Lao Tzu and I are sitting in a bamboo clearing, having a conversation.
Lao Tzu ‘ the teacher is the one who sits under the shade of a tree. He has no striving. Striving is the sign of the student.’
I ask him, ‘what is striving?’
He replies, ‘ striving is catching the pulse of the soul and using it as a way to move ahead. My message is only one. Connect to your path and walk on it. Bring your living requirements to the minimum, and immerse yourself in the study of the soul, the spirit, this immeasurable universe,' he says with the expanse of his hand.
Then with a twinkle of his eye, he asks, 'do you have anything better to do? If you do, go ahead and do it, as I sit back and relax.'
This was getting dangerously close to being dismissed, so I quickly asked again, 'dear Master, when will I also just sit like you under the bamboo shade, with nothing to do?'
He laughed, ' you want to sit here like me under the shade of the bamboo trees, doing nothing? You would be bored to death! Many have tried, some have succeeded to an extent too, but eventually run away. See, your body yearns for action, your muscles are impatient to move, your eyes are restless to see, your legs want to walk around the vicinity, and your mind is all over.'
With a sweet smile he said, 'stay as long as you desire. When the desire burns out, allow the next one to take you where it wills.'
Hmm. I couldn't decide if that was a gentle snub to my spiritual aspirations, or an initiation into my next level of practice. In my heart I knew he spoke the truth. I was strangely at peace, simply sitting in the bamboo clearing, for once, not feeling compelled to do anything, say anything, or even decide anything.
The Master was walking around quietly in the clearing as I half watched, half dozed. His footsteps were soundless and his long flowing robe made a musical soft sound in the breeze. A very divine fragrance filled the air. I saw the him shape a piece of bamboo into a flute. There was complete stillness as he worked, just the gentle breeze through the bamboo leaves. There was not a soul around as far as I knew. After an indecipherable amount of time his flute was done. He handled the flute with a gentleness that communicated with it.
He came back and sat down in the clearing again. He looked at me with a glint in his eyes. He possessed the liveliest eyes I'd ever seen. I simply watched him with respect. He did not speak. He played with the flute in his hands for a long time. I would have loved to know what he was communicating with it. Eventually, he put it to his lips. I waited for the melodious sound to float through the air. Nothing happened! The master was immersed in the play of the flute, but the music was not audible to my material ears. I knew his music filled the spheres, I could sense it in an uncanny way in my heart.
Slowly, I felt as if my sense of self began to expand. A soothing, comforting feeling enveloped me. I drifted into a reverie.
(this piece was typed on a flight from Kolkata to Mumbai, as if in a daydream, on 22nd March, 2011)
