Day Thirteen

Years ago, in the days before EZ Pass, I was driving on the Gratigny Parkway in South Florida.  It was in the final days of my first ministry there as I was preparing to move to PA and start WellSprings.  My life felt like it was contained in a series of boxes.  My mind always seemed to be six steps ahead of where I was. Lots of racing here and there.  Saying good-bye. Looking ahead.  Sadness.  Excitement.  Anxiety.

As I pulled in to pay a toll, I absent-mindedly put my hand out with my fare.  "And how are you today?" asked a genuinely warm voice inside the booth.  I looked to the side, and smiling back at me was the toll booth operator, her face broad  and bright with a  kind smile. I answered her honestly, "Well, I'm distracted, to tell you the truth.  Having a hard time telling which end is up."

She nodded, "Yep, one of those days. We all have them."  Not taking her eyes off mine, she made change for my bills and then, with all the lovingkindness of a parent cradling a baby, said, "Listen, you take care  of yourself, you hear?" and reached out of her window and into mine, and gave my arm a little squeeze.

I just about cried from the compassion.   Before I drove off, I said, "I can't thank you enough.  And you do the same."

Her kindness to me, a stranger, was a wake up call in that moment.  Simultaneously, I felt how stressed I was and how fast I was moving, and, underneath it all, how the blessing of love and connection was still there.  Our paths will probably never cross again, but I remain grateful to her to this day.

In Buddhist Metta practice, lovingkindness meditation, there are a series of repeated affirmations, orientations of the heart, that we direct to ourselves and others, including people whose presence we may be likely to ignore or pass over. There are variations of those words, one of which is this:

May you live in safety.
May you be happy.
May you be healthy.
May you live with ease and well-being.

I have no idea if the toll taker had done Metta practice that day.  But she touched me with her lovingkindness.  Indeed, she made me feel that she was happy and grateful to see me even though she didn't know me at all.

Today, how can you practice gratitude for the presence of someone you don't know well at all?  As they approach you, or you them, maybe say these words of lovingkindness to yourself silently.  Cultivating this attitude, how do you find you are more grateful for their presence?  For what they do, and for who they are?

Today,

May you live in safety.
May you be happy.
May you be healthy.
May you live with ease and well-being.

--Ken