As one who collects bits and pieces of dharma wisdom to keep practice inspired, I recently discovered a little piece of paper with the following words of Rabindranath Tagore, the Bengali poet-author, philosopher, and Nobel Laureate: “In what new form shall the unknown come to me?”
Given the turbulent, uncertain times in which we’re living, maybe it’s not surprising that his words dropped into my heart and became a koan — an invitation to let the mind play with his words, play with the great unknown. The phrasing of Tagore’s statement somehow suggests his openness to the unknown, even curiosity toward what might unfold in his life. I was intrigued that his words struck such a resonant chord, inviting deeper reflection on these dramatic times.
We may forget that every moment of our lives we’re living on the edge of the unknown. Perhaps when we do focus on it, we notice stirrings of anxiety, dread, or fear with a windstorm of scenarios unfolding in our minds. As Pema Chödrön, the Tibetan Buddhist teacher once said, “If you’re invested in certainty and security, you are on the wrong path.”
Offering yet another perspective on life’s uncertainties, Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj, the Indian saint and teacher for some of our Vipassana teachers, made a compelling statement: “The mind creates the abyss; the heart crosses it.”
How do we respond when that abyss opens up, and we find ourselves caught in a maelstrom of disturbing thoughts, fantasies, catastrophizing? We start by recognizing — perhaps naming — the mental pattern, the accompanying emotions, and the impact on the body. We allow and accept the feelings that arise. Then we come to the breath, a series of slow, calming breaths, beginning to witness how the mind created that abyss. We come home to the moment — and to the heart.
We can breathe into the heart center, that precious source of loving energy, and trust that as we invoke feelings of loving kindness, we discover once again the path to inner freedom. As we repeat metta phrases, our preoccupation shifts from self-absorption to caring for others. We’ve returned to the present moment. We’ve opened to the reality of this moment, “just this,” without any additional commentary.
As dharma teacher Eden Tull so beautifully phrased it, “being present with what is — a journey of soft surrender.”