in this way we find each other

Buddhist Monk Thich Nhat Hanh was known for encouraging his students to see “the miracle in the mundane.”

He might, for example, hold up an orange and ask those before him what they saw. Yes, it is an orange, but what else?

Can you see the tree with its roots extended down into the soil?
The rains that came and soaked its green leaves?
Can you see how the sun came from behind the cloud and touched the moist earth?
The buds that became blossoms and the bees who collected their pollen?
Can you see the tiny green fruit that warmed to yellow and orange?

When we think contemplatively about these interrelationships, we can’t deny them. We can imagine the beings who rose before the sun to harvest the berries that now float on our morning yogurt.

We can see the oak, wide and dignified, in the old hardwood floors that now creek below our feet. There is beauty and heartbreak in these truths. They bring us to examine where we stand in the nature of things.

Our loss looks back at us in lock step with our privilege.

When we turn toward this, I hope we feel our bodies. I hope that we notice that as our gut clenches, there is also, right there, the unmistakable swell of a heart that also knows beauty.

And like the soft-serve cones that punctuated the wonder of summer, I hope this swirl within us does its job. That it eases the gripped places.

And that when we reach out, it is in this way we find each other.

Photo by Alex Shu