No Eden without a Serpent (April 22)

On p. 87 of Providence Point, Bella tells Robbie about her uncle …

“Soon, the Major’s creditors will be able to do as they please… They’ve been after the meadow for ages and he isn’t rich any more.”

“But could he live anywhere else?”

“Of course not. Still, can you guess what he says?” I waited for her to tell me. “He says there’s no Eden without a serpent.”

Bella’s words echoed in my mind all the way home. When I arrived, my grandparents were back from Port. They were drinking tea and gazing over the water. I sat down and chose a biscuit from Granny’s box. Nibbling it slowly allowed me not to share my adventure right away. At length I told them about Bella and the picnic. But I kept back what she said about the meadow. I did not have the heart to hear that part again, even in the safety of the veranda.

The Major’s comment calls up an insight known in the Buddhist teachings as Samsara: the cyclical ebb and flow of serenity that may briefly feel almost ideal but is never entirely reliable. And his grasp of life’s shortcomings comes at least close to the Dalai Lama’s wise advice:

According to Buddhist practice, there are three stages… The initial stage is to reduce attachment towards life. The second is the elimination of attachment to this Samsara. Then in the third stage, self-cherishing is eliminated.

Honest reflection is sure to remind us of magically-appealing-but-not-quite-perfect moments. For instance, my own career around the world introduced numerous new settings that too often proved to deliver just a tad less satisfactoriness than initially met the eye. Instead of chafing against those regrets, the Major knew that the savviest course was to take them in stride. Of course, that’s not to say that everyone will attain his level of tranquility!

Have you as well encountered such challenges? Perhaps you’d be willing to leave a comment with one or two examples.

(Illustration generated by AI)