I just came back from meditation class. I’m feeling all white and fluffy inside.
Oh! and before we begin, let me say that I have just run out of gin and vodka. Lots of Vermouth left, but you can’t make Martinis without gin and or vodka. I am tired of qualifying everything I do. No apologies! When I came to Canada I was so miserable, left with nothing, that I figured “What good has sobriety ever done for me?” Everything in moderation. Darn! That’s qualification. That’s apology. I wish I could be more like my literary hero Charles Bukowski, an unapologetic reprobate. He didn’t care what anybody thought. He was delightfully horrible. Me? I care too much. Extremely self conscious. In this apartment building I share my walls, floor and ceiling with my neighbours. Sometime it smothers me, makes me claustrophobic, unable to move. But that’s me in the world. No room to breath. Well I should go to meditation more often. I am just worried that sitting before an Indian woman with a Tikka who is trying to make my kundalani rise might be incompatible with my spiritual beliefs.
Nevermind! Apparently – according to my studies in this area – “I” am incompatible with my spiritual beliefs. Fleshy thing that I am. Because we are not these fleshy things. We are white and fluffy inside. A bit like Oreo cookies. And that includes the guys with beards and black hats as much as it does those those sitting on the floor, legs crossed, trying to get their their kundalanis to rise.
So I have been incorporating familiar prayer with the meditation techniques. It seems to be working. “Blessed be the Lord our God…”
OK!!!!! ATTENTION PEOPLE!!!! Because after our little prologue we are at the meat of our episode today.
I have a friend… The Universe threw us together. I come from a certain tradition. He comes from a certain tradition. And we both found ourself in a strange place. And I remember a certain cosmic coincidence, whether he does or not, which tells me the Universe is trying to tell us both something. A quiet friend. A patient friend. A wise friend. And I am not showering him with compliments. The wiser you are the more you have to help others. With great power comes great responsibility. He is like Spider Man.
And, even though I am here now, I still correspond with him. But I figure he has other things to do, and he has LOTS! So I write this blog, to spare him and maybe entertain educate and amuse some others.
So, back to light and fluffy as opposed to all ego and fleshy.
Whenever I went to his office I said “Give me a book to read!” Because I understood the tradition. It says the student chooses the teacher and the teacher is obliged to teach. Maybe that’s mean, but there is also a tradition which says to take all the Knowledge you can. Truth transcends me or you or him and it must be shared.
There is a story, and it is probably the same story in every tradition: A student goes to his master and he says, “I have been good. I have done everything properly. Now I would like to progress to the next level of enlightenment.”
“I have a question for you, my son. If a person compliments you, how would you feel?”
“Well, I would feel good.”
“And if someone spits on you, how would you feel.”
“Well, I would try to understand but I would feel bad.”
“Until you can feel the same about an insult as you do a compliment you are not ready yet to move to the next level.”
That’s me. I’m too worried about what group I belong to. I’m too hung up on what other people think of me. I am fleshy ego.
I lived in India for a while. People, when they greet you fold their hands in front of them, give a little bow and say “Namaste”. It means “I am you”. It is a prayer to the God which rests within all of us.