One of the strangely dependable qualities of miracles is that they appear when we’re least expecting them. This is a story of a miracle that happened to me last week at the hardware store.
That particular store is enormous and was completely deserted when I arrived late one day. I wandered around looking for someone who could answer my specific hardware question and finally saw two guys at the end of an aisle. They were joking around together, and when they saw me approach, several things happened simultaneously. They adopted their “professional” demeanors, and I felt their protective screens go up.
Humans tend to put up protective screens when approached by someone they might judge as being an “other.” In other words, someone who appears to inhabit a world or a reality different from theirs. I felt the screens go up, but I refused to get sucked into seeing them as “others” because, on the most fundamental level, I knew there is no “other.” I saw very clearly who they were: just me, in different bodies, with different thinking.
So I gave them the chance to see me in the same light, that I’m just them, in a different body, with different thinking. It wasn’t what I said, which was something like, “Hey, how are you guys doin’ tonight?” It was the fact that I didn’t present any obstacles, in other words, I didn’t put up the screens we usually present to strangers. It helped that I was taking the time to look straight across at them, ask how they were, and really wanted to know how they were doing. They saw I wasn’t creating a barrier between us and that I was really interested in hearing their answers.
Instantly, their protective screens disappeared. From the way they changed at that instant, I could see I was no longer the “other” to them. Now, I was more like an old friend they’d never met. It was clear I only needed one of them to help me, so one said goodbye, and we, who remained, walked off toward the aisle where I could find what I was looking for.
It was like we were the oldest friends in the world. Our conversation somehow veered toward the philosophical because, with no screens between us, deeper subjects weren’t off limits. We never spoke directly about the flash of recognition that had passed between us; we didn’t need to. We both felt it, and that was enough.
My new old friend accompanied me right to the door, and saying goodbye really did feel like it was being said between old friends. There’s a good chance we’ll never see each other again, and that’s OK, because in that moment of recognition, we really saw one another, and what we saw was the single being that’s shared by everyone and everything.
It feels like a miracle when we recognize someone, and are recognized in the same light. Unlike most miracles though, it’s one you have unlimited chances to experience. Let your screens down, let yourself feel the being you share with others. Give them the chance to meet you on the same ground.
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