On Wednesday morning I got up at 6:00 AM in order to pursue my still developing habit of a morning walk on the treadmill.  However, I was a little leery since my spouse did not have to go in to work and was sleeping in.  Our treadmill is in our bedroom so I had asked if it was okay with her.  She had said it was ok the night before but I wanted to be as careful as possible so I did not turn on the lights.   I sat my iPad on the treadmill and opened the Houston Chronicle app.  By the light of the iPad I got on the treadmill and found the start buttons and began my leisurely walk of 1.5 mph.  (I didn’t say I was doing cardio!)

I began reading the newspaper on the iPad but I noticed that the print was a little too small.  I reached up and increased the size of the type and, in that moment, I discovered that it is a really bad idea to walk on a treadmill in the dark!  My little finger accidently touched the 10 mph button.

I have not moved that fast in a very long time.  In a near panic I tried to hit the stop button but I kept missing feeling that I needed to focus more on staying upright.  Visions of bouncing off the end of the treadmill ran through my mind along with red lights and sirens!  Finally, I remembered the emergency button attached by a tether to my wrist and so I jerked my hand away and the treadmill came to a merciful stop.

In those brief moments when the treadmill was running at maximum speed and I was moving at maximum stumble, I felt something very odd.  There was a sense of presence, a knowing that was beyond my panic.  It broke through the powerful emotions and focused my mind on what I needed to do.  You can call that presence by whatever name you want, but I am comfortable acknowledging that it was a sacred presence, a great mystery that reached out and offered me what I needed in that moment.

I suspect that our lives would be greatly improved if we could rely upon that great mystery in those moments when powerful emotions like fear, panic, and anger seem to take control of our lives.  If we could remain open to that presence in times like these perhaps we would find a way to do what is necessary rather than what our fear, panic and anger demand.  Perhaps we would find ways to meet crises with thoughtful attention rather than emotional reactivity.

Had I followed my fear I would likely be writing this from a hospital room.  Instead, I am writing from my study with all limbs intact.  And, I hope, I am a little wiser having learned once again that there is a sacred presence that is available to us when we are open and ready to listen to its counsel.

Bob Dees, Spiritual Director

Spiritual Health Associates