Last month I shared my journey to make peace with my day
after my car broke down 'beyond Hope'. While this experience was a perfect
opportunity to demonstrate mastery over my mental and emotional bodies, there
is more to the story.
The evening prior to my trip to Kelowna I shared a meal with friends. At one point during the evening the conversation shifted to each
of us expressing dismay and disapproval about "the kind of person" who would
attend the 'ultimate fighting competition' to be held the following day in
Vancouver. 'Ultimate Fighting' is a newly evolving 'sport' where combatants
face one another in an octagonal cage and are permitted to use any tactic or
strategy to overpower their opponent.
Each of us lamented at the lack of humanity and the crude
brutality of the event. We freely opined on the kind of person who would
attend such an event. Most of our comments were judgmental, derogatory, and
dismissive. The conversation might easily be summed up by Eckhart Tolle's
expression - "We've arrived (at higher consciousness), sorry you haven't."
The next day was the event I shared in my July newsletter -
traveling to Kelowna, sunroof open, sun shining, my favourite music playing and
then the 'check engine' light coming on. About one hour after I flagged down a
passing motorist a tow truck arrived. My car was winched onto the flat bed and
we headed into Hope. The tow truck operator delivered my disabled
car and I to a small, one-man repair shop at the edge of town.
As I stood at the entrance of the garage and peered inside
the dim and dirty workplace I noticed a man with well-worn hands and grease
smeared across face poking and prodding the bowels of a large
pick-up truck raised on the hoist. Hanging on each side of the pick-up's four
corners were large, over sized tires. Anxiously peering under the vehicle was the vehicle's owner - a young man.
What I gathered from their conversation is the youth had
just invested thousands of dollars in a new transmission only to notice fluid
spewing out the back of his pride and joy on his initial run. Disheartened and
discouraged he gingerly drove his vehicle into this same shop to have the source of the
leak repaired.
The youth and I shared a common bond. We were both at the
mercy of this unknown mechanic. The bond of our shared experience drew us
together. The young man described his frustration at having only just
picked up his vehicle from the transmission specialist earlier that morning, and his
concern he would miss his intended rendezvous with a friend in Vancouver.
"What takes you to Vancouver?" I inquired. "My buddy and I are off to the
'ultimate fighting competition." he replied.
I laughed inwardly at the synchronicity of the universe,
hearing my own judgments repeated in my mind from the previous evening's
conversation. It was not lost on me that I had declared, more a statement of
judgment than genuine curiousity, "What kind of person would go to the UFC
event?" The universe, it seems, had decided to honour my request.
Eventually the mechanic performed his magic and the monster
truck was ready for the highway. While the young man cleaned himself
up I consulted on the status of my own fate. The mechanic
explained there were no parts available in this small town to repair my
vehicle. It would take a few days before the repairs could be completed. The best news was the young man was headed to the fighting venue located just two blocks from my
home. I ran to the driver's side window of the departing vehicle and asked the young man if he would
give me a lift back to Vancouver.
During our two-hour journey I decided to wade into
the topic of the previous evening's conversation. "What motivates you to attend this
event?" I inquired with as much neutrality as I could muster. The young man
shared the following story.
"My best friend is in Vancouver. He's being cared
for in an extended care facility. Two months ago we were swimming in a local
lake and my friend dived into an area that was too shallow. The impact with the
ground caused a severing of his spinal cord. He's paralyzed from the neck
down." the young man explained as he wiped tears from his eyes. "I haven't seen him
since the accident. I called him and said I wanted to visit him and asked what
he would like to do while I was there. It was his wish to attend the ultimate
fighting competition."
I was struck silent by the power and yet tenderness of the
young man's story. And in a moment all of my judgments and assumptions about
"the kind of person who would attend such an event" were shattered. It wasn't
the violence and crassness of the competition he desired. It was his wish to honour the request of his wounded friend that was the motivation
behind his actions.
The universe had skillfully reflected back to me a mirror of
my own unconsciousness and lack of compassion; my own violence and crassness.
And in that moment I was grateful for this lesson in my journey to become a
consistently loving and peaceful human being.
In peace and joy,
Ted