It was 1985, I was thirty-five, a new volunteer with RESULTS, an advocacy organization committed to ending hunger and poverty. I jumped in feet first, determined to make a difference, though I knew nothing about poverty, Congress or how a bill was passed. Something I couldn’t name was driving me to be a change agent in the world.
Last week I received this email from a blog follower. It gave me pause.
I’ve emailed you about this before, but apparently, I’ve not made my point well enough since you continue sending out the same tired list of things that people can do…”
In the mornings, I meditate in my bedroom—actually I meditate in my bedroom closet. There is just enough room on the floor between my dresses, blouses, and hiking boots, to roll out my yoga mat, sit cross-legged on my meditation pillow and close my eyes. This morning there was a dog. A real dog outside my window, not a dog in my imagination.
The Buddhists talk about beginner’s mind. Travelers take to the road and begin to see the most mundane things as a big adventure. New lovers move in slow motion and when they lift their heads it seems that everyone is smiling. Curiosity, wonder, and undoing make for fresh. Make for aliveness. Make for magic.
Kudos for Max. It takes a kind of chutzpah to intentionally unbalance yourself, to forsake the familiar and the comfortable.