It’s three a.m. I should be in bed and I certainly shouldn’t be blogging, because one’s sense of proportion is never very trustworthy during “the hour of the wolf.” But I’m mulling over a fascinating chain of events and thinking about their significance, so I thought I’d share my thoughts with you.
Last week several websites actually attributed my cab driving story to me. For those of you who don’t know, it is a story that I use in my book, Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace, to illustrate the line in St. Francis’ famous prayer, “And where there is sadness, joy.” The entire book is a series of ruminations/meditations on Francis’ beautiful prayer that begins, “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.”
I wrote the book about a decade ago as a kind of spiritual meditation. I took each line of the prayer and tried to find some exemplification of it in my own or other people’s lives. My thinking was simple: St. Francis, of all the religious figures of the past, is perhaps the most universally beloved. He is beyond sectarianism, beyond doctrine. And though he was thoroughly Christian — some would say, too Christian for the church of which he was a part — something in his deep humanity has resonated down the centuries and transcended theological differences. I felt that I could do myself some spiritual good by engaging in an extended meditation on the prayer that may be the most universally beloved on the planet.
It was, and remains, an uneasy book for me, because it is in no way Christocentric, which Francis most assuredly was. But he was also the most embracing of the Christian spiritual thinkers. I figured that if he met me, he’d probably find a way to enfold my spiritual strugglings into his faith, so why not work backwards, and use that faith to illuminate my spiritual strugglings? It proved to be a good choice: writing the book was one of the most clarifying experiences I have ever had as an author.
But, back to the cab story. In the book I tell the story of when I was driving a cab in Minneapolis and picked up a woman who was going to a hospice. We drove around all night at her request in what was very likely her last real journey through the outside world she was preparing to leave. It was one of those “blue moments,” as I call them, when some kind of spiritual light shines through the ordinary affairs of everyday life. As most of you know, this is one of the primary themes of my work as a writer.
Well, this cab driver story, in various iterations, has moved virally around the internet for years. It got changed, detached from the Francis book, and attributed to any number of anonymous and not so anonymous sources. It frustrated me, but I tried to listen to my better angels and take satisfaction in the fact that at least it was being read.
Then, last week, something happened. Several websites, primarily zenmoments.org, reddit.com, and something called, I believe, dooce.com picked it up. Within hours my website was being hit like it seldom has before. On the third day after the initial publication I had almost 49,000 hits. This has not happened since my postings on the Red Lake shootings a number of years ago.
What was interesting to me was the comments that people made in response to the story. There seemed to be two fundamental threads: “This is a beautiful story; I’m glad there are people like this in the world,” and “What a bunch of sappy, probably fictional, crap.” Well, though strange and improbable, it is not fictional. Anyone who’s ever driven a cab knows that things happen that are beyond belief.
But that’s neither here nor there.
What is important to me is that in this dichotomy of responses lies the human struggle that so many of us live on a daily basis. We want to be the good person who picks up the old woman, drives her around, and refuses payment for giving her the last ride of her life. And yet we are also the caustic, cynical, folks who pick at the world and carp about things that irritate us or upset us. As Walt Whitman said, “Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself. I am large. I contain multitudes.” Or, to put it in St. Paul’s terms, “That which I would, I do not. That which I do, I would not.” We are simply complex creatures that contain both dark and light in us in varying degrees.
What I wanted to do in the Francis book was to bring out the light. I did not want to claim that I was light, or that I always lived in the light. Those who make such claims are either saints, or deluded, or disingenuous. And there are precious few saints among us.
The constant presence, and overwhelmingly positive response to the cab driver story tells me that there is, in almost all of us, a yearning for the light. We want to be the good person, the one who does the good thing, the one who makes the proper response to the situation. Yet, sadly, and far too often, we do not. That I did so in that moment in the cab back in the mid 1980’s does not make me a good person. It makes me a person who, for one moment, did something that was good. As a dear friend of mine once said, “Most people just slog through the world trying to be kind.” That’s what I was doing on that unexceptional August morning when an exceptional moment broke through the ordinariness of an ordinary day.
If I wrote a book about all the times I failed to do the right thing, or actually did something mean spirited or jerky, it would be far longer than the book of my better moments. But you don’t need to hear about those. You have your own mean spirited and jerky moments, and the world is full of folks who celebrate those moments by indulging their cynicism and skepticism. The cab drive story was a reminder to me, that I passed on to you, that we do have our better angels, and that we should assert them when we can. That the overwhelming majority of you appreciated the story is simply proof that we all feel better on those occasions when we do let our better angels have their voice.
