One Letter Can Change Everything;
One letter can change everything in the meaning of the word.
There’s a story about a monk who travels deep into the caves in search of the ancient scrolls. When he’s gone for many hours, another monk goes in search of him. The monk finds the elder on his knees, weeping inconsolably, rocking back and forth saying: “The word is CE-LE-BRATE.”
Head back with me for a minute to another story: I am 30 years old, living in Philadelphia, burned out from my job as a psychiatric social worker working in a psychiatric hospital. The work had made me well, deeply depressed. I just wasn't good with all the rules. What I wanted was freedom.
But what I also wanted was a little magic, a little esoteric spiritual something. You see, my word was celebrate too.
My yoga teacher Michelle had been telling me bout a progressive retreat center in upstate New York where she went for yoga and dance workshops. What’s that you say; yoga and dance… with classes in Eastern Philosophy, Medicine, Psychology, Health. With access to classes with folks like Ram Dass, Eckhardt Tolle, Deepak Chopra? Yes please! The only catch: It was pricey. She told me about a live-work program. Kinda like a monk but…without meditating at 5am. I called and they had only one position available; toilet cleaning. Lots of toilets. At last check they have 220 toilets on the campus. Could I handle that? Would I know what to do with a plunger when I got a call on the radio for a “code brown?” Yup. I was ready.
I arrived on a muggy Friday in late July. I was taken to my room in a golf cart, a small room in a cute cabin with a bathroom and shower only a short walk away. I was told that the room belonged to a guy who had taken off in the middle of the night. I walked into the dusty hallway, looked for an outlet, and saw a note on the floorboards.
I picked it up.
It read:
Dear Mike,
Please leave.
You are NOT welcome here
We really need you to leave at once.
Namaste,
Your friends in —-house
While this left a bad taste in my mouth, I decided to stick it out.
The summer flew. Code browns became my specialty. (It’s all in the angle and force of suction.
So it wasn't until my last night there, when while packing up tearfully already missing the place that I remembered the Dear Mike note. I Bent down to the floorboard and picked it up. Yes, I had left it there all summer.
I Began reading it
It said:
Dear MICE!!!
That dear reader, I call 2 great examples of our negativity bias working - imperfectly. Changing just one letter.
