Today I had the pleasure of escorting the pre-eminent
Calligrapher, Writer, Poet, Artist, Peace Activist, Translator and Zen Sensei
Kaz to the airport in Brussels. Last weekend I participated in one of Kaz’s
“signature” calligraphy workshops and last evening I was able to attend a truly
special event in which for the first time (as far as anyone knows), the poetry
of the Japanese Zen Master Ryokan was set to music and performed live. Kaz had
translated the poetry, Luc De Winter composed the score, and the duo of Els
Modelaers (mezzo) and Veerle Peeters (piano) brought the poetry to life at
Antwerp’s Kunst Humanorium (Performing Arts School).
Within a mere week’s time, via Kaz, both directly and
indirectly, I was exposed to an entirely new aspect of a city I have lived in for the past five years. As I have written before, there are two ways to see
the world: to travel as much as possible to as many places as you are able to;
or, to sit still and the world will sooner or later pass by. I have tried to
balance both of these approaches, and this past week, the latter proved to be
quite effective as I discovered many things “in my own backyard,” so to speak.
I picked up Kaz quite early this morning, and the brilliant
autumn full moon was still quite high and bright in the sky, and the air was
crisp and clear. It was a beautiful morning.
We made it to Zaventem with no problems as it is Sunday, and
the infamous Belgian traffic jams were not to pose a threat today.
However, when Kaz tried to check in, there was a bit of a
security snafu as he had previously lost his Green Card and is waiting for his
new one. As such, we were told he was not going to be able to fly and that he
would have to go to the American Embassy and procure papers, etc.
Two things could have happened. The first, which
unfortunately is more common, is that he could have made a scene, complained,
be rude to the woman helping him, or a myriad of other ways to cause ill will.
We had just experienced that as the woman in front of us had been told she had
to shuffle her luggage a bit to make the weight limit. She loudly protested,
became highly agitated and in the end left both herself and the woman helping
her in a huff. That was the woman who was helping Kaz next, and she began in a
rather defensive tone from the beginning.
Yet, the other way to deal with such situations is the way
that Kaz did. There was no huffing and puffing. There was no anger. There was
no anxiety (at least not outwardly as far as I could tell), and Kaz remained
calm, which is what one would expect of one in his station of zen practice.
After various people coming to help out, calls to INS in New York, re-booking
of tickets, and so forth, the end result was that we got Kaz on a later flight,
which ended up having a better connection as well, and each person that we
dealt with, in the end was smiling, and everyone wished him a fine journey.
Once, many years ago, I was traveling with my ex-wife and we
were on a flight that was canceled from the US to Europe. It was about midnight
when the flight was finally canceled after a couple hours of delays. As a
result, the entire flight had to be re-booked, one by one. Tempers flared
immediately. People were loudly protesting and generally making the women’s
lives behind the desk quite miserable. We were the last to be re-booked, by
then it was nearly 2am. The people in front of us had been particularly rude,
and the woman that helped us was at wit’s end.
Instead of following suit, I tried to be as understanding as
possible, and lighten the mood for us. A slow wave of change came over the
woman’s face, and she said, “just a minute.” She went into the computer, began
ticking away, and ultimately handed us new tickets for the next day. She said,
more or less, “I ‘accidentally’ booked you in these new seats, I think you will
like them.” She slid the tickets across the counter with a knowing smile. That
was the only time I have flown first-class on a transatlantic flight…
After Kaz had his tickets sorted out, we still had a couple
of hours before he had to board on his new flight, so he suggested we have
breakfast together. As there is not much in the Zaventem airport for departures
before you go through security, we were limited to a couple of places, one of
them being a “themed” American-style diner, which we chose.
We both decided upon a small stack of pancakes, which neither
of us had had in some time as it turned out. Complete with a jug of Maple
Syrup, we had a very nice breakfast, and I was able to learn more about Kaz and
his family as well as being able to tell him about my wonderful daughter as I
had given him my book that I made for her, so he was “familiar” with her
vicariously.
Last Sunday I learned of the inspiring art of the enso/enzo
zen circles, and today I enjoyed a very pleasant conversation over a stack of
American pancakes with an elderly (only in years…), kind Japanese man in the
Brussels airport, served by a Turkish waiter. Again, the world does indeed
sometimes come to us in our own backyard, and the more receptive we are to it,
and the more we meet it with kindness and understanding, the richer our experience
can be.
