Learning and Unlearning

The past five years have been an interesting journey for me. Ill health has plagued me to the point where my life-force was, for several months, down to about 15% and occasions, much less. The experience has brought many interesting insights and lessons with it – and one which has struck me particularly in the last few days is the business of learning and unlearning.

Given the nature of the illness I’ve had, I’m well aware that there are certain things I simply can’t eat and that there is a limited amount (portion-wise) that I can eat. I’ve come to learn how important it is to trust my body, to listen to it and adhere to its recommendations. I’m also aware that at some times my body will request a particular foodstuff and at other times quails at the prospect of that same food. The lesson has been all about learning to listen and pay attention to my body’s wisdom. And generally I’m pretty good about what my body is saying, but sometimes, my conditioning, all the things that I’ve learned over the course of nearly five decades, shouts more loudly than the wisdom of my body.

You see, my heritage is primarily central European and my great-grandmother starved to death during the First World War. Finishing everything on one’s plate was a standard dining table requirement when I was growing up, as was eating pretty much anything you were given – whether you liked it or not. So I find myself sitting here with my body wisdom saying one thing and my conditioned learning saying another. Sometimes it’s like being caught in crossfire! Of course, common sense says “listen to your body” but I’m struck at how forceful and insistent conditioned learning is – and how hard it is to undo.

It strikes me then that learning is relatively simple by comparison to the difficult business of unlearning and breaking the habits and conditioning of a lifetime!

In pondering all this, I was reminded of the rather delightful – and telling - Buddhist story on the same topic.

A man walks down the road, sees a hole and falls in. He is anguished and feels hopeless and it takes him ages to find his way out of the hole.
The next day he walks down the same road. The hole is still there but he pretends not to see it and falls in. He can’t believe he’s made the same mistake twice! He’s convinced it’s not his fault but it still takes him ages to get out.
On the following day, he walks down the same road. The hole is still there and he sees it – but now he falls in because falling into the hole has become a habit. He knows what he’s doing but he can’t seem to stop himself. He knows it’s his own fault that he’s landed in the hole and he immediately pulls himself out of it.
On the fourth day he walks down the same street again. The hole is still there waiting for him – but this time he detours by walking around it.
On the fifth day he walks down a different street.