In this time when dominance is praised as strength, where skepticism is often more prudent than trust, where disengagement is safer than engagement, we need to be reminded that the kind gesture that makes us vulnerable and serves no practical end is often the best gesture of all. The cab ride, for me, was one of those gestures.
I am pleased that so many people have found it. I only hope that they will follow it backward to the source. Forget the word, “Lord.” Replace it with whatever term you use for your understanding of the Creator or spiritual force that animates this universe. But don’t forget the next phrase: “Make me an instrument of your peace.” That’s what the world needs now. That’s what I was trying to be on that cab ride. That’s what I’ll try to be today.
I hope you will do the same.
Kent,
You brought me to tears…’nuff said.
Wendy
What a story to find early in the morning. I ordered and received your book on Thursday afternoon. After quickly skimming through it, I have placed it close by to begin reading next week. I delay because I am trying to finish Neither Wolf nor Dog. Thank you for all that you do.
Eric
Kent,
As always, you make me think, and feel, which, for me, sometimes borders between the miraculous and the terrifying.
Having worked the ‘blue hours’ for many years I can tell you that more goes on, in the world, in your head, in your heart, than the average person would credit during these hours of the wolf. The vast majority of the world sleeps at night and knows litle, or wants to know, of the possibilities of the night.
Further, as a thirty year veteran cop in a big city, I can also confirm that regular examples of the extremes of the good in us and the bad occur almost nightly. Cynicism is an occupational disease for cops, and the constant exposure to the bad side of humanity ruibs off, callouses our hearts, and,yes, we have our own demons to battle.
But if I had a nickel for every act of good, self-sacrificing or selfless behavior I have been priviledged to witness, I would, indeed, have one great pocketful of nickels. Not just on the part of my brethern officers, but concerned citizens who, for a moment, drop their masks and offer succor, hope, concern, and open heart and a hand to someone who needs it.
We are all dark and light, Kent, but even now I am proud and filled with wonder that I can say that I believe there is more of light, more of goodness, and more of the spark of the Creator within us than the darkness, if we only acknowldege it and let it shine forth from our souls.
Peace on All your Paths,
Mark
Kent,
I read the cab story last year (I don’t remember where), during a time where I was questioning everything in my life and wondering if I truly was making any difference in the world. The story resonated so deeply with both my husband and I. It struck a very deep place in me. The timing synchronized with my spirit. I’m walking my simple path again, feeling hope. Truly, every time I am fortunate enough to have a person open up and show some of their bare self to me, I am always amazed at the tenacity and courage of life and nature in all its forms.
Thank you C
Thank you, Kent, I needed to hear this from you today. I hope you are enjoying a peaceful Feast of St. Francis. Peace be with you.
Kent -
I have always loved your books. One of the first ones I read was “Letters to my Son” which I gave to my son Nicholas when he was a teenager. This past March, after re-reading “Small Graces” and hearing that sometimes annoying inner voice telling me that I had to give a talk at my church on that book (and after telling that voice it was nuts) I did give that talk and it was a wonderful experience.
All of this leads me to the fact that just 2 days ago I started reading “Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace,” without having read either one of your blogs about the cab ride. I haven’t reached that part of the book yet, but I’m finishing this note to you and getting off the computer to go read the story.
Thank you for all that you do.
Ken,
I was so delighted to read your “cab” story that I linked to it in my blog today.
I’m more thrilled that I discovered you and your work. I admire the spiritual insights you pull from the practical. Now I’ll add your blog to my “must-reads.”
Blessings to you in your work.
Oops! Here’s the “t” that is missing from the end of your name in my last post.
Dear Kent,
Inspiring piece, and insightful follow up. My favorite sentence (inadvertent?): “We are simply complex creatures…”
Thanks,
James
I just read a Twitter post by Joe Trippi that linked to the Zen Moments version of your cab ride story, then, followed a link to your blog, and read these two posts on the original intent and subsequent effect of this story.
I, too, want permission to republish the story. It is so inspiring.
I founded the website, Good News Network, 11 years ago to collect (in one place) all the positive news from around the world.
I have an Opinion section to which I could add your wise words.
You could add a short bio of your choosing to the bottom, or/and an addendum that could explain the original context and link to the Francis book, too.
