Walking With Intention Day 29 by Rudranavitch

The Key


One Thursday evening at work, one of my good friends handed me a DVD and said, “Rudy, you gotta watch this. It’s about how our attitude affects our life.” I looked down and was unimpressed by the title–What the Bleep Do We Know. I forced a smile and stammered an insincere, “Thanks, Marian.” Well, it turns out I was right, at least in part. When the cartoon blobs representing the cells in our body came under attack by green slime, I winced that my friend could have found this movie inspiring. And yet, something about the movie touched me.

The next day, I got in my beaten up twenty-year-old Toyota Corolla and drove four hours south to sing at a benefit concert in New Jersey. When I pulled into the front gates, I remember actually blinking my eyes over and over again thinking I was seeing things. It was as if I had made a wrong turn and ended up on the set of a Batman movie. The house looked exactly like Bruce Wayne’s Manor.

The Indian family hosting the event were billionaires and had invited Tony-award winning Broadway stars, the whose-who of New Jersey high society, and me, a burnt out public high school teacher.

So there I am idling behind a Porsche and a Bentley waiting to give my car keys to the valet, a little minnow swimming in much deeper waters than he was used to.

I wish I could tell you how the music was that night but no matter how much I wrack my brain, I can’t remember a note. What I do remember is the valet who parked my car.

As the evening drew to a close, after I had said my goodbyes, I hastily jogged down the grandiose staircase to reclaim my keys. I gave the valet my ticket and waited and waited and waited. When he finally reappeared, he muttered,

“Uh, sir. I don’t got the key to your car.”

“I’m sorry, son. I must have misunderstood you…”

He looked at me sideways like a puppy who knew he was going to get wacked for chewing up his owner’s only good pair of shoes.

“I lost the key to your car, sir.”

My response was as instant as it was unconscious, “Son, I have to be at work tomorrow morning in Connecticut. Now you go down that hill and find my key. Got it? “

Okay, so the words themselves were pretty neutral, but my tone was brutal.

“O…O…o… Kay” he stammered shakily.

I went back in and ate a second and third helping of dinner and then went and explained my plight to my hosts. They were absolutely lovely people.

“It’s so hard to get good help these days, isn’t it?” the lady of the house asked me offhandedly.

I mean, how was I supposed to respond to that? What did I know about the quality of help these day? So I went to my default social response and stared blankly into space.

Her husband graciously chimed in, “This is so embarrassing. Why don’t you just borrow our second best car, the Jaguar, until we can get a new key made for your car.”

To this day, a part of me regrets that I didn’t accept his offer, but this little voice inside said, “Why don’t you check in with the valet just one more time? “ I have learned through a series of very close calls that it is best to listen to that little voice.

So, I looked around to see if I could find the valet. He was easy enough to spot. Way down the hill off to the west, a single flashlight beam bobbed and weaved frantically across the sprawling lawn. It was the valet looking for my car keys in a sea of grass. It took me a good fifteen minutes to make my way down to him.

“Hey!“ I barked, raising my hand.

He flinched. He thought I was going to hit him. And I have no way to explain it, but in that instant, by some grace, my attitude spontaneously flipped from anger to empathy. (I hate to admit it but I think the ideas in What the Bleep had something to do with it).

“Don’t worry, son, I wasn’t going to hit you.” I said softly. “You must be cold.”

“It’s freaking freezin’ out here,” he said in a thick Jersey-shore accent.

“Have you been looking for my key all this time?”


There was a long, calm silence…

“Are you going to school?” I asked. ( I couldn’t help myself. After all, I am an English teacher).

“Yea. I’m at Mount Claire College.”

“Here,” I said handing him twenty bucks. “Use this for your studies. “

“Why are you being so nice to me, mister?” He was as confused by my change of heart as I was.

“I have absolutely no idea,” I responded. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Angel,” he replied, smiling broadly.

“Alright, Angel. Thanks for trying so hard to find my keys.”

I turned and started trudging up the steep driveway to the mansion above. It looked like I was going to get to drive that Jaguar after all.

As I climbed the hill, I had to stop often to catch my breath, and every time I did I saw a resolute flashlight beam bouncing around. Angel was continuing his search.

When I had nearly reached the top of the hill, I heard shouting. I had to listen carefully to make out the words. When my ears finally attuned, I couldn’t believe what I heard…

“I found it. I can’t believe it. I freakin’ found it!”

When he finally made it to the top, his faces was beaming like an eight- year-old boy who had just ridden his bike all by himself for the first time ever.

And suddenly it became clear, as long as I was holding onto negative thoughts, there was no way that Angel could have found that key. However, the very second I chose a good attitude, new possibilities opened up for both of us. Far too often, I forget that underneath it all we are not made of skin, and flesh and bone, but of love, and hope, and boundless potential.

I learned something that night. Somehow at that concert, this worn out English teacher was given his curriculum. It was time for me to walk the way of the heart.




