Dark Night, Luminous Light

Los Angeles is renowned for its complex and often frustrating freeway system. It can also be terrifying for drivers new to the city if an exit is missed or they are in the wrong lane when the traffic is actually flowing. Someone once pointed out that if there is a traffic jam, it’s arguably a little easier and safer to change lanes.

When I first came to LA, I doubted whether I could ever navigate its thoroughfares, but it’s difficult and time-consuming to get around without doing so. Nowadays, with the help of a GPS system, I usually manage pretty well as long as I mentally plan my route and pay attention. But as I always say, we must accept that even the best-laid plans may go awry.

One moonless night recently, I was returning home from a meeting in Pasadena. Having driven this route several times in the past few months, I’ve come to know which freeways, transitions, and lanes to be in for the least amount of last-minute stress. For example, there’s a spot on the 134 Freeway where the lanes all start merging to the left. Being a forward planner, I was moving to the left as early as possible, when out of nowhere (!) another car jumped into my lane from the HOV lane to my left with a huge blast of the horn. Oh-oh. In case I was in the wrong, I voiced an unheard apology to the other driver and gripped the steering wheel, grateful that there hadn’t been an accident. At least there was hardly any traffic at the time, so the rest of the route toward West LA was smooth sailing and the safety of home was minutes away.

I glanced at my clock. It was just after 10 p.m. as I approached the Westside exits on the 405 Fwy. Wilshire was ablaze with bright lights as workers lay down traffic cones, blocking the ramp. My usual exit came next, but it was already closed, as was the next. In a moment, I went from feeling joyful and relieved, to surprised, to saddened, to frustrated. Such is the heart of a human being that we are unable to meet change with equanimity. By now I was on the 10 Fwy, just barely making the split to head west rather than back to town. I heard my Dad’s quiet voice from long ago saying, “Don’t get excited. Just keep going.” This did have a calming effect on me because even when we were lost, there was always a sense of confidence that we would get there, and whatever route we were taking seemed quite natural. No worries.

I exited at Bundy to street construction—time enough to feel momentarily sorry for myself again, but I was in my own neighbourhood and the darkness was no longer threatening. I probably drove the rest of the way home on automatic pilot.

At our driveway, I smiled to see that my husband had left the lights on and the gates open for me to breeze in. Mookie greeted me at the door with her tail wagging furiously, and in the kitchen, I found homemade cookies and huge, sweet blueberries, freshly picked and delivered by a sangha member all the way from the Central Valley.

As I munched away the weariness, I was reminded of how kind people are; how selfless, generous, and dedi-cated many are in valuing our teaching and temples and ministers. How fortunate I am, even as I think only of myself.

Because some members are willing to get together after a hard day at work to take on the oft-thankless job of leading the temple, not for their own glory, but for the benefit of everyone, we can all take refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha.

My heart immediately lightened, being brought to recognize that it was not a challenge but a gift to get to drive on a great freeway system in a dependable car, guided by adequate lights and the eyes to see. Most of all, it was inspiring, gratifying, and humbling to realize that my causes and conditions and countless others have enabled me to spend my days and nights surrounded and illuminated by enlightening beings who guide and accompany me always on this path of Great Life.

Life, powered not by me, but by Immeasurable Wisdom and Compassion. Namo Amida Butsu.

Gassho,

Rev. Patricia Usuki