Thursday, August 16, 2012

It Happened on The Feast of St. Laurence

On August 11, I wrote to a friend and described what I called an I-can't-not-do-this experience:
"Yesterday was the Feast of St. Laurence. I had intended to honor 'my' saint by doing some particular act of service, but failed to make plans; the day crept up on me. So I spent part of the day wondering what I might or could have done. Yesterday evening I was leaving the public library when an older (at least he looked older) and obviously needy man engaged me in conversation. We actually had a nice chat, then he asked the inevitable(?) question: would I happen to have some change to spare so he could buy some food? I gave him the $5.00 I had in my wallet, and said to him, 'You've answered a question I have been asking myself all day today.' Not surprisingly this went right past him, but he did thank me and offered me his hand. We shook hands, and I could not help but notice his firm grip. As we shook hands I looked him in the eye and said, 'Please take good care of yourself, ok?' I stood there and watched as he headed toward the library entrance. As he approached the door a young woman came out, a stack of books in one hand and a baby carrier/carseat in the other. She put the carrier down, and was fumbling as best she could with one hand to drape a cover across the carrier, I suppose to shade the baby from the sun. The man stopped, helped her with it, then went into the library. As I stood there I had a vision of him in the library, finding a book and sitting down to read it. Frankly I don't yet understand the vision. It was certainly not one of expectation and to say it was one of hope seems somehow to oversimplify it. Or maybe that's just my ego getting in the way, wanting to make things more complicated than they really are."

Earlier I had written about an experience of coming very near to hearing a voice when there was no one there, so I concluded my message with, "...thank you for being the type of friend with whom I can be perfectly at ease talking about 'voices' and 'visions' knowing you will understand."

My friend replied:
"Your description of that day was so interesting to me and I think voices and visions are your awareness become more acute. I think the voices and visions are always there, but you were at that moment tuned in. I think the vision was you sending the man compassion and peace-- that it rose spontaneously from the God-in-you-ness of your spirit, surprising even your own worldly self. I think it was your ego getting OUT of the way...[A]ttentiveness and transformation--we can miss so much if we don't pay attention and we have been trained to fill our minds with thoughts to avoid paying attention."

Thomas Merton wrote, "Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business, and, in fact, it is nobody's business. What we are asked to do is love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy if anything can."

I can't think of a more difficult challenge or one more worthy. The task of loving, of getting our egos out of the way so we are free to love without regard to "worthiness", is the work of a lifetime. But I find that at those times when I do so, I encounter those I-can't-not-do-this moments, and the paradox of not really having a choice of how to respond frees me from my ego's need to control, frees me to live in the moment. The "voices" say to me, "you matter," and the "visions" as well as my actions may just be a way of passing that message on.

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