My youngest son is what you would call a “baller;” he lives and breathes basketball, is very good at it, and knows more about the sport and players than anyone else I have ever known; not just the marquee stars of the game, but up-and-comers, grizzled veterans, everyday heroes, and players who work hard and are seldom cast in limelight. He had an amazing encounter with Minnesota Timberwolves guard Aaron Brooks while at a game earlier this year and walked away with a pair of signed shoes; but that is a tale for another time. What sparked this line of thought was a recent article about Stephen and Ayesha Curry—Steph Curry is my son’s absolute favorite player of all time, ever, in the history of the universe, etc. The article takes an “inside look” at the couple’s marriage, and shares—among other points of interest—that the couple has identical tattoos: two arrows pointing inward toward each other “to signify ‘the past is behind us and the future in front of us, so we stay in the middle, in the moment.’”
Be here now.
Outside some patient rooms in hospitals across Providence St. Joseph Health, you might see a magnet stuck to the steel doorframe as you enter: “Stop. Breathe. Heal.”
Be here now. Be fully present in this moment, this encounter. Don’t walk in with the last patient, or stressful meeting, the flat tire on the way to work, the presentation you have to give in a few hours, or your weekend plans. You cannot effectively heal—in the richest meaning of the word: to restore—if you are not present. The art of healing includes and goes beyond the science of the cure.
In Buddhist spiritual practice, special attention is paid to thresholds, transitions from one place to the next; and, there is a practice where one pauses, touching some part of the entry way or door as a way to remind oneself “as I enter this room, I am…” Steph Curry, pausing and slapping his arrow tattoo, might say as he steps out on to the court, “I am a team player, one of five, a leader, a play-maker, grateful and gifted…” When I arrive home from work, put my key in the keyhole and turn the lock, I say “as I enter this home, I am a husband, a father, warm and loving…” And, when your doctor or nurse enters the room, you would hope there is something similar happening to pause, ground them, and bring them fully into this moment with you. Trust me, everyone in my family knows the difference when I don’t pause at the door after work and instead walk in with all the laundry of the day. I suspect that you would sense the difference if your care provider did the same during an encounter. In basketball, you might hear an announcer comment “his head is not in the game.”
Here. Now. Be.
What is it about “presence?” About “being present” that is so impactful or can make a difference? The act of being present feels richer and more substantial than simply paying attention or listening; and, it is far more than the opposite of being distracted.
If you recall the last entry about the Martha-Mary effect, and the story from the Gospel of Luke, there is something about attentively being present in the moment—grounded, attached to all that is life-giving and meaningful but not distracted—and acting/doing which joins contemplation and action into a seamless union of contemplative action, a whole whose essence is far greater than the sum of its parts. This really is what we want, isn’t it? For our actions in the world, in relationship with others and creation, to be an expression of the foundation of our deep, inner life. By “foundation” we are hopefully pointing to a reality greater than we are so that we successfully distinguish between internalized distraction and turmoil and action that is inspired by love. I imagine that each of us, at our very best, are expressions of God’s healing love.
