The other day an old friend reached out with an inquiry on behalf of another. Perhaps if I respond here, these reflections might find their way to others who may benefit from sharing in the inquiry.
“Hey Kabir. I was talking to a friend of mine who has muscular dystrophy, now in a wheel chair. I told him some about what you’ve been through and what you do: i.e. perseverance and development of self and surrounding community under most challenging circumstances.
He said he wanted to ask “How you do it?” Meaning with the sense of what is your inner experience and what might he learn from it? He said something about learning by “mimicking” higher qualities, which teaches the brain.
Have you written anything about your experience, your source of strength, maybe your moments of doubt, etc?”
… Dis-ability… Source of strength… Perseverance… Challenge… Doubts…
Relative elements, each implying some counterforce…
Development of self. Development of community. Higher qualities. Learning…
Expansive elements, each implying an openness, a field filled with receptivity and possibility…
How do I “do it?” What experience speaks to others?
You might notice, I notice, from my rambling expression of words, there is a vulnerability, a spaciousness, a tenderness, a carefulness with this inquiry.
What does it mean to be vulnerable? To have doubt? To feel the weight through which we persevere, to look into challenge and see, or at the very least, have faith in the light of a way through?
For context, by way of explanation for the reader who may not be familiar with why these questions might come to me. I have been a quadriplegic, a user of wheelchairs, a being of fragile form for 20 years now.
But this is not my identity. These are garb that I have worn and continue to wear into this timeless moment and yet, in this moment, I am not bound by these realities. These are each but one dimension of something so vastly more.
When the breath arises and I look in to that fullness of the moment, allow my attention to let the world be, to simply appreciate the movement of that living contraction and expansion, the profundity of mystery that is beyond magnificent eclipses all of the clinging to those momentary definitions of self.
We may argue many things, but in the absence of life, even the idea of these arguments are nothing more than hollow echoes of nothing at all. In the presence of life, we may argue many things, but at the ground is the terrible and marvelous privilege of doing anything at all. Life itself is first a gift and, realizing that, a gift of incomparable, inconceivable value.
It is in my nature to judge things, and I do. As I write these words today, my body complains, some discomfort whose source is uncertain persists, clinging to and claiming a small part of my attention. It might be an infection somewhere. It could be the open wound now healing for weeks, a result of systemic neglect at a hospital filled with loving and caring people. It could be the change in the weather today, slightly cooler here in San Diego, a bit more moisture (a privilege while so much geography not far from here suffers under incredible heat waves.)
I do not like the discomfort. I push through it to stay upright and compose these words. When I am finished, I will surrender my body to the bed early again today to attend more the wound and nurse and nurture the intended recovery. Perhaps the discomfort will go away when I do, perhaps not. The gift of life will remain…
That last sentence, do I really know it to be true? The gift of this present moment, timeless in itself, colorful apparitions of a recalled past and an imagined future flickering like stars in the morning sky, this present and precious moment will remain.
Recently I’ve been noticing a model of my life as a stool, or perhaps better, a small offering table with three legs. The three legs are health and well-being, the presence of adequate care, and a balanced financial economy. In times, each of these can falter and become unstable. When they do, they challenge the others. Righting all three can be a bit of a juggling act, and as anyone living likely knows, we may not always appreciate the gravity of our situation. There is grace in this life, uncertainty, faith, and grace.
Today my finances are in balance. For a few months foreseeably, it seems. But just a few.
Today my body is wounded and a little bit stressed for health, balance of care, and a sense of clarity for what, if anything might arise to be offered on that little table.
Today the adequacy of care is strained. It takes real human effort, material support of numerous third parties to enable my movement, well-being, and engagement in the world. Today my friend is working long again to ensure that that is the case. That friend has been enduring many days of this long work to ensure that that is the case. There are many days ahead that may depend again on that one friend. Expansion does not occur forever; we must care also for contraction.
At times I doubt my strength. I doubt my sense of direction. I doubt my values. I doubt my service to others. I doubt my fitness for these communities, for this world. I doubt my view. I doubt my righteousness.
I never doubt my love. When I look, I never doubt the compassion I have for others. I never doubt the sadness I have for the suffering in this world and beyond.
I am moved by beauty, always. I am delighted and grateful for those moments when creativity flows joyfully through my being. I am happy, always, for laughter and for those smiles that dance across the faces of the beloved.
I never doubt the intensity of my longing for the beauty and majesty of the world to be realized fully in the life of every being, for peace, for the prevalence of love and care, for the deepest appreciation of the gift in the hearts of all.
My friend asks, “how do you do it?”
To the best of my ability, I follow the teachings. I follow my heart. I do nothing special, I simply listen for the sound of voices wiser than me. I listen, as best I can, to the being in front of me. To the person, to the wind, to the sound of silence…
I do nothing special. The poet said it well…
(Translation by Robert Bly)
The Time Before Death
Friend, hope for the Guest while you are alive. Jump into experience while you are alive! Think... and think... while you are alive. What you call "salvation" belongs to the time before death. If you don't break your ropes while you're alive, do you think ghosts will do it after? The idea that the soul will join with the ecstatic just because the body is rotten -- that is all fantasy. What is found now is found then. If you find nothing now, you will simply end up with an apartment in the City of Death. If you make love with the divine now, in the next life you will have the face of satisfied desire. So plunge into the truth, find out who the Teacher is, Believe in the Great Sound! Kabir says this: When the Guest is being searched for, it is the intensity of the longing for the Guest that does all the work. Look at me, and you will see a slave of that intensity.
Very wise words indeed!
I hope many people who live with physical and/or mental challenges will have the opportunity to read Kabir’s words and share them with others.