it occurs to me what a great gift i have been given.
i wish i could say i know it was given with deliberation. i choose to think so. i think, perhaps, it is important to say i know it was so. even as i do not yet know it. perhaps in saying i do, i will remember to remember it until i can know it.
so much has happened inside in so short a time, i feel as if i should be out of breath. but, in truth, it feels as if i am only just beginning to know what it is to breathe at all.
tonight, as i was reading the link posted in the previous entry, i was remembering how i got started on this path. and, of course, that lead me to think about all the steps that have happened between that moment and this one.
which in turn, set me off on thinking about the various flowers and garbage along the way.
which in turn, resulted in such a sharp cut by Manjushri’s sword that i feel very fortunate indeed that such cuts are not physical. surely i would be dead otherwise.
i have been given a supreme gift. i have been anointed with the purest of fragrant oils. and it has taken me 391 days to even begin to see it. and i am not at all sure that i really understand it just yet.
imagine if you will that you are about to cross the street. you actually have one foot off the curb. your entire weight is leaning into the step. and, from nowhere, by something or someone you do not even see, you are catapulted backward, flat on your back, breath knocked completely out of you, so fully incapacitated that your vision swims, you cannot smell, all sense of touch is numbed, and the only thing you can hear is the odd silence that comes from a completely involuntary, reflexive shutdown of aural capacity as emergency systems immediately swing into action.
you stand slowly. shudder. the animal reaction is setting in. slamming pain in your lower back as the adrenals get the message and fire. sudden coursing energy and you can feel your pulse along every inch of your body. all hair, even the tinest ones, are standing on end… reaching outward to sense presence, anticipate contact.
you finally adjust well enough to actually move, and your head swings a quick semi-circle, seeking the reason. you see someone standing there, smiling to you. and the semi-truck barreling by has passed… so it takes a moment to realize that this person has, very literally, very directly, and without care for your perceptions, saved your life.
now imagine that you are so self-absorbed and careless and thoughtless that, rather than thank them and invite them to everything you possess… if only to find something that they might agree to receive… you curse at them, raise your hand and slap them, and berate them for disturbing your progress.
or imagine that you actually do manage to invite them to everything you possess and they refuse. and rather than be content that you offered, you instead curse and berate them for not allowing you to foist something on them.
or imagine that you manage not to curse and berate them for the refusal, but in the following days, perversely set them on so high a pedestal that they cannot help but eventually fall from it. when they do, you curse and berate them for not being able (or willing?) to remain there.
then… imagine that this other, as human as you, chooses any form of completely human response to such things. and you, self-cherishing before all else, castigate and berate them until they feel they must leave your presence.
but, not content to have driven them away, you scream down the street after them for a time… until they disappear completely over the horizon. then, as the foolish thing you are, you go to the cafe and have your coffee on the patio, watch traffic go by and tell yourself all the ways and reasons they were unworthy of your interest.
as you sit there, mumbling and flushed faced, another arrives from the direction in which the ill-respected friend has departed. it is someone you know. they lean in and tell you how they heard the departing one speak ill of you, saying they wish they had never met you, let alone saved you from the truck.
just then, an elderly man leans over at the next table and whispers to his wife, ‘it was love at first sight. what a pity they were both blind.’
you push it from your mind. angry and hurt, you finish your coffee and wait for his return. but he does not return. so you curse him again, and decide to forget about him.
the following year, almost at the same time of year as when you met, you leave the office to go home and, as you do, you see a man about to step off the curb into the path of a recklessly speeding semi-truck.
without thought, without delay, reflexively, you leap at him, knocking him backwards, landing heavily, driving the breathe from him. pulling away to collect yourself, you watch as he stands… and you can see the very things you know crossed your face in that moment you were there. and you cringe, because you know what is coming.
he turns his face to you and draws a breath to speak, and you tense for it, shields slamming into place and bracing yourself for impact. he opens his mouth and says,
“thank you for saving my life.”
then, simply, turns and continues his crossing of the street, until he too, is gone over the horizon.
and in that one moment, all the various horrors and faults rise up from the vault of the mind and begin a macabre parade… dancing great, slow, painful movements as they drag every memory out into the light.
you shudder. you close your eyes. but the images play along your lids… a flickering film of remorse.
you never even knew his true name. no idea where he lives. and are not willing to try and find out, lest the very memory of you is an ugly thing.
so instead, you go home… and in your garden, you plant a small seed. and tend it carefully. and lavish it with care. and in time, it grows. and in time, it blossoms. and in time, the blossom unfurls.
carefully, you remove the long stem from the bush… remove the thorns by hand… and walk into town… until you stand at the very curb.
with a sigh, with a tear, with a prayer, you set the rose upon the ground… and say the words that no one will hear, here, 391 days later…
“thank you for saving my life.”