“From the place where we are right/ Flowers will never grow/ in the Spring”
I’ve penned these words from “The Place Where We Are Right” at the beginning of my journal, where I keep treasures I want to revisit. The poem is by Yehuda Amichai, widely known as Israel’s greatest modern poet. Born in Germany, his family fled to Palestine in 1936 to escape Hitler’s rise to power. Amichai fought in the 1948 Israel-Arab conflict but later became an advocate for peace and reconciliation in the region. Knowing the poet’s shifting political context makes “The Place Where We Are Right” even more poignant.
In his book Seek: How Curiosity Can Transform Your Life and Change the World, Scott Shigeoka explains how uncertainty feels terrible to brains, prompting anxiety and discomfort. We much prefer to dwell in the land of certainty – the place where we are right – which is comforting and confining. Too often, Shigeoka writes, our certainty is based on assumptions, beliefs we accept as true without evidence. We tell ourselves all conservatives are selfish. Or all liberals are naive idealists. Such assumptions need to be recognized, Shigeoka says, and “pressure-tested for accuracy.” Cue up your curiosity in conversation with people you assume you know. Ask open and honest questions, avoiding what Shigeoka calls “predatory curiosity” that aims to prove wrong rather than understand. Be open to surprise at what (and who) you discover.
In Seek, Shigeoka tells the story of a six-month residency for “Nuns and Nones” hosted by a Catholic retreat center in Northern California. Five non-religious millennials went to live with an order of Catholic sisters to test the assumptions each held of the other group. One sister came to recognize why the millennials were uncomfortable with the nuns’ lifetime vows. “They’ve seen so much brokenness,” Sister Carle said. “This is just an age where so much is transitional that it’s pretty hard to think of something that’s going to be permanent.”
Sarah, a millennial, came to the residency repelled by the nuns’ vow of chastity, seeing it as a patriarchal tool for exerting power over women. Sarah was surprised to learn the nuns understood her concern and shared many feminist views. However, they didn’t see their vow of chastity as limiting or restricting their womanhood. Instead, they understood it as freeing them to love more, beyond one romantic partner, so they could invest more of their energy into others, particularly the poor and underserved.
According to Shigeoka, “What makes the Nuns and Nones story so interesting is how unusual it is — they were able to do something that so many of us struggle with: detaching from what we think we know.”
In Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount, Jesus implores us to be seekers. “Ask, and it will be given you; search and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you” (Matthew 7:7). The problem with seeking, though, is that it leads us away from the place where we are right, into the unknown and uncertain. Even with Jesus’ assurances, asking doesn’t guarantee we will like the answer; searching doesn’t guarantee what we find will feel good. The uncertainty beyond the unopened door can be enough to keep us from knocking.
Amichai’s poem is a good reminder of why we shouldn’t let fear, discomfort, or our need to be “right” keep us from seeking the greater truths Jesus encourages us to pursue. The place where we are right is too hard for flowers to break through the soil. It is too hard for new ideas, fresh perspectives, or the plow of change. It is too hard for growth.
“The place where we are right” kills possibilities and potential. Engaging each other with curiosity and being open to being wrong and being changed takes vulnerability and courage. But, as the poet reminds us, this is the soft, fertile soil from which spring flowers bloom.
