Reflections

This trip was not one of new discovery it was more about re-awakening a part of me that has been buried for so very long. As a younger man I traveled a lot of different paths searching for some kind of spiritual truth. I felt compelled to look for answers. Somewhere along the line I felt that I had the answers. Then, broadsided by the demands of western society the spiritual quest slipped a little more with each passing year until it became simply something I once did. I still cared deeply about it, but told myself I was satisfied with the answers I had found. And that may be true. I had found some pretty wonderful answers to life's questions over the years. The problem is I wasn't applying them to my daily life.

As a small child I remember questioning the nuns at St. Catherine's. Where was God? What did he look like? How come we can't see him? I remember the answer so clearly. Sister Rose telling us that "God is all around us. That he is the sky and the trees that he is everything and that we are all a part of God." I really liked that answer and imagined God in the wind blowing through the trees with dappled sunlight coming through the waving branches, or blowing across the ocean with the waves crashing on the shore. (St. Catherine's was only 2 blocks from the beach).

Around the same time I remember having mass explained. That the tabernacle on the alter was where God lived and that every Sunday when the priest said mass he would would open the door of the tabernacle where the host and the wine were and let God out. This really confused me. If God was everything how did they get him inside that little house and why would he stay in there until the priest let him out? That, at least, is how I remember hearing it.

One morning when I was in the first grade the fog was so thick on the playground you couldn't see the school 20 yard away. It was magic. The cool moisture on my skin, the sound of the nearby ocean. I remember that day so clearly. It was God all around me. I really liked God being everything and everywhere.

Then there was the other conflicting image of God. God the punisher! God high upon a marble throne. Scowling down upon poor little me. He knew everything. He saw everything. All decked out in white robes, a long white beard to match his long white hair. Kinda like Gandolf without the hat. With his staff in his left hand a and a boney finger of his right pointing at me, eyes glaring out from under bushy eyebrows he accuses me in a booming voice, "You took that cookie without asking" I knew I was condemned to hell with all those poor people who were never baptised.

Yup. I like the other God. You know the one who was all things. That seemed like a much better idea.

It's funny I don't remember being to concerned about the devil. I mean, if God created all things he had to be more powerful than the Devil, right. So I reasoned that the Devil probably wasn't all that tough, besides the angels beat him up pretty good when they kicked him out of heaven. So it made sense that if I had God looking after me as well as some pretty tough angels the devil was nothing to worry about.

So how does this all tie into my trip to India. I'm still not sure, but I'm getting there.

As a young teen I came across the Castaneda books. I thought they were amazing. Especially when I got to the third book and he talked about how the peyote and the other drugs were not needed to become a "man of knowledge". I thought how cool it would be to have a teacher, someone who would show you the way. I read more and heard about these great meditators who lived as hermits and spent their lives in meditation. How amazing would it be to have one of them as a teacher. I remember praying to whoever would listen to please send me a teacher. I wasn't sure how to go to the mountain to find this source of wisdom. As it turned out I didn't have to. The mountain came to me.

1992 was probably the worst year of my life. My grandmother passed away early in the year and shortly after my father passed away. My marriage fell apart for reasons I'll not go into here. If your curious ask me sometime. 1992 was also one of the best years of my life. I went to a meditation class that turned out to be an introduction to Buddhism class. It was there that I met my future wife, Andrea. She wrote me off at the time, I wasn't her type! It also started me on a new path. A path that brought the mountain to me.

It was a cold winter day when Geshe Tsulga arrived in Raleigh. It was also a day that changed my life. Here was the teacher that I had been looking for. I didn't realize it at the time of course, but there he was. That was 15 years ago. An awful lot has happened since then. I haven't been the best of students and wonder at my fortune at having such an amazing teacher. This trip to India and all of the events that have lead up to it has re-awakened that little boy inside who fell in love with the idea that God is everything and everything is God. I kinda like the idea of being a part of God. Sister Rose was right, everything is God and God is everything. It's all interconnected. None of it exists the way it appears. That's the fun part. The exciting part. To learn to see it how it truly exists!

Bilbo