There is a story about a Sufi, Nasreddin, who goes to a teacher for music lessons. "How much do the lessons cost?" he asks. "Fifteen dollars for the first lesson, ten dollars each after that," says the teacher. "Fine," Nasreddin replies. "I'll begin with lesson number two."
In spite of a thousand years between them, and an enormous cultural gap, these two stories have two things in common: our tendency to want to begin with the second visit or lesson and the expectation of a quick result.
The soulful take the first, the last, and all lessons with enthusiasm, patience, and steadfastness-neither success nor failure occurs overnight and makes work real, no matter how small or big, pleasant or painful, clean or dirty the job. Bees get honey from every flower. When you do something, says Shunryu Suzuki in Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind,
You should do it with your whole body and mind; you should be concentrated on what you do. You should do it completely, like a good bonfire. You should not be a smoky fire.
Such an individual works with enthusiasm, does what has to be done, again and again, and transforms her or himself into the native element of common harmony. In her poem "To Be of Use," Marge Piercy portrays this process:
