REMEMBERING AND FORGETTING

         
            It happened almost twenty years ago, but I can still remember how excited Zet and I were when we went to Houston with a group of Celebration Circle friends to hear the Dalai Lama speak. It wasn't exactly an ideal trip, because it entailed a long drive in a crowded 9-passenger van, followed by a seemingly endless wait in line to get into a huge college gymnasium with terrible acoustics, which made it difficult to understand the revered Buddhist leader speaking in his heavy, Tibetan accent. 

            But none of that mattered. Powerful vibrations of Love and Joy came shining through His Holiness, filling the hall as he urged us all to take heart.  To discover/recover our own capacity for love and compassion. To focus not on him, but on his message of inner peace as the path to world peace. It was very moving, and his eloquent lessons made the journey seem well worthwhile.

BASKING IN JOY

            Afterwards, we found ourselves drawn into a cluster of people standing outside the stage door where the Dalai Lama's limousine was parked, hoping for a closer look at him. Zet and several other Circle friends, pressed in nearer, and motioned me to join them, but my observer-self chose to hang back. Suddenly the door swung open and a small army of attendants, police and bodyguards began clearing a path, trying their best to move him from the building into the car as quickly as possible - but he would have none of it. He was clearly enjoying the personal interactions, taking his time in shaking hands, bowing repeatedly, kneeling on the ground to play with a baby, smiling sweetly from ear to ear.

            Eventually, the motorcade drove off, and a joyous afterglow radiated through those of us left standing in the driveway. Zet was wearing a particularly huge smile, along with the white, silk scarf around her neck, which the Dalai Lama had held and blessed for her. But rather than feeling happy for her, my joyfulness suddenly evaporated, as I began beating myself up for not having pressed forward along with my friends for this rare opportunity to have physical contact with such a powerful holy man. If only...

LAUGHING AND LEARNING
            And then, just as suddenly, I found myself chuckling at the irony of the situation. We had driven 200 miles, stood patiently in long lines, endured terrible acoustics and long waits, just so we could hear, see and touch a sage whose main message was: "Don't look to me; look to your own heart and your own life." And now here I was, busy kicking myself for not having received his personal blessings. What a good joke! 

            It's so easy to mistake the messenger for the message, to focus on the teacher instead of the teachings. To engage in a meditation technique for the pleasurable sensations involved, rather than staying open to what it might reveal at deeper, more subtle levels. To encounter perfectly viable metaphysical tools, yoga poses, interpersonal processes or breath work techniques intended to help us get focused on the inner movements of Spirit - and wind up focusing on the tools themselves instead.

            Sometimes I remember, and sometimes I forget. But mostly, I feel grateful to be enrolled in this wonderfully complex, life-long school of spiritual growth - and for the many teachers that appear along the way. 

 

With gratitude and blessings,

         Rudi