Conversations For Transformation:
Essays Inspired By The Ideas Of Werner Erhard
Conversations For Transformation
Essays By Laurence Platt
Inspired By The Ideas Of Werner Erhard
And More
Stand Up, Sit Down, Stand Up, Sit Down
Trefethen Family Vineyards, Oak Knoll Appellation,
Napa Valley,
California, USA
September 25, 2012
The first time I experienced it (it's not brief - it goes on for quite
a while) I knew immediately it was was an awesome exercise, a
process which, with
laser‑like accuracy and
simplicity,
goes straight to the heart of our
resistance
to following simple instructions. I mean "following simple
instructions" quite literally. But it can also be a euphemism for
surrendering to
what works.
It's been said "When all else fails, follow the instructions" - and
we're loathe to follow the instructions. Computer geeks will relate
to "If it doesn't
work
as advertised, read the f******
manual!" - giving rise to the infamous acronym
RTFM. Is it that we're so sure things are
difficult, is it that we're so certain things are
complicated that when the simplest, most elegant choices
present themselves, we're routinely skeptical of (and so we
resist)
their
workability?
The trainer says "OK, stand up.". Everybody stands up. If this is the
first time you've
participated in
this particular process, you think "Great! It's a stretch
break.". But just as you raise your arms or turn your hips or do
whatever you do when you're stretching, the trainer says "OK, sit
down.". You sit down, thinking "That was a short break!"
just as the trainer says "OK, stand up" again. Everybody
stands up again. Then, after not much time standing, "OK, sit down.".
"OK, stand up.". "OK, sit down.". "OK, stand up.".
It doesn't stop when you start wondering what it's all about. "Sit
down.". It doesn't stop when you start thinking "This guy
must be kidding.". "Stand up.". It doesn't stop when
people begin laughing nervously. "Sit down.". It doesn't even stop when
some people have simply harumphed and remain seated,
ignoring the trainer's instructions. "Stand up.". "Sit down.". "Stand
up.". "Sit down.".
When it finally ends (maybe twenty minutes later), there's sharing.
"What did you get from the process?" the trainer asks the group. Most
of the expected,
business as
usual
outbursts come first. "What was that all about?". "What a
total waste of time!". "What are you trying to do - make us
angry?".
You know
this work.
You suspect none of the
business as usual
outbursts have anything to do with the purpose the process serves.
Slowly, very slowly at first, people start getting what it's
really about. It's really about the way we're
thrown to be when following simple instructions. It's
really about
what comes up
in the face of being told what to do - which is to say
it's really also about
what comes upwhen we
assume
we're being told what to do, be it by another person or by Life
itself. It's really about coming eyeball to eyeball with our
resistance
to following simple instructions. It's a brilliantly choreographed
experience of really looking at the
ego
mechanism which says "No one can tell
me what to do - no one!",
and eventually asking whether being
ego‑centric
this way serves any useful purpose.
For some, the process is infuriating. Even more so, for them
it's infuriating that it's infuriating. It's not infuriating for
everyone, mind you: there are others for whom the process is
enlightening, an eye opener. I'm one of the latter. It could be those
for whom it's infuriating, are unwilling to confront their own
infuri-ation (if I may
coin
a new
word)
in the matter of being asked to follow simple instructions. It could be
whatever issues and reactivations they experience resulting from being
asked to follow simple instructions (which result in their
justifications for
resisting
following simple instructions), are the issues and reactivations which
get in the way of Life
working.
The "stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down" process provides a perfect
opportunity to
observe
them, whatever they are, to confront them, and to choose to let them
go.