The other one of us [WB] finds this statement made by his colleague [SP] to be typical of the way in which she expands on, reframes and uncovers the reality to be found in the life each of us leads. She works effectively with executives who must make difficult decisions every day about what to trade-off and what to establish as fundamental priorities. As an executive coach, SP helps her clients stay with (rather than escape from) often-contradictory information, polarizing intentions, and multi-dimensional ideas until such time as appropriate actions can be formulated and engaged. Her effectiveness resides precisely in her encouragement of clients to think about “and” rather than “or”. As someone [WB] who works closely with my colleague [SP], I find these same sustained modes of reflection and inquiry to be abundant in our collaborative relationship—and in her heart, mind (and soul).

Harm, Grace and Wholeness

Given the general (as well as quite personal) reflections we have offered on harmlessness, the question remains: how do we lead and live in our challenging world? If one is never harmless when serving in a leadership role – or even being active in life (as Parker Palmer notes), then what would it mean to be harmless? Does it mean to simply do nothing? Does it mean to not leave any mark on the world—not to move on any path nor to do anything other than sit passively aside waiting for the world to act on us rather than we on it?

Can there be an active harmlessness, such as the Jains practice—where we not only do no harm ourselves but also seek to reduce all levels and types of harm in the world. As noted in the Christian beatitudes, this might mean that we strive to be “peacemakers” and in this way become “the sons [children] of God.” This is a tall order, though perhaps as Paul Tillich (1948) notes, the Grace of God allows us to be peacemakers. The safe thing might be to do nothing—and in this way, sadly, live in a very ungraceful state of stagnation.

Perhaps grace is something other than the capacity to be peacemakers who can extend harmlessness beyond themselves. Grace might be more about forgiveness. We might be forgiven for doing harm to other people – intentionally or unintentionally. And this grace might come not from a source of divinity but instead from inside ourselves. We find a way to forgive our own harmful acts—and in doing so, we acknowledge our union with all other human beings—who like us can’t always avoid doing harm. We can turn once again to Parker Palmer (1990, p. 31), to gain his wisdom on this matter of doing harm in a life of action. He suggests that it is through our decisions and actions taken under difficult circumstances, when we are likely to do harm, that we find community and gain a fully appreciation of our own self:

The nonmonstrous [non harming] parts of ourselves, the parts we consider angelic, are parts that separate us from others; they make for distinction, not unity. These parts give us pride because they make us different, not because they unite us with the common lot of humankind. Our successes and our glories are not the stuff of community, but our sins and our failures are. In those difficult areas of our lives we confront the human condition, and we begin to learn compassion for all beings who share the limits of life itself. It is not the [lofty]angels in us but the fallen angels who know the way down, down to the hidden wholeness.