Guru

My wife Avril and I are preparing to facilitate a meditation retreat at Unity Church of the Triangle in Raleigh this coming Saturday, September 12.  Preparing for a retreat, even a one-day, is still a big deal to me.  I don't take anything for granted and try not to recycle the same old schedule or an old, stale talk.  Each time is different, each retreat and each moment of it are unique.  Sometimes I don't know what the theme will be until the morning the retreat starts.  This time, I'm lucky: I knew what our theme would be yesterday morning, a whole 6 days ahead.  With great synchronicity, the minister at UCT had that exact same theme as the subject of his lesson yesterday and he kindly put in a plug for the retreat.  He also referred to me as "our resident guru" on mindfulness and insight meditation, and I nearly hid my head in my hands.

I believe I'm so sensitive about anyone referring to me as a "guru" because I've had the good fortune to spend time with a few.  The word "guru" refers to an individual who has the unusual capacity to let you see yourself exactly as you are, to hold the space of Divine Being wide open so you are invited to step in.  I know the real thing; I may be a good teacher, but I'm no guru.

My original Zen Master, Seung Sanh, was a guru.  He appeared to me from out of nowhere, clear as day, while I was walking around Walden Pond in Concord, Massachusetts, and then abruptly vanished into the ether.  He led me to the Cambridge Zen Center where I finally met him in a more permanent form.  He knew me before I knew myself, held my feet to the fire, laughed heartily and readily, and had eyes that were vast, open, and completely still and unmoving.  So does Gurumayi Chidvalasananda, a true Siddha guru with whom I've had the great good fortune to spend time as well.  She reflected back to me the reality of who I was right at that moment and held the space so clearly that I had no choice but to feel and accept it.  I've also spent time with Amachi, and had the good fortune to see the Dalai Lama speak to a crowd of less than 2,000.  They all are human, they all have feet of clay, and at the same time they are all gurus.  They have that ability to show us with absolute clarity the best and worst of who we are.

We've taken the word "guru" to mean "expert," and I'm sure that's what Neusom Holmes, the marvelous minister and Unity Church of the Triangle, meant when he called me a "guru."  I really don't see myself as an expert on mindfulness practice or insight meditation either, but if he does that's ok.  I just prepare, do my best and trust the Divine to be there and guide me.  The Divine always obliges.  Whatever I ask for, whatever I truly and honestly hold in my heart, manifests.  I'm the side-show: I do my tapdance and soft-shoe and the Divine does the heavy lifting effortlessly.

I can be a bit more sanguine about this "guru" business when I remember Swami Beyondananda's "Guru Chant:"

G  U  R  U
G  U  R  U
G  U  R  U
Gee, You Are You!!

That works for me!