get rid of the tension.
Tension tempts people into premature decision-making, which they later regret.
And people are especially vulnerable to poor decisions when they have nobody to turn to for solace and advice.
But more often than not, we are the ones who shut out the very help we need.
I wasn’t always comfortable asking for help.
Despite being well acquainted with the meaning of 不知庐山真面目, 只原身在此山中, I didn’t quite embody its lessons until recent years.
On one side of my family lineage, there is an intergenerational pattern of emotional numbing and shaming.
The pattern stemmed from the traumatic years of the Chinese Cultural Revolution, which I will eventually write about.
There was an unspoken expectation of:
- Dealing with your struggles alone
- Emotional suppression as a virtue
After moving to Canada, I noticed the West also tends to idealize individualism and self-sufficiency, sometimes to the extreme.
The cost of excessive self-reliance is disconnection from truth.
We are all interconnected. Period.
You rely on farmers for food.
Farmers rely on gas stations to transport food to you.
There is a reason why social isolation is associated with higher risk of mortality.
We don’t thrive in isolation.
Even the most independent among us need others at some point.
And asking for support is not inherently a sign of weakness.
It is an invitation.
You are inviting someone to participate in your life in a significant way.
You are granting someone the honor of being a source of influence for you.
Asking others for help shows how much you value their presence in your life.
This is a powerful way to deepen connections.
Hyper-independence is not a sign of strength.
I see it as an unresolved insecurity stemming from distrust in people and in life itself.
You are afraid of losing your center under someone else’s influence.
Especially if, in the past, you were led astray by people who tried to disempower you or use you for their selfish agenda.
I’ve been there, so I get it. The fear is real and should be acknowledged.
But eventually, I realized that it was never about whether I should ask for help.
It has always been about choosing the right people:
- Who should I take advice from?
- Who can be trusted with the sacred task of shaping my thoughts and direction?
- Who should be invited to take part in my life’s critical moments?
This is where discernment comes into play.
People are complex.
And I am by no means an expert at people-reading.
Nevertheless, I do believe that some of my hard-earned lessons might juuuuust help you see others a little differently. ;）
Let’s save those stories for next week, shall we?
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Until next time,
Love,
Crystal
