(Dear Reader: This was one of those weeks when I wasn’t able to create something worth sharing. So I’ve gone back in my archives and am offering this post from 2021.)
Disillusionment. It’s a hard word to hear.
In our relationships: Someone we’ve trusted does something that hurts or disappoints us. We feel deflated, confused, betrayed.
At work: The organization we work for makes a decision that shocks or upsets us. We realize we’ve been trusting it to act a certain way, and now it has betrayed its own stated values.
In politics and public life: A leader or group acts in a way that runs counter to basic principles we thought everyone shared.
In our spiritual journeys: Something happens that we believed wouldn’t happen if we were faithful, responsible and caring.
“I’ve become so disillusioned,” someone says, and then describes what happened. We hear sadness, detachment, even depression in their voice.
But there’s another way to hear it.
Parker Palmer, a writer who has been a mentor to me and to many others over the years, has a surprising perspective on this word. As he said in an interview with Krista Tippett:
When a friend says, “I’m so disillusioned!” about this or that, why do we say, “I’m so sorry! How can I help?” We ought to say, “Congratulations! You’ve just lost an illusion! That means you’ve moved that much closer to reality, the only place where it’s safe to stand!”[i]
I’ve found this insight very useful.
Let’s start with personal relationships.
I remember hearing a radio program featuring a noted marriage and family therapist. He was talking about why every couple could benefit from counseling as a way to truly get to know each other.
“But we got to know each other when we were dating,” couples would tell him.
“No, dating is about deception,” he said. “You want to see the best in the other person, just as you’re working hard to show them your best side. But after a while, you start to see each other as you really are. That’s a good time to begin getting to know each other.”
Instead of leading to despair, dis-illusionment can lead to greater clarity.
In the workplace, I’ve been on both sides of disillusionment.
As a nonprofit executive director, I occasionally had to terminate employees. Labor law and HR policies kept me from giving the rest of the staff a satisfying explanation. We had often talked about “being a family,” and abrupt terminations led people to ask, “What’s going on? I thought we were a family. Are we just a heartless business?”
When that happened at Hospice of Santa Barbara, I spent several weeks trying to figure out how to describe what kind of entity we really were. Eventually I had an idea and presented it at a staff meeting. First, I listed the ways we were a business: our financial practices, our legal obligations and so on. Then I listed the ways we could be caring and supportive of one another within those boundaries.
“If we didn’t meet the requirements of a good business,” I said, “we wouldn’t exist. But within those limits, we’ll try to be like a family whenever we can. So let’s think of ourselves as a ‘Biz-imly’: a business first, and like a family when possible.”
That reframing seemed to help, and employees quoted it back to me for years afterward.
I’ve also been on the employee side, watching upper management make decisions that seemed clearly contrary to their espoused values. It helped to say to myself, “The idea that they would live up to their values was an illusion. Now it’s been dis-ed. I won’t make that mistake again.”
Disillusionment comes easily in political life. It’s what George Washington felt when he left office. He had hoped the leaders of the new nation would be dedicated to personal humility and public virtue, which he had modeled so well, and he was disheartened to see them falling into factions and cynical politics. James Madison was more realistic about human nature. He helped shape the Constitution so that a system of checks and balances could contain selfish partisanship. Washington’s hopeful illusion led to despair; Madison’s clarity produced a Constitution that has, for the most part, endured. We can admire leaders who hold on to the highest hopes and ideals while keeping a realistic understanding of human behavior and political realities.
Disillusionment in our spiritual journeys can take many forms, and it almost always grows out of assumptions we’ve made.
In Buddhism, it’s a given that human beings tend to see permanence where there is none. The path, then, is to stay vigilant about our illusions so that we can see things as they really are. A well-known verse by the Japanese poet Mizuta Masahide captures how truth can follow loss: “Barn’s burnt down / Now I can see the moon.”
In the Biblical traditions, it’s more complicated. Some passages suggest that people of faith will be protected from harm and disappointment. Others are more realistic. Jesus staked his life on the belief that the one enduring reality is the love and justice of God. “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” meaning those who have been emptied of false hopes and illusions, “for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
One qualification: I don’t offer this perspective as glib “tea-bag wisdom” that pretends disappointment is easy to handle. Some losses cut deep into our souls and won’t vanish with clever wordplay.
But I invite you to try it. The next time you feel disillusioned, ask yourself whether you’ve just come a little closer to reality. And don’t give up.
[i] https://onbeing.org/blog/losing-our-illusions
Lead Image: “Barns Burnt Down,” fiber art by Rebecca Mezoff
