“Everything is connected; everything changes; pay attention.” —Jane
Hirshfield
My sister Nancy called yesterday in tears. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing. It’s just that I had an experience last night that made me
cry. I’m not really sad; I just had this recognition about life. I’m
teaching the book Siddhartha to my high school kids, and I think it’s
affecting me.”
Nancy is a high school English teacher who is passionate about her work.
She is also the mother of two girls—Christine, age fourteen, and Amelia,
age ten. “Here,” she said, “let me read you a passage from the book.
It’s about how there really is no such thing as time.”
But today he only saw one of the river’s secrets, one that gripped his
soul. He saw that the water continually flowed and flowed and yet it was
always there; it was always the same and yet every moment it was new.
Who could understand, conceive this? He did not understand it; he was
only aware of a dim suspicion, a faint memory, divine voices. [Herman
Hesse, Siddhartha]
“Anyway,” Nancy went on, “last night I was chaperoning at the
eighth-grade graduation dinner, and Christine and the other seventh
graders were serving. They showed a slide presentation of the kids who
were graduating, beginning when they were in kindergarten, and suddenly
I had a Siddhartha moment. It was like I was looking into the river.
“I saw Christine as she is now, in seventh grade, and I saw the faces of
the eighth graders and the pictures of the kindergartners, and realized
they’re all connected. Next year Christine would be sitting here as a
graduate watching the slideshow of her younger self, and I suddenly saw
Amelia as a kindergartner and third grader and eighth grader all
simultaneously, and the pictures of all the families looked just like
all of ours.”
Nancy took a deep breath. “I had a realization of the endless stream
that life is, and that we are all part of it, and that it just keeps
continually flowing, and when we look at it, like at a stream, there is
always just the present, this moment.”
She laughed a bit between her tears. “Then today in class I shared what
I had felt the night before and related it to the book, and one of the
boys in class teased me. I started crying, and all the other kids were
sweet and tried to comfort me. I feel kind of stupid—but I did get their
attention!”
I told her I understood and that I’ve had many of those moments with my
children as they’ve grown. This year, during the Halloween parade at my
daughter’s school, I cried, not so much because I was sad but more
because I recognized the preciousness of a moment. For each of the last
six years, I had dressed Julianna in a Halloween costume, and each year
she sat with her class on the playground in the designated spot for her
grade level. When she was in kindergarten, I looked across the
playground at where the fifth graders sat; I couldn’t imagine my
youngest child that big.
But with each passing year Julianna and her classmates moved up, and
this year she sat with her fifth-grade class on that once-distant spot.
Now it was time to look across the playground at the kindergarteners,
and I had a hard time remembering when she was that small. During the
parade, the children from every grade processed in front of us with
delight, and it felt like the endless stream of life.
As I look deeply at the lives of my children, I see how everything
changes and how everything is connected. The river is flowing; it is
always there, it is always the same, and yet every moment it is new.
River-of-Life Meditation
In an interview with Elizabeth Lund, of The Christian Science Monitor,
the poet Jane Hirshfield used seven words to describe the nature of this
life: Everything is connected; everything changes; pay attention.
She added, “And really, you only need the last two—if you’re paying
attention, you’ll find out whatever else you need to know.”
See how everything is connected and how everything changes:
• Remember back to your childhood, to the little girl that you were.
What did you love then? What did you want to be when you grew up? What
has stayed constant within you? What has changed?
• Think about each of your children. Remember their births and
their early toddler years. Look into the river of their lives.
• Now as you look at them, imagine your own parents as toddlers. Move
forward in time and imagine your great- grandchildren as they are
learning to walk.
In prayer or meditation, you might want to use the phrases: Everything
is connected; everything changes; pay attention.
Is it possible to notice that eternity exists in this very moment?