One day an announcement was posted. It said there would be an open series of marathons and foot races comprised of various distances and degrees of difficulty. All who wished to test themselves against course, clock, and each other, were invited to compete for fabulous gifts and prizes, as well as for national recognition for being the best in their class.
Our hero couldn't wait to get to the races. He had trained long and hard, and he felt more than prepared. Whatever the challenges, he knew he would prevail.
At last the day came for the big event. There were thousands of well-conditioned men and women milling around, wearing outfits and jerseys every color of the rainbow. In the center of the staging area, ten or fifteen banners marked as many starting places. Between the mounting excitement and the confusion of all the runners dashing back and forth to find their particular staging areas, our hero felt as though he'd stepped into a washing machine that was doing colors on spin cycle.
The next thing he knew, a starting gun went off, catching him unprepared. And before he was even sure of how it happened, he was in the race of his life.
All his years of hard work were now on the line as he summoned himself to succeed as never before. And he rose to the occasion. One by one he ran past his competitors, as time itself seemed to disappear into the rhythm of his own clockwork breathing. But then, out of nowhere, the shouts from the cheering crowds lining the raceway began growing louder and louder. He knew he must be nearing the finish line. And with a final surge he crossed that invisible barrier that makes one person a winner -- and all others just runners.
For some reason, the weight of the finish line ribbon stretching and breaking across his chest surprised him. It felt like a piece of velvet, and the strange weightless sensation captured his complete attention. But, seconds later, the sounds of all the yelling and cheering broke the spell and brought him back to the ache in his legs. But he had done it! He won!
He began jumping up and down, arms raised in the air, waiting for the crowds to surround him. But they were moving in another direction, away from where he was standing. The only person approaching him at the moment was an unsmiling volunteer official.
"Sir", the volunteer asked, "why are you jumping up and down?"
"I won the race," the man blurted out, behind gasps for air. He was somewhat stunned by the question.
"No, sir, you didn't," replied the official, obviously trying to be kind.
"What are you talking about?" the man fought to hold back his rising panic, "I crossed the finish line first!"
The official drew in a breath and spoke. He had seen this kind of anger before, and he knew he must break the news as gently as possible. "Sir, you have on a red jersey. This event was designated for runners wearing blue. I'm afraid you ran the wrong race."
What a shock! Our hero was unbelievably disappointed, but nevertheless undaunted. He returned to the starting gates to try again. And as he stood there, shaking out his arms and legs, he could feel fresh energy come to him as he envisioned himself winning the next race. A moment later another starting gun went off. And so did he.
Another hard-run race, and again, he was the very first to cross the finish line. But like a scene right out of a bad movie, another official came up to him bearing unwanted news. It seems that the race he'd just won was a qualifying heat only for persons of forty-five years and older. He looked down at his runners ID badge. It said he was only forty-three. But right about then, he felt like the oldest man alive!
Over and over, the man in our story ran all-out races that day -- spurred on by his visions of victory. Again and again, he crossed the finish line first, only to be told that he hadn't won that event either. Finally, one of the people in charge of the day's events walked up to him and said, "Having a pretty rough day today, aren't you?"
Too weary to even smile at this massive understatement, our hero just nodded and said, "But I don't really understand why this is happening to me."
All the official could do was look at him sympathetically. Then he spoke. "Sir, if you don't line up at the right starting place, how can you expect to win any race?"
The moral of this story holds a very valuable, but easily overlooked, inner life lesson. Its higher message applies to every department of our lives but is especially meaningful when it comes to assuring us success in finding freedom from the ties that bind: without the right beginning, there can be no happy ending.
Think about all the finish lines you have managed to cross in your lifetime where you thought you were an uncontested winner. Let's name a few:
- "They said I was great!"
- "She said she loved me!"
- "I made the deal!"
- "At last I own what I've always wanted!"
- "The crisis is over at last."
"I beat the odds!" - "Now I know I'm a good and wise person."
Then comes that untimely, unkind, or unexpected event where you hear, in one way or another, from yourself or from someone else: "Sorry, you just ran the wrong race!" Because you find out:
- The one who you thought loved you really loves only the idea of being in love, which has to be renewed repeatedly with new loves.
- That deal you made is slowly making you into someone you don't care for.
- That crisis you thought you'd solved once and for all shows new signs of life.
In any one of these incredible instances, just like it happened to the runner in our story, victory is snatched from right out of your hands. All you're left holding is a sinking feeling.
Until now, all we've known to do in these key moments of defeat is to try and pull ourselves together, jump into another race, and hope things turn out better. But we don't have to settle for just the hope of a happier finish. We can do better, much better. Certainty of succeeding in any of life's races is more than assured in the following understanding about the nature of making a true beginning.
There can be no starting place in our lives any truer than what our own awareness of the present moment permits.
This friendly fact tells us that our life direction, our actual destiny, is determined by the level of our awareness that attends the full range of each step we take. The next two examples prove this insight beyond the calling of any logic.
No one consciously takes a step in haste -- knowing it will lead to waste. Neither would any man or woman consciously take a step in anger -- if he or she knew the route just chosen would only lead to regrets.
These truths being self-evident, we have to ask ourselves, "What's the force at the source of these false starting places? How is it our consciousness can be so compromised we're unable to see that a step taken in worry leads us not to the worry-free life, but only to the base of an active volcano called Mount Anxiety?"
It's crucial for us to understand the full meaning of the fact that currently, our mind -- and the thrust of its habitual thinking -- lives with its attention fixed, not on beginnings, but on the end of things. A quick self-study in the form of a few honest questions proves this point. Don't we always wonder what our lives will be like tomorrow? Aren't we forever dreaming about how different things will be once we win this or achieve that? Don't we, in our mind's eye, perpetually walk towards a brighter moment to come, thinking about how good we'll feel once we're able to resolve some nagging situation?
We are betrayed every time when we set out on any journey -- mentally, emotionally, or bodily -- with our eyes fixed on where we think we're going, rather than in the profitable awareness of where we are. It's within this full awareness of where we are -- which includes the alert observation of all our attending mental and emotional states -- that is the true beginning we've been searching for all of our lives. Do you see why?
We don't ever have to worry about happy endings to any of our life stories if we're awake enough to refuse all unhappy beginnings. The free mind -- our true nature -- knows: if we attend to the true beginning of whatever tasks or life travels lie ahead of us, their endings have to take care of themselves.
