Meeting What Arrives
“There was once a man who decided to become a Buddhist monk. Upon entering the monastery, he made a vow not to leave until he had learned something significant enough that he could teach it to others to relieve their suffering. Finally, after 30 years, he announced that it was time for him to go. The important lesson? Meet what arrives.”
—Buddhist parable, as retold by the author
I had a chance to practice meeting what arrives under very different circumstances than a monastery. I was driving on the highway behind a giant truck hauling dirt. The reason I knew what it was carrying is that the black tarp on top wasn’t secured; it kept flapping so much that I could tell it might fly off at any moment. But I drew on my practice of staying present and stayed aware of the tarp, the other cars around me, and my speedometer.
Sure enough, as the highway went uphill and around a curve, the plastic sheet came undone, floated upward for a second, and billowed right towards me.
In that moment, I was completely calm. It was like time had elongated. I was present to notice how beautifully and elegantly the material caught the air, flowing like a dancer’s skirt. I could tell it was going to land across my windshield and cover my view, so I decided to keep driving and see what would happen. Right after it covered me, it got pulled into the slipstream and whipped over the car. When I looked in the rearview mirror, the sheet had dropped to the ground, no longer a danger.
About ten seconds later, I found myself shaken by the experience: a combination of adrenaline and “Oh my god, did that just happen?” careening around my nervous system. And yet I recognized that if I’d seized up with fear and slammed on the brakes instead of meeting what actually arrived, I could have gotten seriously hurt.
Rev. Dr. Samuel Wells notes that the ability to act from presence and instinct is the goal of theological ethics—to be so present in the moment and so steeped in our spiritual values, beliefs, and aspirations that we act from that place without needing to think about it. It’s no longer what we do; it’s who we are.
This is a moment when those of us living in the US must ask ourselves who we are as a country. More than that, how can we become something better, especially for those struggling in the margins? Staying present to what’s real—our world, our hope, our stories—can help us embody our values, whatever comes our way.
Prayer
Spirit of Presence, may we meet what arrives with open hearts and open minds, and may our commitments and aspirations run so deep that choices become obvious, even in the midst of complexity. Amen and blessed be.