Meditation Day 2: Crash

“You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. Matthew 5:43-48

Today’s Reading: Matthew 5-7

Yesterday was an interesting day.

As some of you know I am a big fan of public transportation. I have been working in downtown LA for several years now and have relied exclusively on buses and trains to get me down there. Besides saving money I feel that riding the metro exposes me to a totally different Los Angeles. 

It is a true melting pot where business executives may sit next to the homeless, kids in skinny jeans stand chatting above single mothers with their children, gangsters bump elbows with law enforcement and military veterans. The metro has finally become part of the major veins and arteries to the heart of downtown.

There was a movie called Crash that came out several years ago. It was about Los Angeles and what happens when we are forced out of the bubbles of our manicured lawns and single passenger cars through chance interactions with other people. These types of crashes don’t typically happen on the metro, if not for any other reason than that everyone on the train voluntarily left their bubbles when they decided to take public transportation.

But yesterday there was such a crash, and I was right in the middle of the intersection where it happened.

I got on the Gold Line train to Pasadena arrived at union station at around six o’clock in the evening. I was tired and feeling drained and my back was hurting from sitting too long in a chair that is a bit too small. Because of how I felt I was highly motivated to find a seat. Before the trains come, experienced riders strategically place themselves on the platform where they expect the doors to open. It is a tricky mixture of politeness and gamesmanship; so sophisticated that new riders would never notice.

I stood more often than not the first several weeks I rode this train.

I arrived at the platform several minutes before the train so I was in an ideal position to hold down a prime spot. I chose the last door of the last train as I knew that there were two isolated seats facing each other at the end. I enjoy reading on the train and these seats are the best for that endeavor.

By the time the train came the platform was packed, but I didn’t mind. My strategic positioning paid off. I was one of the first three people on the already almost full car. I found my ideal seat, sat and opened my book. My back felt better, I felt better; life was grand.

There was a dude standing right above me holding the hand rail. He seemed like a current or reformed gangster of some sort but he was a nice fellow. We exchanged nodding hellos and I carried on about the business of reading my book.

Two stops later a disturbance occurred.

The doors opened and this loud exceptionally rude man entered the train. By now it was so full that it would be hard for anyone to walk the isles without the obligatory “excuses me” and “pardon me” with each step. But there were a few things different about this man.

He had no manners, offered no apologies, and he was blind.

Yep… dude was blind. He was the “cane with a red tip” kind of blind. Obviously everyone tried to help him wade through the crowd because it was impossible to navigate, even for the sighted, but he wasn’t having it. He literally screamed at every attempt to help. “Don’t tell me where to go I can figure it out!” Of course the fact that there literally was nowhere to go without help escaped him. So he pushed and shoved and tapped and elbowed his way through the perplexed crowd, stepping on several shoes and kicking even more shins. He passed the handicapped seats and headed to the end of the train where the gangster dude and I were.

As the young blind man reached us he slammed into dude so hard that it dislodged him from where he was standing. My man tried to help him by guiding him in the right direction.

“HANDS OFF! DON’T TOUCH ME! I KNOW WHERE I’M GOING.”

To which old buddy responded, “no you don’t… I’m just trying to help you.”

The blind man took a short break from bickering with the alleged gangster to punk me out of my seat.

“CAN I HAVE THIS SEAT!” he demanded.

Presented with the dilemma of protecting my manhood against the challenge of a blind man I decided to get up and let him have the seat.

Rude Blind Man: 1

Manhood and Pride: 0

I stood up and gave him my seat, careful not to tell him where it was because after all, he can see right...?

After bumbling around for a spell he figured it out and sat down. He then continued to fight with the annoyed man standing above him. They exchanged barbs for the better part of ten minutes while the other riders listened on. The gangsterish dude commented on how the blind man must be bitter about life because of how rude he was. The blind man retorted that he wasn’t bitter; as a matter of fact he is happy with his life. He has the best life ever.

More than a few of us were skeptical about the truth behind his words.

The conversation degenerated into terribleness on both sides. The only reason why they didn’t physically fight is because the same pride that made the sighted fellow stand up for himself against the blind dude is the same pride that would not allow him to beat the jerk to within an inch of his life.

The cold part about it is that the blind guy knew it… he used his blindness to bully everyone around him.

It was the strangest of sights. After about two or three minutes of trying to focus on my book I thought for a minute… maybe I’m supposed to learn something here. So I started listening and reflecting on what was happening. I’m still thinking about it but I did realize a few things.

Both the blind man and the irritated, sighted fellow were playing the same part in the same play. Both were bullies in their own right. The blind man used his blindness to command control on all of those around him. He used the pity that so offended him when folks tried to help against those very same people. When the perturbed, sighted fellow fought back he in turn verbally bullied the blind man as much as he could since he could not rain blows upon his countenance.

Finally the sighted fellow stopped as his rage dissipated enough to realize the pattern. He wanted to exit the play.

But the blind man wouldn’t let him. He continued to talk trash to him; and when he no longer got a response, he got on his phone and started loudly talking to some person on the other side about this rude jerk standing next to him and how he had prevailed over him in the recent struggle.

It was quite unbelievable.

From my front row seat I thought about who was right and who was wrong. I guess more accurately, about who was more right and who was more wrong. I sympathized with the sighted fellow. He was rudely bumped into. When he tried to help he was verbally abused by a man who comfortably hid behind his handicap. It seemed to me that it was an injustice that was unbearably foul. I understood why he fought back.

But he was wrong too. He shouldn’t have answered the call to arms. He should have just inoculated himself with love to ward off the blind man’s venom.

