Everyone
has their purpose. I just hadn’t discovered
mine.
We
were 3 benches in a park.
Bench
1 clearly knew its purpose.
It
was to enjoy the rich conversations and the books of the people who sat on
Bench 1.
Bench
1 was into mind-expanding things.
Bench
1 was always going on and on about philosophy and epistemology and such, things which, if they didn’t entirely go over my head, only somewhat interested me.
I
am curious and I have a love for words.
These two personality traits made me listen to whatever Bench 1 said.
Bench
2 was clearly status-seeking, a name-dropper.
Bench
2 lived for the stylish, well-heeled, and well-known people that sat on Bench 2.
Bench
2 would tell you that Bench 2 occupants that day included people who wore
Manolo Blahnik Hangisi shoes, or toted the most expensive Louis Vuitton bags, or drove
up in a Tesla Model X P100 D.
As
for me, neither status, nor mind expanding ideas, excited me, or held the key to my soul.
I
registered everything Bench 1 and Bench 2 said.
I
was curious enough for that.
Bench 1 and Bench 2 knew they had a perfect listener in me.
So they shared everything and anything that excited them, or troubled them, with me.
And I would listen.
But truthfully, I
was interested in an "interesting what other benches find interesting" way.
I knew, there had to be something more.
One
day, an older woman sat on my bench and said the rosary.
As
she sat there, moving from bead to bead, and repeating the Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be, I caught a glimpse of what my purpose was.
Another
day, two young men sat on my bench.
One
of the young men had the book Awakening Loving-Kindness by Pema Chodron in his hands.
He
explained to the other young man what meditating on loving-kindness meant.
I
caught a glimpse of my purpose again.
Another
day, I watched a man put a mat on the grass, put his hands up, then put his right
hand over his left hand, then bend down and put his hands on his knees, then
stand back up and bend down, placing his knees, hands and head on the floor, all
the while reciting prayers.
I
caught a glimpse of my purpose again.
One day, two Hindu studies major students sat on my bench. One of them read this passage from the Bhagavad Gita out aloud to
the other:
“The man who sees me in everything
and everything within me
will not be lost to me, nor
will I ever be lost to him.
He who is rooted in oneness
realizes that I am
in every being; wherever
he goes, he remains in me.
When he sees all being as equal
in suffering or in joy
because they are like himself,
that man has grown perfect in yoga.”
and everything within me
will not be lost to me, nor
will I ever be lost to him.
He who is rooted in oneness
realizes that I am
in every being; wherever
he goes, he remains in me.
When he sees all being as equal
in suffering or in joy
because they are like himself,
that man has grown perfect in yoga.”
I caught a glimpse of my purpose again.
Another day, two Jesuit priests chose me for their bench.
They
spoke of wondrous things, such as St. Augustine hearing a childlike voice telling him
to “take up and read”.
For
days after, I kept thinking about that.
And
then one day, it happened.
A
man with a backpack and a stick entered the area where our 3 benches were located.
He
looked weary and he looked tired and he looked disheveled and he looked unkempt.
I
knew he was the kind of man Bench 1 and Bench 2 would be least interested in,
even revolted by.
He looked at all 3 of us benches, and then made his way to where I was, even though I was the furthest bench.
He
put his backpack down on one end of the bench.
Then,
using the backpack as a pillow for his head, he sprawled across the length of the bench, covered his face with
a dirty shirt, and fell into a deep sleep, from which he awoke, hours later, after which he picked up his things and left.
He
came back the next day and did the same thing; and he came back the day after and did the same thing again.
At
the end of day 3, after he had woken up and left, Bench 1 said to me: “Tough luck 3, to have a homeless guy single you
out and make a habit of it.”
I
didn’t say anything.
Bench
2 added, “Better accept it, 3. You might be stuck with him at least till the weather changes!”
I
didn’t say anything.
If only Bench 1 and Bench 2 knew…..at last, I had found my purpose.
The End
Note: The original idea for this story came to me
in the form of a miraculous coincidence - which happened in October of 2012,
almost 6 years ago.
Though
I had the idea for this story 6 years ago, I wasn’t able to put it into words.
So
it just lingered with me, all these years, until a few days ago.
Here's how it happened.
On the morning of April 27, 2018, while riding the bus to work and reading a book, suddenly these words
came to my mind, “Everyone has their purpose”.
My
mind, next inexplicably, jumped to my unwritten 3 benches story.
The
next thing I knew, I was writing furiously.
This
story, that had been waiting to be told for 6 years, got told.
And
I am sharing it with you here today.
P.S. Two things might have played a role in
unblocking the writer’s block I had with the 3 Benches Story.
One
is that during the week of April 23rd - 27th, I read the book “Preparing
for Easter – Fifty Devotional Readings from C.S. Lewis.” It was while I was reading this book, the words, "Everyone has their purpose" came to my mind.
Also
on the night of April 26, I watched the movie “The Hiding Place” about Corrie Ten
Boom, based on the book of the same name. The movie moved me deeply.
I
highly recommend both the book I read and the movie I watched.
Who
knows what they will do for you?
Concluding Note: Hope you enjoyed this spring
2018 story. Thanks for reading and have a great spring. May you make the most of your blessings and be strong in your trials...Minoo
