In the wonderful children’s book called Buttercup Days, written by my grandmother Ethel Cook Eliot, the main character, Beth, longs for the class bully, Dick, to be able to see her fairy friend, Tim. Tim’s fairy friends provide her with a thimbleful of “clear juice” to give him. She manages to slip it into Dick’s glass of lemonade and immediately he’s able to finally see Fairy Tim for himself, who’s laughing at him from the rim of his glass. All Dick needed was a few drops of the clear juice in order to help him see clearly! And after that he could not go back to being unable to see fairies. Clairvoyance is like that. Once we see, we can’t go back to not seeing. Enlightenment is like that. Once we know, we can’t go back to not knowing, just as we can’t forget how to read or ride a bicycle. When we’ve encountered suffering, we can’t unencounter it. Our capacity to know and understand the mystery of life occurs gradually and organically, one thimbleful at a time. Just a few drops of living is all it takes. A tiny amount of compassion. A flicker of kindness. A sip of love. The rest can be stored for later, shared, or given away.
