There’s more going on here
There almost always is…
That interaction in the coffee shop, that day job, getting your kid dressed this morning, washing those dishes, arguing with that friend, paying that power bill…
There’s far more going on than we think.
Each moment is sacred. Sure, we can choose to ignore it. But that’s on us. The moment is there, inviting us to slow down and see it for what it really is.
My last landlord was a guy from this area, but he’d relocated to Hawaii with his family. Whenever we needed anything done with the yard, etc., he’d always put me in touch with his mother — a woman in her mid-60’s (we’ll call her Jane for the intents and purpose of this post). She owned a few rental properties, lived in the hoity toity part of town, and had a crew of people at the ready for work.
A couple weeks ago, she was in touch with me to coordinate my move-out, and we were chatting on the phone about logistics, etc. All of a sudden, she goes into this diatribe about how, when she was younger, raising three young boys, she was left with not a heck of a lot of resources. She started telling me how her sons had to carry extra weight to help her out, etc. I could feel the tension in her voice raising. Soon, I could tell by her voice that she was on the verge of tears.
My ego immediately chimed in: Duuuude, this lady is NUTS. You don’t have time to hear her sob story, she’s just a rich lady who feels guilty and for whatever reason, she feels the need to explain how ‘poor’ she once was. She lives in a mansion now. Her sons all do well. Hang up, bro — you got stuff to do.
But, as I’m trained to do in these moments, I waited for that voice to pass. Sure enough, in an instant, something else flooded in. It was then I knew, there was more going on here.
Both her entire life and mine had brought us together in that moment. I have no idea why she felt the urge to open up to me like this. Yeah, she’s a little nutty (she even admits it), but that’s not the point.
She felt it appropriate to go there with me. This was no rant. This was a confession. To this day, she’s felt guilty for dragging her sons through the mud with her.
Without interrupting, as soon as I got a decent opening, something propelled me to interject, slowly and surely…
Well, Jane, you’re fine now. And so are your boys.
There was a long pause. Did I overstep? Did it sound offensive? Crap, I blew it.
I released the fear, relaxed, held the presence, and just sat with her for a sec. I didn’t try to rush her off the phone or talk her down like in some sort of hostage negotiation. I shared the truth that showed up for me in that moment as openly as I could.
Eventually, she came back…
Yeah... You’re right, Jonas... We are.
That was it. We both bid farewell and hung up.
There’s more to each moment than we see if we open ourselves to it.
Most of us move through life too fast. When we’re flying around, it’s hard to see what’s really here in front of our noses.
Each instant is ripe for connection with what’s here, right now, in this holy instant.