Where Life Is

 

 I had one of those frustrating days yesterday when my laptop and I disagreed on how it should be working. Talking to it did no good; begging was humiliating; and prayer didn't seem like an appropriate way to handle such a technical predicament (although I will confess that I used it anyway--even though I suspect that God probably doesn't regard such a thing as a priority in the world of human spiritual needs).
     I worked all day on it trying to get things back to "normal." I performed the usual system restore and disk cleanup and a few other computer incantations. But, alas, to no avail. I was left with the last resort effort of restoring my hard drive to the original factory settings, which, as many of you know, means that your files won't be saved--they will go to whatever mysterious realm old files go when they suddenly disappear.
     I'm happy to say that by the end of the day I was back in business. The old "all's well that ends well" adage had graciously applied to my situation. As a result, I had a peaceful night's sleep, thinking more highly of myself than I probably ought to have thought (paraphrasing the words of St. Paul in his letter to the church in Rome). All in all, it was a very satisfying result after a time of great frustration.
     Several years ago I did a program at the Pinelands (formerly Mt. Misery) with Gwen White (wife of one of our former bishops, C. Dale White). While we were setting up, we were talking about the fact that we both often refer to sources beyond United Methodist and Christian materials in general when we prepare to lead workshops. That discussion was very liberating for me personally to hear someone I deeply respected so much admit to that. And several years after that I was in correspondence with Bishop Reuben Job regarding a spiritual life center he was proposing in Nashville--also implying the use of some nontraditional resources. At the time,I had an interest in possibly being a part of that.
     So yesterday when I was going through what might have been an extremely frustrating time, I referred to one of my favorite non-Christian thinkers and writers--Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk. He talks about the perspective of "Being Here Now." In other words, be very present in the task or event in which you are engaged at the moment. When you do that, you do so with a nonjudgmental and even appreciative attitude. 
     If it's something fun, your attentiveness to the experience magnifies it with a greater sense of joy. If it's something frustrating, you see it as just what is and not as a curse of some kind.  Therefore you go about it as one of life's peculiar puzzles. As Thich Nhat Hanh says, when you do that, whatever you're doing, you are living life mindfully in the only moment you actually have at the time--the present moment. 
     In other words, if you're preparing dinner, be present in the experience of that. Be mindful of the task as a meaningful and important part of life and not as a terrible chore you have to carry out. And when you sit down to eat, be mindful of the pleasure of the food before you. 
     Anyway, the point is that as John Denver has sung, "Some Days Are Diamonds, Some Days Are Stone."  But both kinds of days are legitimately life. And as such are meant to be experienced, I believe, for what they are--in the present moment. By the way, that's where true peace exists and joy and love.