A major tenet of this work on gurus and power is “no one under the bus.” This means that when life lets us down, there is no blame, no offloading of responsibility, no throwing anyone (neither the gurus nor ourselves) under the bus. In other words, when our gurus fall short, despite our disappointment, frustration, or rage, we aim to remember their humanity. That they too, like us, are imperfect and works in progress. And that when we fall short, realizing we have once again somehow disempowered ourselves, we refrain from damning self-judgment.

“No one under the bus” does not mean becoming a doormat, ignoring our intuition, abdicating empowerment, or avoiding uncomfortable feelings and conversations while hoping the problems will just disappear. Nor does it mean ascribing to the Pollyanna version of “it’s all good” while skating over the surface of difficult interactions, turning away from the things we’d rather not see or deal with.  It is not a license to tolerate abuse, disrespect, or manipulative, controlling behaviors, or to stand by while people get hurt. This phrase doesn’t cajole us into accepting the status quo because “that’s just the way things are,” nor does it encourage us to let our dreams and aspirations die on the vine while waiting for someone else to change.

“No one under the bus” also does not mean blaming the victim.

It means not being one.

“No one under the bus” means believing that people, in their essence, are good—even the most wounded among us. We see people not just with their current “adult” presentation of ignorant, perhaps even egregious behaviors, but also as once innocent children who, somewhere along the line, themselves experienced deep disappointment and possibly abandonment or abuse. While they may have progressed skyward in some aspects of their personal or professional lives, their unintegrated shadows have left significant gaps. We may feel disheartened by or disagree with everything they are currently offering and yet still hold them with some degree of understanding and compassion. Rather than entangling ourselves in us-them dichotomies and consuming our life energy in gossip and vitriol, we remain firm in our convictions, calling out incongruities without necessarily exploding entire enterprises (a byproduct of the shadow side of cancel culture). Instead of projecting our fears of powerlessness and voicelessness, we learn the skillful means necessary to get our needs met by those who can meet them—and by ourselves.

In this way, we stay open to the possibility of an opening, of dialog, of transformation.

This is undoubtedly a high road. And a tough one, at least at first. It requires stepping back from the weeds of daily interaction and holding the longer-term, bigger picture. It takes compassion, patience, and commitment, along with determination and courage. It demands a willingness to experience vulnerability and uncomfortable emotions, as well as other points of view.

It can also take time. Sometimes, decades.

For often before taking or even seeing the high road, we must understand what is going on inside of us.

“No one under the bus” means holding ourselves with the same compassion, forgiveness, and possibility we extend to others. It means hearing our voice and trusting it, recognizing we have needs and that these needs are valid. We learn to accept our own work-in-progress natures and acknowledge every baby step we take. We take responsibility for our ignorance and missteps. We learn to stand in our truth and follow through with actions that support this truth. We do not allow another’s inability to see or hear us to define our self-worth. We appreciate our daily growing confidence rather than lament the time (often years) lost to immaturity. We grasp the unavoidable collective sanding of our rough edges as essential for our mutual transformation. We recognize we might have something to teach others, including those who teach us.

Getting to this place of being able to hold the 30,000-foot view while navigating life on Earth generally does not happen overnight. Depending on the intensity of a situation, we may need to step away—for safety, clarity, peace, or self-preservation. This distancing may be temporary or permanent. But self-honoring and self-protection don’t necessarily require aborting a conversation; we can still come to healthy resolutions within ourselves, and if circumstances evolve to allow for more dialog, we can leave the door open for a meeting of hearts and minds down the road.

“No one under the bus” as a guiding principle sets a high bar. Adhering to this principle is neither the most comfortable nor often the most popular path. It’s not easy to keep a positive view when surveying the shadow side of humanity and experiencing everything from annoyance to outrage. When people are acting very badly, seemingly intent on destroying others, the planet, and themselves, it is hard not to get pissed off. It is hard not to judge. Not standing up to offense is not a long-term, viable option. We need to engage. Some people should be behind metaphorical or perhaps literal bars, disarmed and contained so they can cause no further harm.

But can we learn not to throw others away even though we may have been discounted? Can we learn to say no and create strong boundaries minus animosity and hatred? For hate, while it feels like power, is just another form of powerlessness. It looks strong and loud, brash and bold. Yet hatred destroys us from the inside. This is neither strength nor power. This is our own inner child thrashing, screaming, still crying to be heard.

There are many angles to the guru equation. Although the ones in power should know better, they often don’t due to their own ignorance and woundedness. The fact that they made it through decades of checks and balances and now have status and power speaks as much to our unwitting complicity as to their accomplishments. No one side can claim exclusive dibs on power and its use or misuse. “No one under the bus” means we recognize that we are all in this together, and it would behoove us to work it out together.

For when we throw someone under the bus, we end up throwing ourselves under the bus, too.

It’s a big bus.

And there’s a lot of room under there.