LEARNING TO BE OPEN

One of the great values of opening up my heart is the feeling that comes of being connected to people and to the universe. What follows is the feeling that everything is being taken care of—that God or Mother Nature or Whateveryouwanttocallit is functioning through me. Because the more I open up and let things in, the more I am letting the Creator in—the Force that is running things. The more I do this, the more I let go of trying to control the universe, the easier things get.

The less I feel the need to run things, the more time I have for what is really important—basic things like breathing. Before, when I was busy with "something" every minute of the day, I would sometimes actually forget to breathe! It was my mother who used to remind me: "Take a minute and breathe." And so I would. Now it is my wife. Sometimes, believe it or not, I am actually capable of reminding myself! I am using breathing as somewhat of a metaphor here, meaning that breathing is another word for self-discovery. So, whenever I have these moments when I am willing to give up control, I open myself up to the possibility of learning something new. Perhaps one of the first and most important things I have learned is that I never really had control to begin with. It’s that other thing called God or The Laws of Nature that is in control.

Interestingly enough, I don’t even have to believe in God or Whateveryouwanttocallit. I don’t have to join any sort of group or attend church or even think of myself as religious, to find that God is working for me. Basically, there is nothing I have to do. Or, to say it in a different way, I have to do nothing. It is all being done for me. My life is being lived for me. It is true that it is me that is doing the living—but it also is NOT me. It is Whateveryouwanttocallit being me or playing me. If I can just keep this wacky thought in mind, at least part of the time, then I think life can actually be fun—and easy.

It is this lesson that I have been learning—over and over again—my whole life. It is one of the underlying messages in my book Beneath Buddha’s Eyes. When the main character, Peter Hill, finds himself at the end of his rope—he seeks refuge in a Buddhist temple—a young monk hands him a plate with a single leaf on it. Peter’s natural instinct, is to complicate things, to question whether the leaf is for contemplation or what and what its significance might be. But, after his mind is completely blown by exhausting himself with endless thoughts about what a leaf on a plate can possibly mean, he eats it! He finally loses control. Peter reaches the point where he can no longer figure out for himself what to do, so it is at that moment that some basic God-given human instinct takes over for him—lunch.