Four Ninja Turtles, One Party Dude, And The Power Of Non-dualistic Living
Non-dualistic thinking changes the way policies are made, votes are gathered, and people are cared for.
Pop quiz; Which cartoon Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle is the coolest?
Ding, ding, ding. If you said Raphael, give yourself a big high-five. On the other hand, if you picked Leonardo or even Donatello, then you’re not a complete loss as a person. But if you said Michelangelo, we can’t be friends.
At least, not with my twelve-year-old self, that is.
It’s simple, really, Michelangelo made me feel insulted. There was just something about the “party dude” in orange that felt like a copout. Like he was more of a critique on how adults saw kids, then a real and true creation. And if he was your favorite ninja brother, well, you were just as much a part of the problem as the creators.
I’d say the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was my line in the sand. My first this or that. My first black and white. My first time taking it all in and believing a thing because I wanted to believe it, not because someone else did. My first, that I can remember, experience with dualism.
Dualism says that for me to be right, you have to be wrong. That there is only black and white — no such things as grey. Dualism makes us feel comfortable. It lets us pick a turtle in red and feel great, while simultaneously judging anyone who picks a ninja in orange.
I didn’t know this growing up, of course, and it didn’t come out in any meaningful way — I wasn’t attacking Michelangelo fans or spray painting Raphael rules on buildings. But I was still strengthening a single-minded behavior I would grow to despise, and eventually, struggle to exchange for something altogether more enlightening; non-dualism.
Non-dualism says its possible for something to be “both/and” at the same time? That two contradictory viewpoints can co-exist. That there doesn’t have to be a winner and loser. That I can like Raph, and you can like Mikey, and we can still be friends. Or better yet, I might just try to understand what it is you find so appealing about the nunchaku toting ninja.
“Our ability to read reality in a way that is not judgmental, in a way that is not exclusionary of the part that we don’t understand. When you don’t split everything up according to what you like and what you don’t like, you leave the moment open, you let it be what it is in itself, and you let it speak to you. Reality is not totally one, but it is not totally two, either! Stay with that necessary dilemma, and it can make you wise.” — Richard Rohr
That’s where things really get interesting and why non-dualistic thinking is so valuable. It doesn’t just make room for acceptance, but rather encourages the mind to understand all that’s out there to be understood.
As a thought experiment, imagine what we’re seeing as a cartoon with four turtles is actually one turtle. Stick with me.
There’s Leo, the archetypal leader, more or less. Without him there would be no direction, and almost zero sacrifice and virtue. But that doesn’t make him perfect. He tries to please everyone, and gets his feelings hurt easily, unlike his counterpart, Raphael, who’s withdrawn personality makes it easy for him to make the tough decisions. Raph, simply, doesn’t care what other people think. A quality that, while admirable at times, can turn pretty terrifying if not regulated.
Then there’s Donny. A remarkable genius who can make anything with his hands. But a brother that wouldn’t leave the sewer if his siblings didn’t force him too. Now contrast Donny with Mikey and the differences are impossible to miss. If left to their own devices, one would work himself to death, while the other would be party himself into oblivion.
Now take all those traits, quirks, and unique behaviors, and instead of thinking of them as separate beings, imagine them all coalescing into one. A Mother ninja, as it were. A warrior with the power to lead, the mind to invent, the thick skin to continue, and the heart to laugh at themselves ,and even relax at times. An unbeatable, unified juggernaut that’s far superior to its singular components. A living, breathing, fighting, green game of Jenga — remove the wrong thing and it’s game over.
There’s a chance the show was consciously selling this profound message of non-dualistic teamwork, or maybe it was unconscious, or maybe they were just trying to sell toys. Whatever the case, it’s easy to see the problem with dualism as demonstrated by our four fighting brothers. Simply put, they needed each other the way we need others that aren’t like us. More than that, the way we need opinions, beliefs, and behaviors that aren’t like ours. Things that challenge us in new and novel ways, forcing us to grow beyond who we are. More unlocking pieces of ourselves than creating them. More, like Plato described, recollecting then learning.
Interestingly, the older I get, the more I understand exactly why Raph was my favorite. It wasn’t because I was like him, it was because I wanted to be like him, when in fact, I was much more like Leo. And on some level at least, I always knew it.
Why is that important? Because it just goes to show you how limiting dualism can be, and by contrast, how liberating non-dualistic thinking truly is.
Non-dualistic thinking changes the way policies are made, votes are gathered, and people are cared for. No more sides. No more I’m right so you have to be wrong. But a genuine curiosity of why one turtle wears orange, one wears blue, one likes to party, and one likes to lead. And exactly how we can combine our individual strengths into something magnificent.
