Okay, so I got another email yesterday about Mrs. Hildebrand, the watchful neighbor. Let me say, first and foremost that I am thankful for her. Everyone has a purpose in life. Mrs. Hildebrand has a purpose too. Sometimes I can’t define her purpose, but I’m sure deep in her heart she knows what her life’s purpose is. And, for most of us (the neighbors) she is a reminder of why we should love our neighbors.
We have all heard that you can lead a horse to water… and, no! I am not comparing Mrs. Hildebrand to a horse. Let me say, that Mrs. Hildebrand is a work in progress. We have not given up on her. She’s 85 or thereabouts and her mind is as clear as a bell. All the other neighbors have offered a hand to the old widow. But, she is a private person and that is her right. She must be lonely. Seldom does anyone pay her a visit, except for the neighbors. We do check on her every day whether she seems to like it or not. She is invited to all our neighborhood gatherings. And, we never forget her birthday or any other holiday.
If I sounded disparaging when I mentioned her name yesterday, I do apologize. It was meant as humor. And, do I dislike her? No! Absolutely not.
I must say that what I actually know about Mrs. Hildebrand is limited to a few occasional conversations of substance over the years. But, she seems to be a sad person. That is no reason to dislike her. I did not walk through life in her moccasins, so I don’t what influenced her or shaped her. To assume otherwise would be narrow minded on my part. I do know that she was brought up in a family that put great emphasis on earning wealth. Again, there is nothing wrong with money or having money. And, I do know from brief conversations with her that as a child her family suffered terribly from the Great Depression. At one time her family lived on the street for a couple of weeks. That would shatter any child’s dreams, at least in the short term. So, I dare not pass a judgment on Mrs. Hildebrand.
My only comment was that from my perspective, the widow prefers to stay alone and when someone does enter her domain she spends the time explaining the value of the antiques she has collected over her lifetime. But, that is Mrs. Hildebrand. And, if I feel anything, perhaps, I am sorry that she chooses to pass the remainder of her life in isolation. I do believe a good laugh would do her good. But, do I dislike her? No. I will continue to reach out to her, as will all the neighbors. As I learned last night, Ben and Happy took her two bags full of the frozen vegetables we fixed over the weekend.
But, that brings me to the idea of “liking” and “disliking” a person, the concept of “love” vs. “hate.” A long time ago, when I was learning meditation from an old Indian man who spoke very little English, I learned a valuable lesson… one of my life’s most valuable lessons.
Don’t ask me why because I can’t explain it. The old Hindu man took a liking to me. We didn’t understand a word the other said but we had great communication. He could always tell my mood as soon as he would see me. One day I was going into the ashram where he would meditate and instruct me by example and hand gestures. I can’t remember what had happened prior to my arrival, but I was fit to be tied. I stomped into the room and flopped down on the floor with a thud. His son who did speak English entered the room and a conversation ensued between the father and son.
I was sitting alone mumbling something about hating someone. It was the one and only time the son took part in a conversation between me and the old man. The son translated the teacher’s words into English. The story was long, but I will shorten it to the part that changed my outlook on life.
The son first asked, “How can you hate?”
I began by starting the story of what had transpired. The older man put his index finger across my lips as we sat on the floor in the lotus position, facing one another, our knees touching. I understood that I should be silent.
The son then translated this lesson. I paraphrase now as I cannot remember the exact words.
How can you say that you love yourself and hate another? We are One. There is only One. The gift of our universe is that we are all the same One. The air you inhale is the same air that I inhale. The air that gives you life is the same air that gives me life. It is the same air that gives life to your enemy. The air you inhale has filled the lungs of generations, of people known and unknown. What gives you life, has given life to everything alive or now gone. The dirt beneath your feet is from the ashes of Aristotle and Socrates, from the ashes of Buddha and Jesus. One day in the future, the ashes beneath future generations’ feet will be your ashes mixed with those of Buddha, Shiva, Vishnu, Ram, Jesus, Mohammed and all the greater and lesser souls that walked the Earth. How can you love one and not another for we are all One? How can you have love for yourself and not the one who breathes the same air you breathe? It is all the same life, the same One.
And, he concluded by saying something I repeated over and over to my children.
I am That.
You are That.
We are That.
And, That is all there is.
