KISSING THE WORLD

Do you ever wish you knew “The Secret” to connecting with others and yourself more joyfully?

 

“And
For no reason
I start skipping like a child…

And
For every reason in existence
I begin to eternally,
To eternally laugh and love!”
– Hafiz

I have come to the monastery as a pilgrimage, as I know it is a place of solace for many.
At compline, the evening service following vespers, the monks are chanting, the churchgoers bowing and singing along.
I don’t know the words to the songs.
I have the compline book in front of me and try to follow but feel like a line dancer on a brightly lit floor, always two moves behind.
Fortunately, most of the monks don’t make eye contact with me. Maybe if I hadn’t noticed this, I’d be keeping up…

A monk I meet later in the hallway invites me to stay at the monastery for supper, then attend the rosary service. Why not?

I learn that the monk’s name is Brother Rene. He sits in the back of the room with me, guiding me as I slip rosary beads through my hands. I struggle to concentrate as I visualize my rosary beads coming off the string, bouncing and clattering among the pews as the devout struggle to maintain their focus.

The monk, perhaps sensing my anxiety, shepherds me to the rosary library. When this man of faith asks about my faith, I nervously tell him I grew up a spiritual mutt. With a Jewish father and a Christian mother, when given the chance to go to Sunday school or play baseball with friends on weekends, I chose baseball.

He laughs and says quickly, “I love talking with Jews! I’m sure you know, Jesus was a Jew.”

I tell him I feel out of place because I haven’t been to Sunday school and know I haven’t “paid my dues.”

He says, “I’m really glad you brought that up, because that’s what the rules say. ‘Oh, you need to go to Sunday school.’ But Jesus didn’t follow those rules…The most important thing is that you really let love live in your heart.”

As we continue talking of love and life, he tells me that from the time that he could remember, his only dream was to get married and have a big family. But then, while he was waiting for that to happen, he was really unhappy.

“And I got the clear intuition that I should go to the monastery. So I came here, and that was fifty-seven years ago. From the moment I took my final vows, I was extremely happy and have been so happy ever since. I realize that I did get married; I do have a huge family. It was just a different marriage than I expected.”

I watch the 80-year-old man as we speak. He is soft-spoken, hard of hearing but given to fits of hearty laughter, tears of joy filling his eyes.

The monk, who many call a saint, often laughs like a child as we sit, talking, knee to knee, in the rosary library.

He tells me a tale.

“One day I was out amid some daffodils on a grassy knoll and I thought to pray.

“You know how daffodils do?” he asks as he bobs his head up and down. “Suddenly, I rose up from my prayers and began to dance.
I danced with the daffodils.

“I was really careful not to crush any of them.
And for about twenty minutes, I danced with these daffodils.

“As I was leaving, walking down this grassy knoll, I heard this voice say, ‘Thank you for sharing your joy with me.’

“I kinda looked around like Excuse me?
Who said that? And I realized it was the voice of God thanking me.”

“Can you imagine? Me. Nobody. God was speaking to me.”

I realize the Brother’s humility also helps keep him so happy.

Living in a state of love for everything; that is the joyous state, I think. Yet there is more; something that evokes his joy I cannot name.

“Every interaction, it is just God and me,” the Brother tells me. “Even talking with you now, it is God and me talking.”

I suddenly remember Hafiz, who wrote:
“Start seeing everything as God,
But keep it a secret.”

Here it is: The Secret revealed.

***

One year later, I have the chance to gift the Brother a photograph of daffodils.

Though ill now with two types of cancer and “ready to go” –as he believes this will be the best journey yet –he looks at the photograph, bobs his head up and down again, and beams.

 “This is more than a gift,” he says. “It will allow me to continue the dance…”

When I leave the monastery, I feel something new and different. I feel joy in my heart; my spirit feels light, almost childlike.

I remember something the Brother told me as we sat knee to knee in his rosary library:
“I believe the true purpose of the spiritual path is to return you, at your own will, to a childlike state.”

Thank you, Brother. I, too, will continue your dance…

 

On our path to joy, what if we really embraced these, danced with them, indefinitely…?

1. “The most important thing is that you really let love live in your heart.”
2. “Living in a state of love for everything; that is the joyous state.”
3. “I believe the true purpose of the spiritual path is to return you, at your own will, to a childlike state.”

***

Jillian Robinson is a Certified High Performance Coach whose passion is to help people live their best selves with the consistentfeelings of full engagement, joy and confidence. She loves to interview and coach changemakers and parents committed to positively impact young peoples’ lives. Her vision is that, someday, personal development will be taught as commonly as math and science. When you participate in her programs, you become part of that positive change.