Myriad words and thoughts and deeds, whether for good or for ill, make the world what it is. A traffic jam here, a spoiled photo op there, a spider killed, baby mice cast asunder – whether we are aware of them or not, they keep adding up. You know the old proverb: when a butterfly flaps its wings, a hurricane blows on the other side of the world. Let me repent past indiscretions, and strive for greater awareness.
Friday, June 3, 2016
Every once in a while I experience an apparent synchronicity of events that leaves me musing about the possible existence of some greater intelligence acting in our day to day lives. That such God-like intelligence might be tweaking events in our lives is a foregone conclusion for some. Others are inclined to pass off these occurrences as mere coincidence that the perceiving individual chooses to invest with whatever meaning might be appropriate to him or her. I’m fairly agnostic on the matter. However, regardless of how we might think they came to be, such interesting collections of events can serve to focus our attention on lessons that might be worthwhile to learn, or relearn, as the case may be. For instance, here’s a recent occurrence of “synchronicity” in my life:
Event #1: I was heading home from work last Friday afternoon when I decided to make a detour for an early dinner. I made a right turn at a busy intersection and then quickly maneuvered into the left lane in order to make a left turn about four or five car lengths further along. There was a line of traffic that still needed to move through the intersection before I could make my turn, but I wasn’t in any hurry. I sat with my left turn signal on and waited for an opportunity. As I sat there I noticed the man in the oncoming car almost next to mine growing more and more impatient. He seemed to be glaring at me from behind his reflective shades as he repeatedly pulled hard on his cigarette. Then, when the light at the intersection changed without the traffic moving so much as a car length, he flicked his cigarette butt into the ground in my direction with apparent disgust and shook his head. A curious situation, I thought, as a lane of cars formed behind me. Anyway, as soon as the oncoming cars make their left turn, I’ll make mine. All will be well with the world. But nobody moved. Honking commenced. What was going on?
It took a while, but “cigarette man” and the rest of his line of cars gradually moved along and I was able to make a left turn into the restaurant parking lot. It was only then that my role in causing the traffic jam became apparent. On account of me blocking the left lane so near to the intersection, the traffic backing up behind me prevented oncoming traffic from making a left turn. Without the oncoming traffic being able to make a left turn neither could I! As a result, at least for a couple of minutes, gridlock prevailed. And I was its primary cause. Oops!
Event #2: The next afternoon was gloriously warm and sunny. The urban park where I frequently go for a (relatively) long run was teaming with people enjoying the outdoors in pretty much all manner that humans are inclined to do on such a day. I was near the end of my run – and worn out from the distance and the heat – when I came to an especially scenic stretch that threads its way through a riverine area and crosses several footbridges. Being tired, my attention was primarily on the path in front of me. I veered right and made sure to sufficiently lift up my feet as I hopped onto a suspension bridge crossing one of the waterways. When next I looked up I realized that there was a fairly large wedding party lined up along the right railing, posing for a photographer poised on the opposite bank preparing to take their picture. Given that I was already upon them, I just kept running. I must have assumed that it would be less of an interruption to quickly pass out of the picture and be on my way than to stop and backtrack and call attention to the fact that they were starting to hold up traffic. Well, apparently that didn’t go over well. “Don’t pictures mean anything around here?” one of the groomsmen jeered as I ran behind them. Umm…
Event #3: I was in the middle of groggily pouring soymilk on my cereal the next morning when I noticed a spider nestled in the cardboard fold of the carton. Surprisingly, he was moving a little bit despite having been in the refrigerator for so long. I also happened to notice that he was missing a leg. Had I scrunched him on a previous morning just as I might have done again? Anyway, with as much wakefully compassionate action as I could muster I tried to shoo the little guy out of the fold so that I could find him a more suitable home. Damned if I didn’t end up mangling one of his remaining legs in the process – an ordeal that seemed to throw cold water on whatever spark of life might have remained in his tiny being. Shit…
Event #4: I took some time off the following Monday in order to finish a multitude of projects that had accumulated around the house – one of which was cutting up some pruned tree limbs and stacking them on the woodpile for a future winter’s day. Since the newly cut firewood needed more time to cure, I set about restacking the entire pile with the more recently cut wood on the bottom. Unfortunately, in the process of doing so I disturbed the nest of a little field mouse that had taken up residence in the void between some of the larger logs. She squeaked in dismay and scurried away as her babies tumbled down amongst the bricks and rubble that I’d stowed away down below. My gut tightened and I quickly set about plucking the tiny pink beings from the nooks and crannies where they lay. Surely they’ll die, I despaired, as I gingerly placed them on a remnant of nesting material anyway. Their eyes were tightly closed and their mouths were still instinctively opening and closing – as if suckling on the mother that was no longer there. She’ll never come back for them after all of this trauma, I lamented. I felt sick…
It seemed to me that the universe, via this seemingly synchronistic sequence of occurrences, was teaching me a lesson. Day after day after day I was the source of negative and potentially life-threatening disruption in the lives of others around me. Day after day after day I was the source of negative karma without even trying to be. But here is the important point: this was the negative karma of which I’d become aware. How much disruption do I cause without ever even knowing it? How much pain and suffering do I create just by going about my day to day life?
Is the hen that laid the eggs that were used in my omelet living a comfortable life, or is she anxious and cramped and merely existing for the sake of my sustenance? Have the material comforts that I enjoy come to me through the hard labor and suffering of others all over the world? What of the people and animals who live next to the oil drills that pump from the ground the crude oil that eventually becomes the gasoline for my car? Are they being adequately compensated for making life so convenient for me? Do they have clean water and land for their crops? Do they have schools and healthcare for their families? What of the migrant workers who pick and process the food that I eat? And what of the people who make all the gadgets and stuff for my amusement and pleasure? What is life like for those who must live amongst the flotsam and jetsam of the dirty manufacturing processes that help to make my life what it is?
My latest brush with synchronicity – whether it be real or imagined – has me thinking about repentance. Repentance is such a strong word, isn’t it? We usually think of someone needing to repent for a crime they’ve committed. If a defendant doesn’t show any remorse, they may get a harsher sentence. If after being incarcerated they still don’t show any remorse, they may not be given parole. Without repentance, we can’t be confidant that they won’t simply go out and commit the same crime yet again. But the same is true for even my accidental indiscretions. Without repentance, what will keep me from simply stumbling through my life unaware, leaving havoc in my wake? I don’t want to go through life causing traffic jams and spoiled memories wherever I go. I don’t want to live in such a way that I cause needless pain and suffering to the people and animals that make my life possible. I want to act, to the best of my ability, with awareness of the results of my actions.
Many Zen practitioners chant what is called the Verse of Repentance as part of their spiritual practice. The Verse of Repentance reminds us that every word, thought, or deed born of ignorance, hatred, or greed (the so-called three poisons) perpetuates existence in this samsaric realm. What goes around comes around, as it is so often said. Thus, just as the convict is denied parole on account of his or her inability to repent their harmful deeds, so we are denied release from our endless cycle of suffering if we cannot bring ourselves to recognize and (hopefully) refrain from repeating all that has brought needless suffering into the world.
Oh, by the way, I checked on those baby mice the following day. They had been removed from the nesting material where I had left them. I am hoping that this means that the mother came back for them and carried them away to a place where they may live out their lives in field mouse heaven!
Photo of field mouse courtesy of NOZO via:
Copyright 2016 by Mark Robert Frank