It is the end of the fifth day. Jesus moves away from his disciples into a small clearing in the forest. The trees of Gethsemane surround him; the fading sun turning their twisted trunks into mythical monsters. He is afraid. He puts himself on the ground and crosses his legs—a foot on each thigh. His hands rest near his stomach—left cradled in right. With eyes slightly closed and cast down he sees the shadows of remaining sun travel across the ground. His breath is shallow. In and out it quickly moves; his diaphragm collapsing and expanding in a rhythmic pace. He watches. He pays attention. He slides into the conscious compassionate awareness that he knows so well. The space holds him. His heart opens and all is okay with the world.
The sounds come from the distance—horses, men, and the clinking of swords. Torchlight moves through the trees, and step by human step it replaces the looming darkness. He puts his palms together and moves them toward his chest—thumbs touching his heart. Jesus bows forward and then rights himself just as the light covers his head. He takes in one breath, feels it move through his body and he says,
“We are here to end suffering.
If ending suffering is more important than anything, we will end suffering.
If ending suffering is not more important than anything, we will not end suffering.
If I am suffering, it is because I am choosing something over ending suffering.
We are not here to create and cling to beliefs.
We are here to pay attention.
We are here to use everything in our experience to see how we cause ourselves to suffer; so we can drop that and end suffering”(1)