Or so I thought. I really don’t know.

That’s what I thought I was doing when I gave up my seat but maybe I just punked out. It’s not like the blind man couldn’t walk. Why was it any more difficult for him to stand than it was for me? He could hold on to the rail just like I did. But he shamed me out of my seat. I didn’t want to be the jerk on the train that wouldn’t give his seat to a blind man. There’s no way that looks right.

In the end I was happy that I didn’t take the blind man’s invitation to the drama of his life. It was as sad a display of humanity as it was maddeningly complex. I am convinced that turning the other cheek was the right move here. Even the furious fellow who decided to fight with him ended up doing the same, at a higher cost to his pride.

It’s just annoying that some people push us to these extremes.

Today’s Meals:

Breakfast: 3 scrambled eggs

Snack: Mixed roasted nuts

Lunch: Home grilled chicken thighs and green beans (leftovers)

Snack: More nuts

Dinner: Pan seared rare albacore tuna and green beans

Beverage of the day… Water

Truthaholics Anonymous

Jesus said, "For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind."

Some Pharisees who were with him heard him say this and asked, "What? Are we blind too?"

Jesus said, "If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains. – John 9:39-41

Today’s Reading: 1 Chronicles 28-29; John 9:24-41

I was once like the Pharisees.

I thought that I could see everything, understand all the mysteries of the universe, solve any problem. I was addicted to pursuing truth. I was a truthaholic.

It’s amazing to look back and see how arrogant I was.

I know I have said this in the past but there really is so much we can learn when we accept that we know nothing at all.

Have you ever had to make a brochure, presentation, or document that would be seen by many important people? I’m sure that after your initial design effort you reviewed it over and over again to check for any stupid spelling errors or mistakes.

But what happened when you showed it to someone else?

They were probably able to quickly identify an area of improvement… something that you could not see.

Many times we look at life through stale eyes. Our eyes are made stale by our experiences, hopes, dreams, disappointments and accomplishments. The more we live and rely on what we think we know the more our vision is skewed by the prism of our experience.

We become blinded by subjectivity.

When you think about it, this is where judgment comes from. We look at others through the lens of our own experience and apply our rules and regulations to their conduct.

But this lens has a blind spot. Just like how you couldn’t see the glaring error in the project you were working on, we have a hard time seeing the glaring flaws in the lives we are living.

As Jesus suggested, we point out the splinters in another person’s eye but cannot see the planks in our own.

This is how I understand the passage above. We have a tendency to fall into the trap of worshiping our own minds by thinking that our own perspective is truth.

I believe that truth, like God, is a concept too great to comprehend. I used to seek it out but not any more.

That’s above my pay grade.

My name is Clarence Mitchell and am a truthaholic. Finally, I see that I know nothing.

Twitter Rant: 06-06-10

06-06-10 11:51 pm

I am starting to realize some things.

We tend to look at life through the prism of our own understanding, this is problematic.

Our individual perspectives are mere dots on the surface of single grains of sand on the vast shores of wisdom.

we assume that we know all and in this assumption we become blind to the truth.

it is only when we realize that we know nothing that our vision clears enough to reveal the truth.

and that truth is so impossibly grand that we can't help but to be humble before it.

An Open Letter: So That We Might See

As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"

"Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life. – John 9: 1-3

Today’s Reading: 1 Chronicles 25-27: John 9:1-23

Dear Jesus,

First of all I want to say thank you for giving me my vison. The mud thing was pretty dramatic… but yeah man… thanks a lot.

Now… I don’t mean to sound ungrateful… but you said that I was blind so that the work of God might be displayed in my life. That doesn’t make sense to me. Ok yes what you did was super impressive but man, I went through my whole childhood blind as a bat! I’ve had to beg for money my entire adult life because I had no means or wherewithal to provide a living for myself.

The “why” that you gave your disciples I’m sure works for them. But to keep it real with you, it doesn’t work for me. This is MY life that you are talking about here! Where were you all these years when I was starving, ridiculed, ashamed, vulnerable, and taken advantage of? Where were you huh?

Sigh…

Ok… I just had to get that off my chest. But you gotta understand me here. It just doesn’t make any sense. Why would I have to suffer all of the hardship that I suffered so that your followers could learn a lesson? It just doesn’t seem fair.

Please help me understand.

Sincerely,

Your thankful servant.

My son,

I am sorry that you feel the way that you do and I will do my best to help you understand; but first I must ask you a few questions.

What is fair? How do you judge what is and what is not fair? Are your struggles yours alone? How did you make it all of these years? Were you loved?

I am love and I work through love. I never left you and I will always be with you. How did you feel when you received the caring touch from your mother or could hear the warm smile in the heart of your father when he spoke of you? Who was it that provided alms for you when you were hungry? Who looked out for you when you could not look out for yourself? Who guided your steps when you could not see the stumbling blocks in your path? Who reached down to help you when you fell?

It was I this whole time for I am love. When people act in love they are connected with the divine. It is hard for many people to learn to love because they only see what they want to see. So I sent them one who could not see to show them what they have been unable to see.

Through your blindness you taught the world to love; not only those who raised you, who knew you, and who saw you, but also all of those who will come after you for millennia. The fact that you grew up and lived to the age that you were when I encountered you is a testimony of the love that humanity is capable of.

It is only through love that a blind child can grow to be a man.

So I am sorry son for the sacrifice that you feel you have made but know that you are one of the great teachers of the ages. The greatest teachers are those who teach others how to love.

And you my friend succeeded at that; greatly.

Sincerely,

J.