The Most Simple Truth

When I was a teenager, I was hungry for truth. I never felt like I had the kind of relationship with my parish priest where I thought I could ask him for a chat on the meaning of life. My parents were either too busy or gave me the impression that this wasn’t anything to think or worry about. I did, and it made me feel very alone.

Hanging out at Lake Calhoun in the seventies was interesting. I’d go down there for walks, sitting around reading and sometimes just chatting with folks. There was the guy Tim, who thought he was God, who explained his theory of life as there being Red people and Blue people, Red people he’d explain, were takers, “Takers, man, they just take, take, take from you, you know.” Blue people were givers, “Like you, you are are a Blue person.” I think he was on drugs, but he seemed harmless enough, especially to me, since, well, I was a Blue person. He seemed old to me then, he was probably about 23.

Then there was this other guy, named Levi. Well, Levi was also probably in his early twenties, (I was around 15), and rode around the lakes on a bike. He had stringy, dusty blond hair in a ponytail, and wire rimmed glasses. We’d talk every so often and then he’d ride off on his bike. He told me about the book Siddhartha, and so I read that. It was my first introduction to Eastern thought. Interesting. One time, when he found me sitting at Lake of the Isles, he was so happy to see me. He’d been biking around with a book he’d wanted me to read. When I expressed surprise that he’d gone to such lengths to find me, he sagely replied, “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. If you know it’s there, you’ll find it.”

The book he wanted me to read was Be Here Now, by Ram Dass. Both the book, and his unique way of looking at life has stayed with me. Well, the book, we eventually met up and I gave him the book back, but I own my own copy now. I bought it a few years ago when I decided to reclaim a few important things to me; when I did my own soul retrieval, and called out for my pieces to come back. Be Here Now, came back. I too came back, back to Minneapolis where I grew up. Back to the lakes area where I feel at home. And last weekend, I came home to Buddhism, again. I attended a three day meditation weekend with Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche at the Carondelet Center in St. Paul. A Catholic Center, hosting a Buddhist teacher, a bit like my life.

A Catholic girl, moving things around, making space for Buddhism. The weekend was life changing. The teachings simple and profound. The teacher, both wise and happy. The meditation practice that I did over the weekend gave me much clarity in the midst of the confusion and busy-ness of my life. I’d been studying meditation for a couple of years now, without community or strict practice. Trying it out, I’d guess you could say. Now, I’m happy to say, it fits. I’ve circled around and around and find myself back. It’s good.

The yearning most of us feel for a lasting happiness is the “small, still voice” of the natural mind, reminding us of what we’re really capable of experiencing. The Buddha illustrated this longing through the example of the mother bird that has left her nest. No matter how beautiful the place she has flown to, no matter how many new and interesting things she sees there, something keeps pulling her to return to her nest. In the same way, no matter how absorbing daily life might be- no matter how great it may temporarily feel to fall in love, receive praise, or get the “perfect job”--the yearning for a state of complete, uninterrupted happiness pulls at us. In a sense, we’re homesick for our true nature.
The Joy of Living, Yongey MIngyur Rinpoche