Blind Commitment

WITH THE MORNING CAME AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS FOR SMYTHE. SHE had been working long hours, writing and preparing for a conference she was invited to speak at near the end of the month. It would be a big deal, for it was the first time she would deliver her material to several hundred community members. Her tears flowed yet again as she felt everything that came along with fear.

Where is this coming from? I’ve given similar talks to much smaller crowds. Damn it!

She wanted out of her head and found herself seeking refuge at the baker’s shop. As she recanted the past day to him, he listened intently with a solemnness she had not before experienced. After finishing her story, he sat with her for several minutes before finally speaking.

“Fear and doubt are painful,” the baker began. “They rob us of our ability to live the life that is before us. They take all hope, all creativity, all love from us. They bond together and consume us, leaving no room for our ability to care for ourselves and others. This fear and doubt will attempt to push you off your path, dear daughter.”

Slowly shaking his head as if remembering a thought, he continued.

“Both fear and doubt, they also leave us blind. They lean toward hatred and, how you say, cropping of deceit and violence. Mmmm… Instead of unity, we sow discord; instead of compassion, we sow judgement. And this is the truth my daughter; for all of these things which fear and doubt create, they are only behaviors of what we feel within ourselves. I am sure many of your faith leaders and experts have more eloquently come to this conclusion.”

“Blindness. Perhaps I am walking in blindness,” Smythe replied, deep in thought.

“It is the inability to see, no?”

“Well, yes.”

“Whether clearly or not at all, we often cannot see that which is before us or around us. Yet everyone who has this physical inability to see still moves forward. One step at a time, maybe, perhaps with a cane, an animal, or another human being, they move through their day.”

The baker paused for a moment, thinking through the list of his regular customers. He then continued.

“I have a guest who comes in every day, just like you, but promptly at 2:30 p.m. He cannot see, so he has no idea what my creations look like. Yet he still manages to choose correctly for himself and is always appreciative of the selections he has made. He can identify the ingredients in each of them through smell, and we often discuss them. When he sits down to eat them, he runs his fingers lightly over them, observing the texture. His expectation is that he chose correctly.

“You have spoken about a blind commitment. For me, it seems a blind commitment requires us to see with our other senses. Take forward that one first step, and then another, knowing that the path is true.”

“Has he ever made a bad choice for himself?”

Smiling with a glimmer of enthusiasm contained within his slender frame, the baker stated, “There are never bad choices, for each choice offers a lesson. So, no, he has never made a bad choice. He eats my creation enthusiastically and always thanks me for the experience.”

“Are we still talking about blind commitment, or are we talking about your pastries?”

“Of course.”

“But what about those who make a blind commitment to hatred and violence?

“There will always be those who have given into fear and doubt. To love, to be compassionate requires a different kind of blind commitment. It is agape. To love requires that you choose perhaps an unrewarded path. It is an unspoken agreement.”

“Too few make that agreement.”

“Yes.”

“It is the hardest kind of commitment to make.”

“Yes, and the best kind,” he said.

“So, how do you believe this relates to fear and doubt?”

“Always will there be both as long as you choose to live from the past. What is your blind commitment, daughter?”

“It’s that I made a commitment to this journey cloaked in starting a new business, and then to writing without really thinking it through.”

“You did think it through. Again, predictability and control, my daughter. You want to see the end from the beginning, but you cannot. Continue to commit. In the end, you shall see how far you have come and turn to help others who wade in the mud of fear and doubt which lives only in the past.”

The baker rose from the table and stated, “I have another customer coming through the door. I must attend to them. Stay for a while. I have missed your presence.”