Surprise
January 26, 2009
Mystery is at the heart of creativity.
That, and surprise. Julia
Cameron
I once spoke to my friend, an old
squirrel, about the Sacraments--he got so
excited and ran into a hollow in his tree and
came back holding some acorns, an owl
feather, and a ribbon he had found. And I
just smiled and said, "Yes, dear, you
understand: everything imparts His
grace." St. Francis of
Assisi
If God invented marathons to keep people
from doing anything more stupid, the
triathlon must have taken Him completely by
surprise. PZ Pearce
There is a beggar who sits on a box, just
outside the gates of a city. The beggar
cannot work and subsists on the charity of
passersby. On this day the beggar receives
no handouts. Finally, one person stops, but
to the disquiet of the beggar the stranger
says that he has nothing to give.
Instead, the stranger asks, "What is that you are sitting on?"
"As you can plainly see," the beggar replies. "It is just an old box. I found it years ago, and have been sitting on it ever since."
"Have you ever looked inside?" the stranger asks.
"No," the beggar replies.
Opening the box, the stranger and the beggar find that the "old box" is, in fact, filled with gold coins, a treasure chest with enough gold for the beggar to live out his remaining days with all of his needs satisfied.
We expect someone or something from outside of us-to change us, fix us, transform us-when the power is with us the entire time.
Just an old box?
And the gold? Was it a surprise for the beggar? Perhaps. Although we don't really know what the beggar did after he realized he was a rich beggar. The story doesn't say. Hopefully he said something more creative than most lottery winners, who all read (or so it seems) from the same mandatory and uninspired script, "I plan to quit my job, buy a new car, travel, and build a new house for my mom."
There is a version of the "box story" in the Gospels. The followers of Jesus expected a Messiah who was eager too kick-a-little-backside and take names later. You know, Messiah as Clint Eastwood, bringing in a kingdom of force and fire, from outside of their world.
That's when Jesus throws them a curve. Jesus asks, "Have you ever looked inside? The kingdom of heaven is within."
This "beggar on the box" is a very old story. And I realize the truth, that life is lived from the inside-out.
Then why do I keep sitting on the box?
What is it I am afraid of?
My hunch? We live in a world that has replaced wonder, awe, appreciation and surprise with mindlessness, consumption and domination. In other words, we have been lulled and numbed.
Is it ego? Fear? Public opinion? Comfort? Or all of the above?
I do know that surprise is a willingness to be fully arrested by the moment.
So when I stay put on top of the box, I short-circuit surprise. I see only what I want to see. I look past this dusty box (of my self and this present moment and the kingdom of heaven within), because I anticipate that there is an answer or solution or experience that lies beyond where I am now, and will come from something other than what I bring with me today. So I give all my energy to pursuing, seeking, chasing, (and even) praying for a life that is elsewhere and otherwise.
This comes at a price.
I am no longer in the present moment.
And my anxiety comes from straining my mind, my yearning for what is about to come and rescue me. Or about what I missed yesterday. Or what I still need to acquire to impress some panel of (unseen and unknown) judges. After all, what will they think? And I am unable to look inside, to open the box upon which I am sitting. To appreciate the treasures of this life I have been given.
I have chosen the appearance of control over the surprise and the messiness of the moment.
I saw a story about a company that let's you "be followed by paparazzi for a day." You hire them and the ultimate package includes bodyguards plus several men (posing as reporters) with camera (yes, of course with flash). The ad showed the effectiveness of their arrangement. As you (or whoever hires this company) walk out of a restaurant (assuming it's not Taco Bell), a group of paparazzi descends, shouting your name, shouting questions about your personal life, all the while camera's flash. You play the part, cover your face, embarrassed or put out, your choice. (Here's the strange part: I'm not making any of this up.) Watching the footage, I see strangers stopping what they are doing to crane and wonder, "Who could it be?" Many take photos of their own, with cameras or their cell phones. Said one passerby, when asked why she stopped to take a picture, "I wanted to see who it was."
"Could you tell?"
"No, I don't know who it was. But I don't care. I wanted her photo. Someday she may be somebody."
Ahhh. So that's life.
We sit on our box.
And we take photos of other people who may, someday, be somebody.
Once asked by an interviewer what he believed to be his greatest gift, Rabbi Abraham Heschel replied, "My ability to be surprised." He got that right.
In his book God in Search of Man, Rabbi Heschel expands the thought, "The root of religion is the question of what to do with the feeling for the mystery of living, what to do with awe, wonder and amazement."
In other words, if there are no unsacred moments, if the reality of God's presence infuses every moment, then I how do we begin to embrace that treasure?
I just spent a week in a country with its share of shortcomings, but hurry is not among them. And I learned a new word: asombrarse, which means, to be amazed. It applies to this early morning. Disfrutar de mi desayuno (enjoying my breakfast) in a restaurant with a patio floor dating back 400 years, cobbled and carrying the whispers of stories ancient and remarkable. I am surrounded by flowers, magenta bougainvillea, and many plants whose names I do not know and cannot grow in Seattle, plants bold, unabashed and arresting. My full day is still ahead of me. Gratefully I do not let my mind go there. I absorb the moment. This moment. In gratitude I open the box to learn that in this moment, there is gold, and that is enough.
"Que quiere?" My waitress asks me.
"Surprise me," I tell her.
NOTE TO MY FRIENDS: Many of you took advantage of the Christmas special. For those who missed the opportunity, but wish to purchase books or CDs / DVDs from the website, we will continue the offer with a discount of 25% off any order until January 31, 2009.
Go to http://www.terryhershey.com
To visit the new Terry Hershey videos.
Go to www.terryhershey
Instead, the stranger asks, "What is that you are sitting on?"
