Meeting The Master

I had waited years to set eyes upon him.

So many things I had been searching for.

So much I longed to know.

A strange place.

Through the dense mist.

The figure of a man, back turned toward me.

Silent.

I feel a hesitation, an anxiety . . .

Questions race through my mind.

Followed by judgments of their worthiness.

Q: Questioner

M: Master

Q: Before coming to you, I had so many questions. Now, I am uncertain what it is I seek to ask.

M: (Silence)

Q: What is it that you know, Master?

M: (A gentle sigh)

Q: I have struggled my entire life. I have attained success. Wealth. Position. Family. But I have never truly gained what I seek. I do not know the word for it. Peace. Satisfaction. Contentment. Freedom. I have never become free of anxieties.

M: (Silence)

Q: Perhaps I do not know what precisely I am in search of. But I do not have it. This much I know.

M: (Silence)

Q: I have done good things. I have done bad things. I look at some of the things I have said and done, and I am deeply ashamed. But I do not seek absolution or forgiveness. I condemned myself. This did nothing. I forgiven myself. This also did nothing. I do not know where else to go, Master. Nor what to ask.

M: (Silence)

Q: What is it that I have not realized?

M: Truth.

Q: What is the Truth?

M: (Silence)

Q: How did you discover Truth?

M: (Silence)

Q: There is a feeling I am experiencing . . . I could sit in this place forever.

M: (Silence)

I soon became aware of the fact that the questions that had been running through my mind were of no merit, no consequence. Empty questions whose answer would leave me just as empty.

I sat before him, in a state of . . . not knowing. A part of me anxious to ask a “wise” question. Another part of me seeing through my insecurities.

Perhaps there was no true “question.”

My entire life I had been searching for answers. But none of them had done a thing for me. They had created only more questions.

Q: I do not know what to ask, Master. Perhaps there is no question worthy of asking. I can only state that I have a longing. For what I cannot say. But it beats strong within my chest. And nothing I have attained in my life has satisfied it.

M: (Silence)

Q: Perhaps the longing to satisfy the longing is my problem. Could this be it? Perhaps the freedom I seek is the freedom from all longings.

I cannot deny having felt . . . accomplished . . . for having coming to this conclusion. I cannot deny a certain hope that the Master would notice it, and be impressed by it.

He said nothing.

Q: I do not know what to ask. I am at a complete loss for words.

M: (Silence)

Q: Do you care, Master? Do you have any wish to help me?

The Master disappeared into the mist.

His attendant took me by the arm and escorted me away.

I asked him why the Master walked away.

He said he did not know.

I sat with myself that evening.

I could not leave without trying again.

I had allowed my emotions to get the best of me.

Truth be told, there was nothing for me to go back to. A life of suffering, ignorance, and dissatisfaction. A life of endless chases, in a world empty and futile.

Even if the Master never spoke a word to me, there were no empty chases with him. No silly games.

Even if I never learned a thing, a life free of all chases would be worth it.

I had to see him again.

This time, I would approach as a different man.

One just as ignorant.

But with a modicum of Sincerity that had blossomed that evening, under the pale blue light of the moon.

The attendant had pleaded my case to him. Having succeeded, he took me by the arm and led me back to him.

Same place.

The Master’s back turned toward me.

Q: Master, I do not seek to impress you. Truth be told, I have nothing to impress you with. The Truth is, that I do not know. I do not even know what knowing is. I do not know what I should be seeking. Or if there is anything to seek. I do not want any good feelings. I no longer have any interest in happiness. For this is a search that has consumed my entire life. And I have faith in it no longer. I do not even know if I seek answers. Perhaps I am deluding myself, but something within me seems ready for Truth.

I sat in silence for what felt like hours.

And I did not feel the pangs of anticipation that had plagued me the day before.

Then, he spoke.

M: What is it that you seek to know?

Q: I suppose I could ask you a question, and perhaps receive an answer. But what will I do with this answer? I do not know what I seek to know. If I mine the depths of my desire, I come to only one conclusion . . . I want what you have.

A long silence.

M: Return tomorrow.

 

(To be continued . . .)

Namaste.