Blog 162
June 11, 2026
SPEAKING OF…
“What we have here is a failure to communicate.”
(“Cool Hand Luke”, Film 1967)
The above iconic line was delivered twice in the film “Cool Hand Luke”, first uttered by a cruel prison boss, and a second time by Luke himself, pushing against the authorities to his last breath. In fact, the entire film pivots around just how far off the rails communication can get between adversarial parties.
Communication has been topical for me since a misunderstanding with a loved one reminded me just how alienating my own way of expressing my ideas can be. My motto, “you must ask for what you really want” is not always compatible with other styles of communication — or not communicating — as the case may be.
But there’s another, equally important facet of communication that has to do with the stories we tell ourselves. It’s too easy to figuratively crawl under a rock and tell myself just how unfair or insensitive another person has been, without taking time to reflect on their message and learn something about myself, perhaps a hard truth that can be embarrassing to my ego.
Swami Radha writes:
“Communicate within yourself well. If you learn to communicate with yourself, you will also communicate well with others. The communication between your mind, even your doubting mind, and the Most High in yourself, is a very fruitful and rich communication. Don’t choke it.
“In other words, in your communication even with your most beloved, be honest. But you can’t unless you are first honest with yourself. How much do you want to give? How much are you really trying to get? Unless you know where you stand, on which end of the pole, you cannot meet with your beloved, whether it’s a human being or the Divine. You cannot meet in the middle, in the centre, unless you know who you are.
You do not find yourself by going somewhere, by leaving your house, because wherever you go, you take yourself with you.”
It comes with the territory of leading an examined life that, if honest with myself, I am confronted with traits and behaviors that don’t fit with my self-image, or the image I wish to project to the world. In other words, it’s important to acknowledge that, when I’m pointing the finger of blame at someone else, three fingers are pointing back at me. In order to accept this reality, I need sufficient courage and self-confidence to work with what some psychologists describe as my shadow side. In fact, the more perfect I think I need to be, the more power my shadow (aka flawed-human) side has to sabotage me. So there’s obviously a need to balance my self-image with humility, with the courage to admit that, after seventy-five years on the planet, I’m still learning and (hopefully) growing.
In a way, I find this encouraging. Once a certain level of comfort or “worldly” success has been achieved, it’s too easy to fall into a kind of ennui; having no illusions to pursue, or nothing compelling to do. Perhaps it was this ennui (read complacency) that compelled me to expand my horizons, literally and figuratively, in my recent travels. The only drawback being that one does have to come home, eventually. Hence in the last two or three blog-less weeks I’ve been doing a lot of processing. I’ve had to accept my relative insignificance in the whole scheme of things. The world does not revolve around me or my wants and needs.
This is being brought home even more profoundly now, as I resume writing while sitting at the foot of my son’s gurney in the hallway of the surgical unit at VGH. Though he is deemed in urgent need of gall-bladder surgery, he’s been bumped by six other, more urgent-urgent surgeries. (And this not counting the higher priorities that bumped him all day yesterday). Other than elevate my blood pressure or alienate the only people who are in a position to help him to at least get a room, (all the kind of non-starters that my recent lessons in communication have taught me) I am left at the mercy of the vicissitudes of health care delivery in Vancouver, B.C. No better way to find out just how insignificant one can be.
The only viable option available is to count my blessings. One of which is having my husband and Ian’s dad (one and the same) come to relieve me of this ringside seat to a steady parade of people in worse misery than me or my family. And beat a hasty retreat, back to my escapist TV.
Om Namah Sivayah
PS speaking of asking for what you really want, what I really want now is a Pisco Sour.