This letter was about transcending people and events to live boldly – to transcend the common. While this letter was written years ago, it could have been addressed to anyone living boldly, without having known.
Tamara Ferguson is such a person. The LA Times byline is as follows: As deadly flames approached, a mother called her daughters to say goodbye. The story is a great read.
Dalai Lama described himself as a “simple Buddhist monk.” And it is in that simplicity that his lessons emerge. As a Buddhist, being kind and compassionate is at the core of all spiritual teachings and path. The commonality is compassion. It’s something that everyone can cultivate by choice. Instead of criticizing others, transcend the common. Remain compassionate.
We forget that life is beautiful. We overlook the joy of the ordinary, that little things can be worth celebrating. There’s always something beautiful worthy of discovery and you don’t need to go anywhere to find it. It’s not what we see that matters—it’s how we see that makes all the difference. We’re not even responsible for what we see. We are called to transcend the common, to be responsible for how we choose to perceive what’s seen.
Dear Ms. J.:
When telling complicated stories like yours and mine, one needs clarity. There is always the fundamental human need for beauty, and likewise, resisting through beauty. Our interactions must never become just another event among other common life events. As such, solving disparity and misunderstanding requires imprinting and living in anew.
In today’s world, everybody seems to have developed armor for the secondary self, the artificially constructed being that deals with the outer world. That’s what you and I often meet. That armor has never been exposed to living. It’s never participated in life.
When I ponder transcendence, I think of Ted Hughes:
“The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn’t live boldly enough, that they didn’t invest enough heart, didn’t love enough. Nothing else really counts at all.”
My love, you’ve always given your best. You’ve strived quite well to rectify the wrong. Yes, we should strive for an ideal, ideally pure thoughts and actions, but is an ideal possible in real life? So, is a pound of gold really a ’pure’ pound of gold? Quite honestly, I say, is there not hundredths, thousandths of impurities inevitably present? There is no pure, there’s only us.
You’ve always believed that a commitment to the common good requires both benefits and burdens, that gains and sacrifices be shared equitably. But this call is not unto you alone. All are charged to safeguard the vitality of the common good, the protection of our poorest, the vulnerable, and our solidarity with each other. Our social and moral teaching requires we never turn our eyes from the hurting, those, as I would say, who live on the margins.
In your own way, you’ve always reached out. Scripture tells us in Matthew 25 that what matters in the end is our ability to answer the question “When did we see you Lord?”:
For I was hungry and you gave me food.
I was thirsty and you gave me drink.
A stranger and you welcomed me.
Naked and you clothed me.
Ill and you cared for me.
In prison and you visited me.
I was me hungry and gave me drink. You shed my armor and welcomed me. You clothed me in love. And when I was down, you visited me. I am so proud of you. You have lived boldly.
You have transcended the common. You live a beautiful life.