I know it would be well-received by thousands of viewers on my site. Thanks for the inspiration…
Geri Weis-Corbley
Founder and Managing editor
The Good News Network
http://www.goodnewsnetwork.org
Excellent story, I found it thought a program called Stumble Upon, I think that’s where most of your traffic came from
Nice story, you are a poor writer though, has to be said. The door shut, it was the sound of a life coming to end. More like a poorly written story coming to an end.
I said a simple prayer for Sean tonight. That whatever hardens his heart would be softened…
I was bored tonight so I came back to read more of this guys stuff. I don’t have a hard heart ma’am. I said it’s a nice story, wonderful message, beautiful gesture by the author, but I was coming from a literary standpoint, and I thought it was cheesy. But yeah, thanks for the prayer.
Love Yall.
Kent..I ran across the cab story while I was doing a series on the Francis prayer last fall (I’m a pastor). But I wanted to save it for the largest crowd of the year, the most open-hearted crowd of the year: our Christmas Eve service.
So, jumping from Luke 2 into a brief explanation of God’s desiring always to be born again in human flesh, I told your story (with full attribution of course!)
People knew how perfectly the story reflects the deepest truths I know- that awareness of the present reveals the kingdom of God near us all the time, and that NO outreaching deeds are too small.
So, bless you for your awareness and outreaching, and thanks for helping me craft a well-heard message!
She was an angel. You experienced what God wants for each of us. To do His will and love others as He loves us. How I hope to have the patience and understanding if I am ever given the gift of a Blue Moment.
I believe this type of story is going to become a type of mantra for 2009, “we need to step up and be the light he shines through”. I think prosperity creates fence-riders, and as times become harder people tend to move more dramaticly towards a positive outreach or a more negative selfishness. So works like this “The Cab Ride” are going to come back to the surface. I Thank God, for writers like you that work so continually to help us see who we can be.
Over the past few days a number of small coincidences led me to this blog. Although I deeply respect your actions that night, as someone in her late fifties, I’m equally drawn to the woman. I find myself thinking about my “last days”. What if, due to some cosmic twist, today is indeed my last? What do I want it to say about me and how I have lived not just this day, but all the days that have comprised my life? I hope that somewhere in this day and in those to come, I too, will give or find some grace. Thank you Kent and all who have contributed to this blog for adding some grace to this day.
In my own insomniac blue hours I stumbled on the zenmoments site, and from there on to here. I just want to say that your story moved me to bittersweet tears. I hope one day I find myself in a situation where I am able to show such kindness as you did.
I have been fascinated by the fact that all (most?) of us have a lovely side – frequently best foot forward, to start – and then a darker side, myself certainly included. Dealing with the battle between the two is sometimes wearing. I am glad that Kent is addressing this issue. I try to be honest with people that I am a “well rounded individual”, neither good nor bad nor neither nor both – just a holographic image containing so many elements and contradictions that noone, including me, myself, can ever see the whole of me. Blessings, all, in your search, your quest, your queries.
Kent,
That was a touching story, thanks for sharing it.
As an occasional recipient of the kindness of strangers myself, each kindness having brought that priceless moment of joy to me you wrote about, I’m grateful for you, Kent. You gave this wonderful gift of clarity to those in society capable of both understanding and growth made possible through exposure to your message. Thank you and God bless you!
Kent,
These days all I’ve been seeing are the negativity and harshness of the world we live in. It has somehow kept me from feeling, doing kind actions, and boxing myself from all this to the point of being a pessimist. Just now after reading your Cab story, I got really moved by it. Don’t really know how I managed to come to your blog but to me your story gave me some light today. God bless to you and your wonderful insights!
In Zulu I would say, with hands clasped and in the 3rd person denoting mindful respect: ‘Siyabonga kakhulu’ We thank you deeply. Your cab story and your mantra- ” Lord let me be an instrument of your peace” moves me deeply. I have happened upon it a number of times of late. Especially serendipitous as in reflecting back on my life, I have been writing that life has been like a fascinating taxi ride – sometimes as passenger and sometimes as driver. I draw parallels with our infamous kombi taxis. In reading your cab story,(over and again) I have found new ways of being, seeing and doing in my writing. May my ‘unblock’ last! May your words continue to flow.May you be much blessed and know abundance of loving kindness.
I am very happy to have found your blog. It is always nice to find kindred spirits.
I came here via a link from “Zen Moments” about your story “Cab Ride.” …truly a moment of materialized Grace for everyone involved and everyone who reads it…
I have to ask. Did you ever go back to the Hospice facility?