These days, I work as a gopher in a restaurant. All the proceeds go to help those in need, and in return I’m given a bed and food.

So each day, seven days a week, I fetch the potatoes, pumpkins, and sacks of flour (the list goes on and on). And many times during the day, negative thoughts arise. When they do, I do my best to flip them. I often fail. But when I feel anger arise and I choose to just watch it, the anger fades and such a peace sweeps over me, such a love.

Perhaps this is how we find our way home, by choosing a good attitude from moment to moment no matter what. If we can do this one little thing with all our hearts, perhaps one day all of our higher angels will come bounding up the endless hill. On that day, there will be no more need for flashlights. For on that day, all darkness will vanish in the light of our pure being. And in one voice, the angels within us will sing in voices softer than the lull after a crack of thunder, “We’ve found it. We’ve found it! We’ve found the key.” And funny to say, it was always right there, just once conscious step away, right there in the field we walk every day.


Written for Walking With Intention.  Leave a comment and let Rudran know what you thought about his take on the subject.

Featured image via www.hdwallpaernice.com

About the author

Kevin Rudran Degnan is a magna cum laude graduate of the University of Notre Dame. He taught high school English in the Bronx, NY and then on the campus of the University of Connecticut. He is currently living in an ashram in Southern India trying to free his mind and get out of the matrix.


  1. Don’t worry ya’ll, I’m everyday pressuring Rudran to get hooked up to the net so that he can start a blog, cause let’s face it, the English teacher can write!

    Rudran – I love the heart felt honesty, the hindsight clarity, and the daily struggle which you offer up continuously towards leading a good life. Thank you so much for being a part of the series so that everyone can see what I see everyday – you are one of the good guys.

  2. This was amusing to read and the final message was so genuine,
    this one of the simplest and most genuine posts I’ve read on this series!
    It’s kind of uplifting in a way. 🙂

  3. I love your post Rudran. What an incredible learning for you, and it is a story I will remember too. BTW I think I had a similar reaction to “What the Bleep Do We Know”!

  4. Wonderful. I loved every word. I have been in similar positions of holding people responsible for their actions and have definitely not always flipped it. Excellent Reminder. Beautiful message at the end.

  5. Wow, what wonderful writing! I loved every word of it. I could just SEE it! What an amazing journey!

    My only objection (tongue planted firmly in cheek here) is your eye rolling at the movie “What the Bleep”!!!

    Setting all science aside for a moment, when that movie came out, I immediately saw it as a way to get even my most resistant clients at least thinking about how much power they had over their lives. I did something unprecedented with my 5 therapy groups, much to the chagrin of my more left-brained co-therapists. I took my groups on 5 different Field Trips to the theater during their weekly group times, and made them watch that movie. At the time, my practice was populated with several clients fighting bulimia, or various drug and alcohol addictions, as well as some getting over failed relationships. (There were also a couple of physicians who protested the inaccurate science, but even they enjoyed the movie as work of “fiction”.)

    The music alone broke down several barriers. I mean, what’s not to like about those terrific Patrick Nagel-esque, mannequin-like CELLS dancing to Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love”?

    Seriously though, I loved your post. Thank you.

  6. Yup, sitting here with a smile on my face from ear to ear. I can see it, hear it, believe it, know it and love the main character in this blog. Wonderful reminder of our spiritual power and strength.

  7. Beautiful! I wonder, though, if the reason Angel lost your keys was to give you the chance to choose love over anger. 🙂 Life has a way of teaching us things that usually involve a pressure cooker. I will take this post as a reminder to me (since I could totally relate to the whole tone of voice thing – ALL too well). Peace, C

  8. This is a great post. When I discovered What the Bleep… and how the synapses keep firing the same way until consciously rerouted, it made sense to me. I’d practiced changing my thinking for years, in Texas with “I’m okay,” in Mexico with “release fear,” and in the Hawaii Island jungle with “trust.” An impulsive gift, as you made, Rudran, can also change the automatic firing. And bring peace. I showed the film in my writing and speech classes for years to help students understand how they could change their automatic reactions.

    And now I write. The recently completed memoir is just this story: how I changed my thinking.

    Thanks Sreejit for pushing Rudran.

  9. Sri Jith Baba Ki Jai! Is there a way to make a submission without emailing you? I am under a vow not to email anyone. But I am not under a vow to not text anyone. Can I text you a link for submission? If so, email me your number. I read emails but I’m refraining from writing them to improve my writing self restraint, to write more books instead of emails and to pasify vata imbalance that comes from too much emailing. I’m writing less email and doing more Sadhana which is good for my ego getting cut off and protects others too!

    1. Oh usually I won’t see these comments that are published under someone else’s name as the notification goes to them. You want to submit a whole post by text? or you would send a file by text? Right now I don’t have any guest post series going, but I’ll definitely write you the next time that I do.

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