Proving or Discovering

I am sitting here with a tube that goes into my nostril and down the back of my throat. It’s not great. It’s not as horrible as it sounds, but it’s not great. Nonetheless, I am only suffering this for 24 hours, in the name of science. A research project in which I volunteered to participate is going to be checking my acid levels all night. I know that research finds ways to help most people, most of the time, in most average circumstances, so I never mind participating in studies. I also know that almost no situation is average, and “most” means, by definition, that some are left out. Sometimes, this lack of consideration for the some who are left out gets so frustrating to me that I spout out things like, “Numbers lie!” and “Live by the people in front of you, not by the research you’ve read in some book!” as if I give no credence whatsoever to research findings. I do, of course, as evidenced by the fact that I’m willing to have a tube up my nose for 24 hours, but I also believe that once you’ve determined through research what to most often expect, you should still expect anything at all.  

I could say the same thing about living your dreams. Sometimes we get so stuck in what “usually” happens, or what “has happened 1000 times before,” or what we’ve seen happen to everyone else, that we stop imagining what our own, most joyful life could be. Or, we’re so concerned about the side-effects that have been proven “might” befall us that we resist the impetus to move.

If we stop looking at our lives as much like researchers and start looking at our lives more like discoverers, joy will naturally follow. The difference? Researchers start with a premise, something they believe to be true based on what they already know… “I know that I cannot fly.” Then they set about to prove it, by dropping things that do not fly and saying, “I have the evidence that flight is impossible. All the times I tried, nothing flew.”

Discoverers start with a dream… “I would love to fly.” Then they set about brainstorming methods, and imagining and studying things that do fly, and making models, and learning as they go about what not to do, and one day they announce, “Look! I’ve discovered a way for man to fly!” It’s an important distinction. And in our lives, it’s important for us to know what we’ve set out to prove versus what we’ve set out to discover, if we are to live joyfully.

Are you proving that your job is horrible, by recounting everything that is difficult or every person you dislike? Or are you discovering all of the incredible ways you get to contribute and experience yourself… as compassionate, team-spirited, creative, or whatever…

Are you proving that the economy is bad, by focusing on what you’ve lost or are losing? Or are you discovering exciting ways to enjoy your life with less money… enjoying your inner-chef by cooking at home, marveling at your own discipline in paying off your smallest credit card balance…

I don’t actually know if the scientist who required this tube to be placed in a subject’s nose is researching (“… I already believe healthy people have this much acid production, now I need to prove it…”) or if he is discovering (“… I dream to find a cure for acid reflux, and to do that, I am studying acid…”). I hope it’s the latter. And I hope that you and I will always start with the dream of what can be, instead of the premise of whatever evidence we see around us, and joyfully set about discovering that dream.