The Guru Diaries, parts 1-3

Part One, The Language Problem

The famed guru was effusively talking to the crowd, saying everything was love, that it was all god. From their questions and comments he realized they had their own interpretations of those words, and had no idea what he was talking about. He left the satsang, and vanished from the scene.

Years later, at a country western bar somewhere in the Himalayas, one of his old followers saw him at a booth in the corner, scribbling away in a notebook with volumes of dictionaries and a large thesaurus on the table. The former follower told him how much he was missed, and asked if his guru would ever return and speak to people once again.

The guru stopped writing, nodded his head, and said, “Yes, yes, absolutely. I intend to give many talks! And this time, all of my teachings will be spoken with absolute clarity. Just as soon as I find some words that don’t already have definitions!” 💓

 

Part Two, Happy Thoughts

The guru told the gathering that there was no self, no others, no world, no freedom, no way to awaken or become liberated. Then he told them that there was no right or wrong, good or evil, future or past.

The crowd became restless and started to stir. He saw the confused and distressed look on their faces, so he forced a big smile and quickly added, “And of course…it’s all LOVE.”

The crowd relaxed, smiled, and happily signed up for the next retreat where they hoped they might have better luck getting enlightened. The guru decided not to discuss the implications of saying it’s “ALL” love, and just kept smiling as he posed for pictures with the seekers next to the vase of flowers on the table. 💓

 

Part Three, Love

When the guru first started giving satsangs, after so many people asked about what they called his enlightenment, he was a little sad that he never seemed to be able to accurately convey what he felt. It seemed like people simply didn’t understand most of what he said.

Then, after a few years, he realized that what he was trying to communicate was impossible, so the only ones who would ever understand him were the ones who already had this perception and simply smiled and nodded in the back row with tears in their eyes.

Now it’s seen that he was never talking to any one at all, that all that appears before him are radiant eyes like a night sky filled with luminous stars, and none of the words were ever his to begin with. Or he sometimes says he sees that he is only talking to himself, if he wants to make it seem personal.

Either way, it’s no longer felt that any words come closer or farther away, or that it matters how his talks appear to be received. The dream of communication and communion between teacher and student has been replaced by an awareness of shared intimacy beyond the illusion of separate identity that can never be defined in language. But is felt as love. 💓