On an early walk Saturday morning I passed a record store I pass six mornings a week, and for the first time in all the months I’ve strolled by I saw a sign painted on the store’s side wall. The sign was this – ‘You must be mistaken.’
Let me say my heart leapt up in joy the moment I saw it. Free. Free as a floating bird or drifting cloud. Freedom. I often mention a Buddhist idea here in the Blog – ‘Don’t-know mind’ – and the painted words ‘You must be mistaken’ became the always-moving automatic circular entry doors at an airport. You step in and you’re shuttled all the way in, unless you want to spin around and around endlessly. ‘You must be mistaken’ rushes you into the suitcase of ‘Don’t-know mind.’ And right through Customs.
Consider: “That person should have treated me differently.” You must be mistaken. “I’m not supposed to be so lonely this far down the line.” You must be mistaken. “The Oregon coffee roasters will always send me the correct order.” You must be mistaken. “My former wife quit on our marriage.” You must be mistaken. I think I know exactly the way things are – or ought to be or are gonna be – and it turns out I must be mistaken. So, okay, ‘Then what?’ Which is first-cousin to ‘Now what?’ Which is simply the alter-ego of ‘Don’t-know mind.’
What a way to begin a Saturday. Thinking I know how the day should and is going to go. And I’m walking down the sidewalk and hear a “Pssst” from across the street. And I cross and come face-to-face with the giggling cosmos:
“Hey, kid. You must be mistaken.”