The Magic Ring

The wisdom book of Ecclesiastes was written by a person called simply Qoheleth. Qoheleth (interestingly enough, a feminine word) was the Hebrew word for someone who gathers other together, in this case like a teacher or preacher. In Ecclesiastes, Qoheleth was a pseudonym for Solomon, the son of David, and ruler in Jerusalem. Overall, Ecclesiastes feels like a cynical book, like Solomon took a look at life and found it to be a conundrum, or lacking in direction and purpose. The entire book begins with a soliloquy about illusion. It almost borders on a rant.

Qoheleth saw it as his duty, aided by Wisdom (the feminine aspect of the divine) to determine all that is accomplished under the sun. What progress is being made by humankind? What purpose do we serve? And, in deep lament, after looking at everything that had been done in the world, he proclaimed “everything is but a mist of air, like chasing the wind.”

The basis of his value judgment on life appears to be whether something lasts or not. Unfortunately, his observations show that all we strive for will disappear. One generation goes and another one comes, the sun rises and sets over and over again, the wind continues to blow, the rivers empty into the sea, but the sea never fills up. There is nothing new under the sun, says Qoheleth, we’re like people chasing the wind. It’s all fruitless.

Pema Chodron, in her book How We Live is How We Die, gets to the heart of the issue: “Things are constantly coming to an end, and things are constantly coming into being. There is a continual process of death and renewal, death and renewal. This experience, which every living being goes through, is what is known as “impermanence.”

We know that everything changes. We know nothing lasts forever. But we don’t typically appreciate that very much. It seems we’re afraid of change, afraid of the unknown and uncertainty. We like stability and consistency. We like to be comfortable in our illusion that we’re in control and secure.

As promised, let me share a wisdom story with you from the book Doorways to the Soul.

King Solomon was wise and powerful with riches beyond compare, and yet he was not content. “I am too often depressed by life,” he told his wise men. “If things go my way, I do not trust that it will last. If they do not, I fear my woes will never end. I have dreamt that there is a ring that contains the knowledge that will bring me peace of mind. Please go and find me this ring. I wish to have it by Succoth, six months from now.”

The king’s advisers each went their own way, asking in each place for this marvelous, powerful ring that would bring their king peace of mind. They went to the finest jewelers and goldsmiths in Jerusalem and described the magic qualities of the ring. But no one had heart of it. They traveled to Damascus, Babylon, and Tyre and spoke to traders and merchants who had traveled the seas, but no one had heard of such a ring. They traveled to Egypt and many other places, but met with no success.

Many times the king asked them if they had found the ring, and they had to reply, “not yet, your highness.” Solomon’s hope was fading.

Six months passed. On the last night before Succoth eve the advisers still had not found the ring. They had given up, all save one, the youngest. Unable to sleep, he walked through the city streets all night. In the morning he found himself on a street with the very poorest houses. He saw an old man setting out his simple jewelry and trinkets for sale. In one last attempt he described the ring to this man.

The old man was quiet for a while, and then he smiled. He went inside his simple dwelling and returned with a plain gold ring. With a sharp tool he engraved something on it and lait it in the adviser’s hand. As the wise man read what was written on the ring his heart filled with joy. “This is the ring!” he exclaimed. He gave the old man all the money he had and hurried back to the palace.

That evening at the Succoth feast King Solomon silenced the crowd, “Advisers, have you found me the ring of my dream?” he asked. “We have, your highness, spoke the youngest. He came forward and placed the ring on King Solomon’s hand. The king looked at the ring and read the Hebrew words engraved there: Gam Zeh Ya’avor – “This, too, shall pass.” As he read, the king’s sorrows turned to joy, and his joys to sorrow, and then both gave way to peace. The king was reminded in that moment that all his riches and glory were impermanent, and all his sorrows would pass away as the seasons and the years.

From that time on, King Solomon wore the ring, and was reminded, in good times and bad, that “This, too, shall pass.”

This too shall pass. It’s a cliché. An overused phrase that somehow feels like what we’re experiencing is being discounted or diminished or brushed off. So, it annoys us. But what if the phrase is truly much more profound than we give it credit for?

The King’s biggest struggle was that if things went well, he didn’t trust it to stay that way, and if things went poorly, he worried that they would continue to be bad. The ring reminded him of the impermanence of all things in life, reminded him that he could not control everything, and reminded him to “go with the flow.” If he could stop grasping for the ungraspable, he could find peace. If he could make friends with change, perhaps change wouldn’t frighten or concern him and he could enjoy life with all of its fluctuations.

Life is like a river continuously changing and flowing. Sometimes we’ll hit calm spot in the river, sometimes we’ll go through rocks and rapids or over a waterfall. We may come to a bend in the river and not be able to see what’s coming. Sometimes we’ll bottom out and get stuck for a while and sometimes we’ll be in over our heads.

So often we resist the flow, wanting something solid and unchanging to cling to. But the trick of the spiritual path is to go with the river, to exist within the continuous flow. If we find something in the river to cling to – a branch, a sandbar, or a rock – eventually those, too, will change. Our illusion of having found something lasting and losing it causes us more pain than recognizing and accepting that all things change.

If we remember that everything passes, we have the potential to make the most of every wonderful moment, embracing it with gratitude and joy.

As for the difficult times, if we remind ourselves that this isn’t forever, that this too will change, perhaps that will give us the strength, courage and tenacity to hang on. We can deal with this, we will get through this, because time will pass and life will be different again. We will not always feel so sad or frustrated or lost or angry.

The Teacher’s advice in Ecclesiastes? Be happy and enjoy life. Eat, drink and find fulfillment in our work. It’s the best we can hope for in each moment. And this too shall pass.

Consider making your own “This too shall pass" ring out of yarn or a piece of string. Tie it around your finger for the week as a constant reminder to view your life events from within the flow. See how keeping this at the forefront of your mind affects your reactions to the experiences of your life.

Love & Light!

Kaye