Karaj once told me a story of a man who was so convinced that a particular holy man could help him, that he searched far and wide for him. He walked everywhere, from village to village, patiently seeking, knowing inside that whatever the holy man said to him will change his life. Eventually, one dusty afternoon the holy many came into view. He was on a horse, surrounded by mounted guards. Surprisingly, perhaps, he was in a bad mood.
The frail seeker, who sought only to be closer to God, approached the horsemen. As he came close, he heard the holy man shout down to him. ‘Get out of the way! Get out of the way!’ Honoured that the master had deigned to speak directly to him, the man stood by and watched the horses recede into the distance. He smiled a broad smile, looked thankfully to the heavens, and set off on his journey home. The holy man’s words became his mantra, and for the rest of his life he repeated them over and over again: Get out of the way! Get out of the way!
In a similar vein, I heard an interview with someone who stated that the best thing we can do for the next generation is to make sure they have self-confidence and then get out of the way. His point was that we all come here with our own agendas, and just need an opportunity to fulfil what we have come here to do. Unfortunately, rather than free up the path, we are more likely to get in the way. We try to fix things which aren’t broken; we resist the flow of life because we think we know what is good for us; and we talk when we might listen.
We already have all we need, yet we doubt, and are too easily persuaded that we are not enough. We are ready to blossom, yet we strain, convinced that blossoming requires effort. It doesn’t. We need only nourish ourselves and bathe in (our own) light. Silence and emptiness are also ours. Be quiet. Make room. Get out of the way.