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A Quote That Stayed With Me
I may have come across this quote during the time I was reading Jon Krakauer’s Into Thin Air, a compelling account of an Everest expedition. For a long time, it remained pinned to the board above my desk. It read:
“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness.
Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans:
that the moment one commits oneself, then providence moves too.
All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred.
A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favour all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance
which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.
I have learned a deep respect for one of Goethe’s couplets:
Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.”
— William Hutchison Murray, The Scottish Himalayan Expedition
The Power (and Pitfalls) of Bold Beginnings
Though I later discovered that the couplet often attributed to Goethe isn’t quite accurate—what Goethe actually wrote in Faust was: “Enough words have been exchanged; now at last let me see some deeds!”—that powerful passage by William Hutchison Murray still carries immense character, energy, and beauty.
It deeply inspired me. I dove headfirst into many initiatives in life, often without much preparation or planning—quite mindlessly, I must admit. Many times, I ended up grabbing the wrong end of the stick and burning my fingers. But just as often, I landed on my feet.
Right parents, right siblings, right schools and teachers.
Right friends, right books, right music and movies.
Right spouse and children, right mentors and coaches.
Right bosses, colleagues, team members, and clients.
An endless list that, I suppose, must end with the right path and the right Guru.
Of course, there were detours, especially when it came to career choices and the occasional monster boss. Still, the adventure was absolutely worth it, even if not in terms of cash or currency.
Commitment as Catalyst
From Zen practice and daily living, I’ve learned that the energy fields of all sentient beings are mysteriously interconnected. So, I’m not sure whether “providence moves in our favor the moment we commit.” But perhaps that’s beside the point.
What matters is this: the moment we commit, something shifts. Our will stirs, and action begins. Maybe providence doesn’t move for us, but rather through us, when we commit.
Walking the Path (Literally)
It’s been over 12 years since I began coming to Perumalmalai for Zen practice, and since 2014, I’ve been a disciple of Zen Master AMA Samy.
Usually, I spend my free time at the Zendo reading. One day, AMA noticed me with a book and asked what I was reading. Then, quite casually, he suggested that I should start walking as a form of exercise.
Perumalmalai offers many beautiful walking, hiking, and trekking trails, so I took his advice and began a daily walking practice. My favorite route winds through the St. Joseph’s farm and estate, tucked away from the main road. It’s a coffee estate with plenty of orange and avocado trees.
A Small Blessing, at the Right Moment
Last December, Thara joined me at Little Flower Zendo. One morning, I took her along my usual walking path. After a short climb, she paused to catch her breath, sitting on a low kerb by the trail. Just then, two oranges fell right in front of her.
She laughed and said, “Nature knows when to give, especially when we’re tired.”
Those oranges were perfectly ripe, still cool with the morning dew, and unbelievably delicious. In that moment, the passage by W.H. Murray came to mind.
A few days ago, I overheard Thara sharing the same story with Manu as he was helping me move into the Zendo again. Our son, a staunch atheist, simply laughed it off.
Still, we spent a couple of wonderful days exploring Kodaikanal together before he headed back to Bangalore last Sunday.
The ZenDog and the Orange
And so, I continued my morning walks. As a borderline diabetic, I’ve learned that without them, both body and mind grow dull and sluggish.
Before she passed away, ZenDog Jackie Mu was my faithful walking companion. She guided me gently through the estate roads, often fending off the more aggressive street dogs that approached a bit too menacingly.
This morning, as I reached my usual resting spot and turned back, I suddenly felt weak and light-headed. Maybe my strict no-carb, no-sugar diet had pushed my blood sugar too low. The nearest tea shop—Surya Snacks—was still a good 1.5 km away. I searched my cross-body bag for a candy, but found nothing.
As I walked down a hairpin bend in the road, I spotted an orange lying a few feet ahead of me. In that moment, my mind fell silent, and for just a second, my heartbeat seemed to pause.
The orange wasn’t fully ripe—tangy and not at its sweetest—but it still tasted wonderful to my soul.
Without delay, I sent a photo of it to Thara. She replied with one word: “Adipoli”—a Malayalam expression that roughly means “amazing” or “superb.”
Coincidence or Connection?
Of course, to a rationalist, it might mean nothing. “What’s the big deal?” one might say. “It’s a coffee estate full of orange and avocado trees. You found an orange—big whoop.” My need just happened to coincide with what was available. A coincidence, they’d say. A matter of probability.
And maybe they’re right. But then I remembered a story from Yakov Perelman’s classic book Physics for Entertainment:
It’s 1941. The Germans are bombing Moscow. Most people take shelter underground each night, except for one famous Russian statistician who insists on sleeping in his own bed. “There are five million people in Moscow,” he tells a friend. “What are the chances I’ll get hit?”
He survives the first night, but the next evening, he appears at the bomb shelter. His friend asks why the sudden change of heart.
“Well,” the statistician says, “there are five million people in this city… and only one elephant in the Moscow Zoo. Last night, they got the elephant!”
So yes—we can calculate the probability of an orange falling at the feet of a weary traveler. Statistically, it’s what’s called a small probability event.
But when that improbable event happens exactly when you need it most, it feels nothing short of magical and mysterious.
Walking Your Own Road
Now, what I keep close to my heart, in my notebook, and pinned to my board is a poem by the Spanish poet Antonio Machado:
Traveler, your footprints
are the only road, nothing else.
Traveler, there is no road;
you make your own path as you walk.
As you walk, you make your own road,
and when you look back
you see the path
you will never travel again.
Traveler, there is no road;
only a ship’s wake on the sea.
And perhaps, as a traveler looking ahead, you might just find life offering you an orange—something to nourish and energize you—so you can keep walking your path.
Our world is indeed mysterious. To adapt an old saying:
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder; mystery is revealed to the mindless, the no-mind, the no-brain.”
(Originally published on the blog page Kokorozendo, Zen Chronicles: The Orange to Joy on the WAY. To read more such amazing posts, head over to the author’s blog, KokoroZendo.life, for fresh insights on mindfulness, motivation, and transforming your life. New posts drop all the time to help you on your journey!)
