Barefoot Monk

Today, I made a conscious effort to soak up in the present.  In absorbing the environment on my way to yoga class, I walked too slowly and missed my bus. Undeterred by the blip in my schedule, I focused patiently on my surroundings: a little school girl with pink eyeglasses, an old lady with her grocery bags, a man waiting with a newspaper under his arm.  It seemed that they were all unfrazzled by the bus that took its time to roll slowly along our stop.

As I got on the bus, I made eye contact with the old driver, nodding with a smile for his service. Then, I made my way toward an empty row behind a Buddhist monk in orange robe.  As we rolled to each stop, I tried to look at the passengers getting down the bus, guessing at their next destination.

Then, a funny thing happened.  The monk stood up at the next stop, and as I saw him alight the bus, I noticed he was barefoot! I immediately thought, “hey, you forgot your shoes!” He seemed to guess at my thoughts as he held my gaze, without emotion or judgement, as if to say: “I have everything I need.”

In those brief seconds, I was stunned about how he appeared so composed in his austere appearance, reminding me that possessions are not needed to live a full life.

Had I not been mindful of my fellow-passengers on bus 32, I might have missed out on Barefoot Monk.  Too often I get caught up on satisfying my needs that I forget to stop and figure out whether they are actual needs, and not wants.

Thank you, barefoot monk!

It Doesn’t Matter

I’ve been practicing yoga for a month now and it surprises me how my lazy resistance seems to diminish with each class I attend.  Getting to know the benefits and philosophy behind the practice has made me disregard my primary motive for doing yoga, which is to lose weight. Somehow, over the weeks, being in that room, communing with myself and my body has made me appreciate myself even more, in spite of the grunts and struggle to reach my toes (which incidentally I still can’t do on straight knees).  Coming out of every class feels wonderful, like catching up with a longtime friend.

Being married brings me to that same conclusion as well, for in the beginning, you tend to have a set of standards for your partner. However, as time passes, you begin to ammend those things because you realize helplessly, that you fall in love even more deeply with the many things your partner is not.  Journeying in this life together is the reason and not marriage itself; being together is the source of your contentment – all those extras like travelling the world, and eating at expensive restaurants are just accessories to that experience.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around the insight of a wise friend who told me: “at one point it doesn’t matter what kind of work you do because at the end of the day, if you do your work well and offer it to God, then you will have found meaning”.  I wonder if this is completely true. I’ve been a victim of career identity crisis during the first quarter of my life.  I always thought that knowing the right career match was the primary step to a fulfilling and happy work experience.  Perhaps if I were told “it doesnt matter”, then I would stress less and just focus a bit more on learning and growing in my job and eventually come out of it knowing myself and my destiny better.  And perhaps no experience would ever be wasted because it brings you closer to your meaning and destiny.

Disenchanted

Events in the recent week can be summarized in this word. Today’s reading reminded me about how, in the eyes of faith, it is necessary to experience a let down because it leads us to ask an all-important life question – WHY?

As rational creatures, we tend to question disappointments and heartaches when they affect us deeply.  I now see that this is an important ingredient in the process of deepening my faith. It is easy to overlook or take for granted the significance of certain elements if  they had conveniently become a part of my life.

Yes I am guilty of being impatient, of feeling indignant when things don’t go as I expect, of feeling panicked when thrust out of my comfort zone, but I am grateful too for these shocking moments that lead me to question, to probe, and to believe.