I was always afraid of the unknown.
Living in a Buddhist community, every night I had to cross an open field from the lama’s house to my cabin.
I carried a small flashlight.
It lit only a little of the path.
Just a couple of steps.
If I lifted it and waved it chaotically into the darkness,
eyes would shine back at me.
Deers, hopefully..
It scared the hell out of me.
With a wave of nausea, I made the effort to place the beam back on the ground in front of me.
Right here.
My mind tried to bend around the corner,
to foresee,
to prepare.
But what was real was only this:
the few steps right in front of me.
I would walk them.
And then the next ones would appear.
Night after night, I learned to relax into the unknown,
to trust the path as it revealed itself.
I remind myself of that now.
May I have enough light to illuminate just the next few steps.
May I have enough trust to continue.
