PART #1: The Perception

I am sitting in the amphitheater watching hundreds of people returning from the Reception Line, Maharaji's favorite music playing in the background.

On the large screen is an endless stream of photos of happy people, smiling, laughing, or just being totally focused. The line keeps moving, each person a universe folded into itself.

Everyone is radiant, self-contained, walking more slowly than usual.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see a woman, on the line, dancing. She, too, has just returned from seeing Maharaji. The only thing different is SHE IS DANCING -- the most beautiful dance I think I've ever seen -- a dance of uncontainable joy.

The security guy takes note and, mindful of his duty, starts to approach her from behind as she dances by.

She cannot see him, bouncing and bounding from one step to the other, arms to the sky in perfect sync with her invisible dance partner.

Those of us in the audience are watching this little scene unfold, silently rooting for the dutiful security guy to keep his distance and let her keep dancing up the aisle.

He seems concerned, like there is something he is supposed to DO, but the closer he gets to her, the more it seems like there is some kind of invisible force field around her, protecting the dancing from any kind of disturbance.

Her dancing trumps his security and, as the song she is dancing to ends, she keeps dancing up the aisle, eyes on fire -- the rest of us madly clapping -- for her, for the dance, and the extraordinary perfection of this little moment in time.

PART #2: The Reality

A few days after I posted the above story on Facebook, I received the following comment from Michael Nelthorpe -- the "Security Guy."

"Nice story Mitch. I was the guy. Not quite the way you saw it.

I slipped in behind her so no one stopped her dancing or interrupted her 'space'.

Times change, Mitch. We treat EVERYONE as his guest no matter what."

PART #3: The Resolution

What did I learn from this little episode? A lot.

To begin with, what I think is happening and what is actually happening are sometimes two very different things.

It was easy for me to conclude that the "security guy" was doing the traditional "security thing", when, in fact, what was really happening was quite the opposite. He was not attempting to interfere with the beautiful dance going on. He was trying to protect it!

He was protecting. I was projecting.

Why did I assume what I assumed? Because I had an outdated concept of "Event Security". So outdated, in fact, that I did not even know that "Security" wasn't called "Security" anymore -- but "Safety".

You might quibble that this is semantics, but from what I can tell, it's far more than that, as evidenced by Michael Nelthorpe's crystal clear feedback to me -- given, by the way, with elegance, feeling, and the spirit of "we're all in this together" -- which, I now understand is what his commitment was to the dancing lady.

As a writer (or human being... or man... or Virgo... or baby boomer.. or whatever), it's easy to default to habitual ways of looking at things, based on my past experiences and assumptions.

The fact of the matter, is, however, that every moment is a new one. If we really want to appreciate what's going on, we have to let go of old ways of seeing.

It's a bit like the classic story of the five blind men trying to figure out what an elephant looked like. Each of them were touching a different part of the elephant and they each concluded something different, based on what part they were touching.

The guy who was touching the tail got a very different impression of the elephant than the guy who was touching the trunk... or the leg.

This seems to be our challenge. Each of us are looking through our own lens, trying to make sense of things. Then, based on our limited perceptions, we proceed to proclaim to the world what we see -- as if what we see was the only reality.

"When a pickpocket meets a saint, all he sees are pockets," goes the old adage.

I saw the "dancing lady" and the "security guy" and made my own poetic leap to a false conclusion, then proceeded to write about it and get a whole bunch of confirmations -- 68 Facebook LIKES.

Yes, I know the essence of what I was writing about was real and that, indeed, similar scenarios play out, in many ways, every day of our lives.

But the FACT is: my conclusion at the Amaroo amphitheater was faulty.

This was a great lesson for me.

It gave me (and gives me) pause. I am more conscious now of not jumping to conclusions... of allowing more space and time before I proclaim anything to be true.

I am also newly committed to entertaining diverse inputs (second opinions and reality checks) before I go dancing off to the races.

What conclusion have you come up with lately that might be bogus? What assumption have you made -- about someone or something -- that might be completely unreal?

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