*Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee, Llewellyn. For Love of the Real: A Story of Life's Mystical Secret.

He was sitting, cello on floor, playing, as I entered the barbershop. He lifted his head, to welcome me. I was surprised at how young he was, all the barbers from my past being much older, as though barbering was only for the aged. I had turned back, when walking down the sidewalk toward my vehicle and returned, to inquire about later getting my beard trimmed. The visit turned into a long conversation, without any incoming customers. He shared of his now training on the cello for a year, his back problem, from slipping on the ice in his early 20s, of financial difficulties, his training to be a barber, and gave advice on purchase of a bulb to assist with depression during the winter months here in Maine. Before leaving, he expressed, smiling, at how delighted he was by the visit. He had been alone, and he said getting bored. We said our goodbyes. I left, walking down the sidewalk. Something had happened, I felt no trace left of my having done anything in this hallowing, unplanned encounter, yes, no one having done anything. Yet, something lovely had happened, something kind.

* * *
Over the following days, this sharing time kept arising to mind. The sense arose of surprise that I had turned back, being a newcomer and outsider to this town, and entered the shop ~ as though what was needed to happen, happened, as I often write ~ spontaneously. Something happened, beautiful, and no one was present to say how or to claim having done it. The meeting lacked self-consciousness, as though an "I" was within, even surrounded by this sharing happening, a movement larger than any participants, even any choice to share. Yet, still, I was there, he was there, we were there.

* * *

My sense, is this spirit of service is what I am learning, maybe have been being taught all my life. Earlier in my life, I had a strong intent to serve others. This was nurtured through my love of Christ. Many would say, I did good for others devoutly and did it well. I was often commended for serving, over time in varied roles ~ teaching, pastoral care, counseling, chaplaincy, writing, ... I took pride in this. Service was my intent, I saw myself as a servant. I do not see myself anymore as a servant, do not live with an intent to serve. I see in this lack of intent and identity, openness is present for naturally-arising opportunities to present themselves, for Love to occur. And is this not what service is ~ Love happening? And is not Love serving, serving being loving?

Serving others
arising naturally in-the-moment

let it happen!
get out of the way

service is a natural unfolding
with the way you 'walk'

keep 'walking'
and you will serve
and you will be served

all naturally
unplanned

simply live with
a silent "Yes" to Life

serve without intent to serve
give without thought of yourself as servant

Life serves, Life is served
one served, everyone served

and when a timeless-moment of serving arises
let it leave when fulfilled, with no traces, no sense of ownership

service is one way Life keeps happening
sacred exchange occurs in communion

then, like Life, serving is not personal
so free of the limitations of "you" being a servant

rather than you serving another, subject to object,
you each are within this Kindness unfolding of Itself

simply be the anonymous conduit
through which others drink of the Water of Life

and in their drinking, you drink,
for in pure service, each one is One
and the sharing one moment of Grace-happening

what is the 'perfume' left from this service happening?
Joy ~ selfless, grateful, serene bliss

*(C) Brian K. Wilcox, 2018.

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