Acceptance

At one time I worked for a factory owned by a big corporation. I was in charge of making sure production goals were met each month. Everyone in the factory knew my name. I was the one they would come to when trouble brewed. I could be counted on. People called me mister and sir.

I considered myself an expert on strength of character. I insisted on personally interviewing every job candidate. I was the one who decided who to hire. I chose how much to pay them. I determined the benefits each of the employees would receive.

Often times those whom I hired proved unsuccessful in achieving the promise I had seen in them during the interrogation process. I put it off not to my unenlightened way of winnowing the truth from these unfortunates but rather to a flaw so fundamental in their moral fiber that it could not be foreseen by the more upstanding individuals of society such as me.

Like an executioner I immediately discharged those who didn’t perform to my expectations, never considering for even a moment the ramifications of my actions. I couldn’t accept that I had been mistaken in hiring them in the first place. I told myself that they had lied to me. Rather than seeing a basic goodness in people I began to believe that almost everyone was inherently flawed. I wondered how all these folk could be so stupid.

I spent my days forcing my life into being what I thought it should be. I demanded obedience from everyone and everything. I was important. I kept myself up at night worrying about what would happen tomorrow. I never dreamed. I was living the dream. I bought a fine expensive house on the lakefront. I bought wonderfully comfortable furniture. I bought two new shiny cars. I worked sixteen hour days to pay for it all.

My health began to suffer. My stomach hurt, just once in a while at first, but then more and more often until it troubled me constantly. I drank gallons of milk hoping to soothe my gut and its ragings but it only mollified the pain for a moment.

One day—I don’t remember exactly when—my wife left home and never returned. When she called me on the phone a few days later she said she didn’t know me. She said her feelings had changed. She said she no longer loved me. She said she wasn’t sure if she even liked me. She said she had found someone else, someone who had the time for her that I lacked.

I looked around for the children to perhaps find solace in their company but I discovered they had all grown up and gone off to live their lives in the style they chose. They were married with children of their own. I wondered when all that had happened. Apparently, I had been away for years without ever knowing I was gone.

I realized I didn’t know me either. Somehow I had gotten sidetracked. I couldn’t quite recall the moment, though. I wondered about it all a good deal. I decided I didn’t quite like the person I’d become either. But unlike my wife and children, I couldn’t leave me. As I stood looking out of the kitchen window I saw pinkish-white orange blossom petals raining from the trees growing in the back yard collecting like velvet snow beneath them. I knew instinctively that I must have witnessed the sight before but it wasn’t until that moment that I woke up to the beauty.

So I quit my high-pressure job. I accepted a lowly job as a custodian in a store where I used to buy my expensive suits and have them tailored to fit me. I sold my fine house. I let the new cars go back. I gave away the comfortable furniture. I got back my nights. I began to dream again. By being low and humble I accepted the flow of life.

My health returned. I realized for the first time how pleasant it is to sit in the early spring sunshine. I’d spent a lifetime staring out of windows at the beautiful days passing me by one by precious one. Now I revel in the light.

Rather than instilling fear in others to rule them, I lavish praise above all. Instead of seeing their ignorance, I witness their glories under heaven. By understanding I alone am flawed I acknowledge my disgrace respectfully. I understand now my crime: by confusing the instincts of nature I sought to legislate compassion, by going to excess in the performance of my duties I left many others broken and injured in my wake.

By accepting the work no one else sees fit to do I keep myself humble and close to the center. By emptying my heart of desire the flow of life shines more brightly on this bitter valley of these representations we mistake for experience. Before the naming I see the mystery for what it is not and not for what it is.

The mysterious gate into experience is devoid of all sensations, emotions, and thoughts. It is to return to the state of being an empty vessel.

This is the way of heaven.

The way is covered by a cloud of knowing which few can see through.

By accepting I make use of this empty vessel.

It will never fill.