In 2017, I moved to a pleasant small town in North Jersey. Over the years, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting many neighbors. One in particular is an older woman who lives alone, who’s always waved to me and my kids as we passed. We’ve exchanged friendly waves for years without ever really knowing each other.
About two months ago, I was outside with two of my four kids. It was cold, and I was exhausted after spending a couple of hours raking leaves in our yard. Still, I decided to take them for a quick trip to the park around the block. To my surprise, I saw the neighbor in question — normally so independent — struggling outside her car to get one of her shoes on, using a walker for support. I stopped to ask if she needed help, but she insisted she was fine and that she could manage. I double-checked to ensure she was okay before heading to the park. Given the chilly weather, we didn’t stay long, and on our way back, I saw her attempting to blow leaves while using her walker.
“You too can be a light in someone’s darkness this season, or any time.”
Once I returned home and dropped off the kids, I could no longer ignore the tugging at my heart. I grabbed my rake and went back to assist her in clearing her yard of leaves.
As we worked side by side, I finally learned her name: Terry. I discovered that Terry had retired just two years prior and had recently been diagnosed with stage four cancer that had spread throughout her body, affecting her organs and bones. This was why she used a walker; she couldn’t afford to fall. Tears filled her eyes as she shared her story, and my heart broke for her. Next thing I knew, I found myself hugging this woman I barely knew.
Since then, I’ve visited many times, bringing meals, treats, and cheerful drawings from my kids. I’m doing what I can to help her during this difficult time. Had I been lost in what I call “me-world” — the self-centered dream of storylines, judgments, wants, woes, and aversions — I probably wouldn’t have even recognized Terry struggling that day. Even if I had, I might never have gone back — had my mind not been quiet enough, thanks to years of practice, to hear the urgent message from my heart.
I might have, for example, convinced myself I was too tired to bother. But because of practice, and the intention it fosters in us to ease others’ suffering, I was able to seize the opportunity.
Now, I’m not a saint, and I’m not sharing this story to boast about my compassion. Instead, I hope it serves as a reminder of the power of learning to slow down, see clearly, and pay extra close attention to those around you. For me, these led to a new friend and the chance to care for someone in need. I can’t cure Terry, but I can bring light and love to her. Through my presence and attention, I can remind her that she is special and cared for.
You too can be a light in someone’s darkness this season, or any time. My only hope is that you’ll be awake enough to recognize the opportunities when they arise. Below are some ways to work those compassion muscles — and the gumption to walk up to a stranger and really connect with them.
Happy holidays to all. May this season bring you love, light, and opportunities to practice the Buddhist path.
Compassion Practices
How to Step Out of Your Stories and Into the Present
Leslie Gossett shares the power of creating and changing your own story.
Who Is Invisible to You?
Lisa Ernst asks us to notice who we don’t notice.
Loving-Kindness Meditation for All Beings & All Bodies
Metta meditation is healing and heart-opening. Arisika Razak leads us through the practice.
I See You, I Am Here: The Secret to Heartfelt Communication
Stephen Murphy-Shigematsu shows us how we can truly connect with others with the Zulu practice of Sawubona.
