“Only this actual moment is life.” ― Thích Nhất Hạnh

There’s a Buddhist story which speaks to false perception.

The story is about a young couple who lived during the seventeenth century. When the war broke out, the young man was called into service – leaving his pregnant wife to support the home all alone.

The young man fought for over 3 years, until he was finally allowed to come home.

On the day of his return, the young wife stood with their young son at the entrance of the village. She couldn’t wait to see her husband, and cried with such joy when the two were finally reunited.

“This is your son,” she said softly. “It is through his eyes, that I have met with you each day.”

After they returned home, the young woman left for market – leaving the young man alone for the first time with his son.

The father tried desperately to persuade the young boy to call him ‘father’, but – with every effort, the little one refused.

“No, you are not my daddy.” the little one protested. “My daddy is another man who comes here every evening. Mommy talks with him for a long time, and she cries with him, too. Every time my Mommy sits down, he sits down also. And, every time she lies down, he lies down, as well.”

All of the young man’s happiness dissipated in that moment. Once full of joy, he was now – a block of ice.

When his wife returned home, he refused to acknowledge her. and so, she sat silently in her kitchen preparing their offering.

When she had finished, the young man placed the offering at the shrine. He then unrolled a mat, lit the incense, and bowed before his ancestors to announce his safe return.

And then, without saying a word – he rolled up the mat up, before his dear wife had the opportunity to kneel upon the earth. You see, he had become so convinced that his wife was unfaithful – that he felt her unworthy to kneel before their sacred ancestors.

For three days, neither said a word to the other – allowing their suffering to grow until it became too great a burden to bear.

By the fourth day, the woman’s pain was unbearable – and she threw herself into the river, and drowned.

That night, the young man stayed with the child – and, when it was dark, he leaned in to light a gas lamp.

“There,” the young boy shouted, pointing to a shadow against the wall. “There is my daddy. Every night my daddy comes, and mommy talks with him for hours and hours. And, sometimes she cries – and, daddy cries, too.”

The truth was suddenly all too clear. The man who had visited every evening, was actually the woman’s shadow. She had fashioned this story to quell the little boy’s longing.

“That’s your daddy,” she had once said to him. “And, you can say ‘I love you, daddy’ any time you wish.”

We’ve all suffered the burden of our own misconception. Someone says or does something at work, and suddenly a ‘new story’ unfolds.

But, how often do we pause to ask ourselves – are we so certain of this truth before us?

The Buddha taught that there is a ‘river of perception’ within us all; that we might learn to sit at the banks, and contemplate how we really feel.

Are we so very certain of our perceptions?

My darlings, we have all fallen victim to these stories within. Perhaps, moving forward we might allow this question to serve as our ‘mindfulness bell.’

Remember, “only this actual moment is life.”