In Service of Life
In recent years the question how can I help? has become meaningful to many people. But perhaps there is a deeper question we might consider. Perhaps the real question is not how can I help? but how can I serve?
Serving is different from helping. Helping is based on inequality. It is not a relationship between equals. When you help you use your own strength to help those of lesser strength. If I am attentive to what is going on inside of myself when I am helping, I find that I am always helping someone who is not as strong as I am. People feel this inequality. When we help we may inadvertently take away from people more than we could ever give them; we may diminish their self-esteem, their sense of worth, integrity, and wholeness. When I help I am very aware of my own strength. But we don’t serve with our strength, we serve within ourselves. We draw from all our experiences. Our limitations serve, our wounds serve, even our darkness serves. The wholeness in us serves the wholeness in others and the wholeness in life. The wholeness in you is the same as the wholeness in me. Service is a relationship between equals.
Helping incurs debt. When you help someone they owe you. But serving, like healing, is mutual. There is no debt. I am as served as the person serving. When I help I have a feeling of satisfaction. When I serve I have a feeling of gratitude. These are very different things.
Serving is also different from fixing. When I fix a person I perceive them as broken, and their brokenness requires me to act. When I fix I do not see the wholeness in the other person or trust the integrity of the life in them. When I serve I see and trust that wholeness. It is what I am responding to and collaborating with.
There is a difference between ourselves and/or whomever we are fixing. Fixing is a form of judgment. All judgment creates a distance, a disconnection, an experience of difference. In fixing there is an inequality of expertise that can easily become a moral distance. We cannot serve at a distance. We can only serve that to which we are profoundly connected that which we are willing to touch. This is Mother Theresa’s basic message. We serve life not because it is broken but because it is holy.
If helping is an experience of strength, then fixing is an experience of mastery and expertise. Service, on the other hand, is an experience of mystery, surrender and awe. A fixer has the illusion of being casual. A server knows that he or she is being used and has a willingness to be used in the service of something greater, something essentially unknown. Fixing and helping are very personal; they are very particular, concrete, and specific. We fix and help many different things in our lifetimes, but when we serve we are always serving the same thing. Everyone who has ever served through the history of time serves the same thing. We are servers of the wholeness and mystery in life.
The bottom line of course, is that we can fix without serving. And we can help without serving. And we can serve without fixing or helping. I think I would go as far as to say that fixing and helping may often be the work of the ego, and services the work of the soul. They may look similar if you are watching from the outside but the inner experience is different and the outcome is often different too.
Our service serves us as well as others. That which uses us strengthens us. Overtime, fixing and helping are draining, depleting. Over time we burn out. Service is renewing. When we serve, our work itself will sustain.
Service rests on the basic premise that the nature of life is sacred, that life is a holy mystery which has an unknown purpose. When we serve, we know that we belong to life and to that purpose. Fundamentally, helping, fixing and service are ways of seeing life. When you help you see life as weak, when you fix, you see life as broken. When you serve, you see life as whole. From the perspective of service we are all connected. All suffering is like my suffering and all joy is like my joy. The impulse to serve emerges naturally and inevitably from this way of seeing.
By Rachel Naomi Remen.