"As you can plainly see," the beggar replies. "It is just an old box. I found it years ago, and have been sitting on it ever since."
"Have you ever looked inside?" the stranger asks.
"No," the beggar replies.
Opening the box, the stranger and the beggar find that the "old box" is, in fact, filled with gold coins, a treasure chest with enough gold for the beggar to live out his remaining days with all of his needs satisfied.
We expect someone or something from outside of us-to change us, fix us, transform us-when the power is with us the entire time.
Just an old box?
And the gold? Was it a surprise for the beggar? Perhaps. Although we don't really know what the beggar did after he realized he was a rich beggar. The story doesn't say. Hopefully he said something more creative than most lottery winners, who all read (or so it seems) from the same mandatory and uninspired script, "I plan to quit my job, buy a new car, travel, and build a new house for my mom."
There is a version of the "box story" in the Gospels. The followers of Jesus expected a Messiah who was eager too kick-a-little-backside and take names later. You know, Messiah as Clint Eastwood, bringing in a kingdom of force and fire, from outside of their world.
That's when Jesus throws them a curve. Jesus asks, "Have you ever looked inside? The kingdom of heaven is within."
This "beggar on the box" is a very old story. And I realize the truth, that life is lived from the inside-out.
Then why do I keep sitting on the box?
What is it I am afraid of?
My hunch? We live in a world that has replaced wonder, awe, appreciation and surprise with mindlessness, consumption and domination. In other words, we have been lulled and numbed.
Is it ego? Fear? Public opinion? Comfort? Or all of the above?
I do know that surprise is a willingness to be fully arrested by the moment.
So when I stay put on top of the box, I short-circuit surprise. I see only what I want to see. I look past this dusty box (of my self and this present moment and the kingdom of heaven within), because I anticipate that there is an answer or solution or experience that lies beyond where I am now, and will come from something other than what I bring with me today. So I give all my energy to pursuing, seeking, chasing, (and even) praying for a life that is elsewhere and otherwise.
This comes at a price.
I am no longer in the present moment.
And my anxiety comes from straining my mind, my yearning for what is about to come and rescue me. Or about what I missed yesterday. Or what I still need to acquire to impress some panel of (unseen and unknown) judges. After all, what will they think? And I am unable to look inside, to open the box upon which I am sitting. To appreciate the treasures of this life I have been given.
I have chosen the appearance of control over the surprise and the messiness of the moment.
I saw a story about a company that let's you "be followed by paparazzi for a day." You hire them and the ultimate package includes bodyguards plus several men (posing as reporters) with camera (yes, of course with flash). The ad showed the effectiveness of their arrangement. As you (or whoever hires this company) walk out of a restaurant (assuming it's not Taco Bell), a group of paparazzi descends, shouting your name, shouting questions about your personal life, all the while camera's flash. You play the part, cover your face, embarrassed or put out, your choice. (Here's the strange part: I'm not making any of this up.) Watching the footage, I see strangers stopping what they are doing to crane and wonder, "Who could it be?" Many take photos of their own, with cameras or their cell phones. Said one passerby, when asked why she stopped to take a picture, "I wanted to see who it was."
"Could you tell?"
"No, I don't know who it was. But I don't care. I wanted her photo. Someday she may be somebody."
Ahhh. So that's life.
We sit on our box.
And we take photos of other people who may, someday, be somebody.
Once asked by an interviewer what he believed to be his greatest gift, Rabbi Abraham Heschel replied, "My ability to be surprised." He got that right.
In his book God in Search of Man, Rabbi Heschel expands the thought, "The root of religion is the question of what to do with the feeling for the mystery of living, what to do with awe, wonder and amazement."
In other words, if there are no unsacred moments, if the reality of God's presence infuses every moment, then I how do we begin to embrace that treasure?
I just spent a week in a country with its share of shortcomings, but hurry is not among them. And I learned a new word: asombrarse, which means, to be amazed. It applies to this early morning. Disfrutar de mi desayuno (enjoying my breakfast) in a restaurant with a patio floor dating back 400 years, cobbled and carrying the whispers of stories ancient and remarkable. I am surrounded by flowers, magenta bougainvillea, and many plants whose names I do not know and cannot grow in Seattle, plants bold, unabashed and arresting. My full day is still ahead of me. Gratefully I do not let my mind go there. I absorb the moment. This moment. In gratitude I open the box to learn that in this moment, there is gold, and that is enough.
"Que quiere?" My waitress asks me.
"Surprise me," I tell her.
NOTE TO MY FRIENDS: Many of you took advantage of the Christmas special. For those who missed the opportunity, but wish to purchase books or CDs / DVDs from the website, we will continue the offer with a discount of 25% off any order until January 31, 2009.
Go to http://www.terryhershey.com
To visit the new Terry Hershey videos.
Go to www.terryhershey
Poems / Prayers
Song--Beggar on a Beach of Gold by Mike and the Mechanics
www.tsrocks.com/
If God Invited You To A Party
If God
Invited you to a party
And said,
"Everyone
In the ballroom tonight
Will be my special
Guest,"
How would you treat them
When you
Arrived?
Indeed, indeed!
And Hafiz knows
There is no one in this world
Who
Is not upon
His Jeweled Dance
Floor.
Hafiz
Dear Lord,
grant me the grace of wonder.
Surprise me, amaze me,
awe me in every crevice of Your universe.
Delight me to see how Your Christ plays in ten thousand places
to the Father through the features of men's faces.
Each day enrapture me with Your marvelous things without number.
I do not ask to see the reason for it all;
I ask only to share the wonder of it all.
Amen.
Rabbi Joshua Abraham Heschel
Peace,
Terry Hershey
