Finding the Inconceivable Next to the Fajita Sauce
Epiphanies Everywhere! Yes Everywhere
May 28, 2025
The inconceivable is present in the supermarket next to the cans of fajita sauce. All that is needed [to see] is for someone not to fulfill your expectations.
*John Tarrant. Bring Me the Rhinoceros: And Other Zen Koans That Will Save Your Life. P. 45. Shambhala. Kindle Edition.
A Buddha story -
There was a developmentally disabled monk who yearned deeply to be enlightened. He had faith in Shakyamuni Buddha. So, Shakyamuni said, "You want to be enlightened? Well, good news! There's a way." Pointing to a corner of the room, the teacher said, "Go sit in that corner." The monk did. Shakyamuni threw a ball at him, and it hit him. Shakyamuni said, again pointing, "Okay, bring me the ball and go sit in that corner." Again, the monk did as told, and his teacher hit him with the ball. After Shakyamuni had done this in all four corners, he said, "Now, sit in the middle there, and you'll be enlightened." The monk sat in the middle of the room and became enlightened.
One way of reading this story is wherever the monk sat and whatever he experienced in the room, that was it. That was enlightenment, or eyes to see epiphany anywhere, everywhere. None of Shakyamuni's behavior made sense, and the man simply trusted and acted as told. Sitting here. Sitting there. Keep getting hit with a ball. Then, seeing.
Nothing about this would be viewed as sacred, holy, or religious by most people. Thankfully, the teacher did not give a sermon! No. Not even give the monk a Dummies Guide to Becoming Enlightened. Just sitting, being hit with a ball, here and there. Sit. Bang. Sit. Bang.
Yet, here and there became everywhere, for it was. Do you think sitting where you are now is not all epiphany? Then, you may choose to question your thinking. Sitting where you sit is just it, not what you or anyone else thinks about anything. One sees a temple and chants, "Holy! Holy!"; another sees a stick and sings, "Holy! Holy!"
You do not need a lecture on how to feel raindrops. What, then, do you do? You do - that is it! Do! You walk out into the rain, and see. Ground, sky, clouds, raindrops, wetness, wind... everything right there. The whole world sits where you sit. Walks out into the rain with you. Nothing is left out. No additions needed. There! An epiphany concoction! Smile. Drink up! And you thought you could be alone in the universe? Ha! Ha! It seems God played a joke on you. Life likes jokes.
* * *
When a Christian clergyperson, the congregations and I celebrated what is called Epiphany. Epiphany was a day, Epiphany Sunday, for celebrating the manifestation of Jesus, a Jew, to the Gentiles, all non-Jews. Epiphany implied the unity the child Jesus embodied. The coming of the Maji, likely Persian astrologers, to visit the boy - not the babe as oft mistakenly portrayed - indicated a dissolving of the boundary between Jew and Gentile - again, everyone else. Additionally, we celebrated Epiphany as a season that begins yearly on January 6 and ends on Ash Wednesday, the latter marking the introduction of another season, Lent.
Such days, seasons, rituals, and rites are helpful to many. Yet, we can look beyond them. We can look through them and see how they suggest the potential in everyday experience. As humans, we need reminders of the Sacred that always is, for we easily forget, getting lost in distractions - at least until we no longer forget, discontinue being put to sleep by distractions. Still, remembering is the start. We need to listen deeply, the way we ponder archetypes, which are largely silent on the surface yet roar from deep below.
* * *
Epiphany means, from Greek, "to reveal, manifest." All nature reveals the Sacred; you and I are revelations of that Sacredness. When I say "you and I...," this does not mean how we usually see ourselves - as a body only and, at best, some vague soul lurking inside. Part of revelation is discovering we are more than just a body. This entails the body is more than we think it is. The eyes of flesh only see flesh. We cannot say, even, when looking in a mirror, "That is my one body."
* * *
Some persons say things, such as, "He had an epiphany," which means a sudden insight. This idea is not what we mean by an epiphany. An epiphany is not something we have or get. Epiphany is Spirit revealing Spirit, the Holy appearing as the Holy, Beauty shining as Beauty, you being you without any notion of you.
* * *
I drove to the Kennebec River in my first winter in Maine, and looking down on the icy waters from the bridge leading into Georgetown Island, I took a photo of the river. I titled the photo "Epiphany in winter attire." The scene spoke to me of the ritual of Life - how Life is revealed in diverse garb. Another day, another moment, the river would be another river. You cannot locate an epiphany; it is in flux. No one will ever again take a snapshot of that same river, as no one before had taken a picture of it.
* * *
The body you call your body is not what it was or will be. Bodies, as our breaths and thoughts, are Life manifesting. A corpse is no less an epiphany than an infant's body; both are Sacredness happening. They are living, fleshly revelations. A single Mystery is each one. One epiphany changing, yet, somehow, the same epiphany.
Sacredness moves and breathes. While we may mourn beside a corpse and celebrate beside a new infant, both are equal epiphanies. Each is what Tibetan Buddhists call Natural Great Perfection. Why Natural Great Perfection? Because each is what it is. Both are glorious in their own way, equally. Both are manifestations of Beauty, an appearance without an opposite, even as the Perfection is free of a contrast. The corpse is perfect for being a corpse, the baby for being a baby, a stick for being a stick, and you being you.
Epiphany has nothing to do with our preferences. It has nothing to do with sainthood or being the most moral guy in the neighborhood. There is as much epiphany at a local bar or the grocery store than at a church.
* * *
After the river photo, I wrote the following poem.
epiphany "manifestation" moment-to-moment everything a witness to something More but no one can say Who or What that Something is dressing up in the myriad forms perfectly that both... reveal and conceal like our being born in a cosmic game of hide-n-seek enticing, seducing ever-right-here, and out-of-reach
* * *
Any answer leads deeper into the bright darkness of not-knowing. Yet, the not-knowing is knowing - now, not with the mind. We learn to reverence and enjoy and wonder, not wanting to trap this More, this Something, in a cage of thoughts and words. We relish the questions and relaxing in the Silence. Here, we bask; without words, we worship. If someone were to ask, "What is this worship?," there is no answer.
If someone were to say, "Brian, okay, but what does all this mean?" My reply, "I don't know, but I know." I smile, sitting here in a chair musing on this amusing conundrum - "I don't know, but I know." I see I have always known even before I knew I knew. This knowledge has guided me since childhood, possibly even before.
This smiling... epiphany! God has a sense of humor, is not the boring guy many think God is. God smiles! Laughs! Dances! Enjoys all kinds of music, sunsets, walking in the rain, snowfall, birdsong, different religions, diverse colors of skin and feathers, clouds and leaves and grasses, tears, sadness, jubilation, aged-wrinkled skin, tattoos, rings in the nose, kisses and hugs and sex, laughter, jokes, movies, old, abandoned barns, trucks left rusting in the woods, children playing and doves and geese and streams and dogs and frisbees and kites in a park, and, yes, people walking about uptown or driving the interstate to work or on vacation or to visit with family or a lover. All epiphany. Crows cawing. Squirrels barking and squeaking. Horses neighing.
Wonderful! Do we have the eyes to see? To appreciate? To celebrate the grand, ever-changing display? And you are it, too! So, can you celebrate yourself - guiltlessly, gladly?
