Mental monkeys like icecream

You never eat alone in India.  Even if you enter a restaurant by yourself, sit by yourself, remove all other chairs form your table, and pretend to be mute, you will still have company.   It was during one such meal that I gained the company of an older Indian man I judged to be in his sixties.  The man had graying hair, a full beard, and that burning Indian curiosity toward foreigners.  He decided to join my table after watching me drop tika masala all down the front of my shirt ( I still haven’t mastered eating with my hands).  I was finishing my meal and about to enjoy an almost cold Kingfisher when he sat down across from me.  I knew it was useless to hint that I just wanted to quietly enjoy my beer, so I just bobbled my head as a greeting without saying anything.  I assumed we would have one of 6 conversations that the local street folk like to use on tourists and then he would ask me for some money, my pen, my notebook, or maybe all three.  I never suspected this man would hold the key to my inner peace.

Our initial conversation involved the usual pleasantries and background info.  We discussed India’s upcoming election, my job, was I married, where had I visited in India so far, why wasn’t I married, what did I think of Obama, when would I be getting married,  What did I think of India,  was my mother sad that I wasn’t married,  on and on for a bit.  I chose to answer the India questions only.  When I mentioned a desire to visit Dharamsala (the Dali Lama’s home in exile) my new friend asked if I was going trekking or to meditate?  I said trekking, but I might meditate if the opportunity presents itself.  My new companion proceeded to explain he was a meditation guru.  Normally I would have dismissed this as a common claim among India men (they are all gurus of something), but my ignorance of meditation made me keep my mouth shut for once.

 I was intrigued by the idea of meditation, after all there must be something to the whole practice considering the number of people that swear by it.  So I continued to listen to this self professed guru with a relatively open mind.  The doors of possibility began to swing shut as he mentioned a typical “Intro to Buddhist meditation” course at a monastery generally involves 10 days.  Most of these 10 days are to be spent sitting absolutely still without speaking.  Intriguing yes, …in the realm of possibilities for me…no.  I can barely sit still long enough to eat a meal, the thought of trying to sustain motionless silence for hours each day, for 10 days was laughable. Restlessness is in my nature and I long ago gave up fighting it. 

 I felt the need to mention this restlessness and further qualify the chances of me sitting still and quiet for 10 days.  I explained to the guru that this was about as likely as one of the nearby street cows bringing me a cold beer.  The man’s reaction was to turn his head to the street and ask me in a rather matter-of-fact tone, “which cow?”  His reaction and confidence in all things being possible made me laugh so I played along.  I suggested the big bull in the bunch would be best and least likely to spill the beer negotiating his way through the traffic.   He turned back to face me with his head bobbling and swaying in common Indian fashion and said, “I think you are right the bull would be the best.”   I told him the idea of a street cow bringing me a cold beer did make the meditation effort more tempting, but it was still very unlikely. There was a pause and then the man said something that made me truly believe he was a guru.  His words made me feel that he had peered deep into my being and found a truth which no one had ever put into words before. 

 He said “You must quiet your mental monkeys before such a journey is possible for you.”  After a pause he continued “Now your monkeys are running around making a lot of noise. You must calm them so that you can sit at peace and cool your heart.”   

 I was completely caught off guard and astonished. Could he hear the monkeys?  Did he have a special vision which allowed him to see within the confines of my skull and observe these monkeys running amuck?   I was shocked, speechless, relieved, and awed all in the same moment.  It was as if he knew me better than anyone I had ever met.   I was transformed into and instant believer.  Questions were flooding into my head. I wanted to know how many monkeys there were. I suspected 3, but couldn’t get a good count.  How many of my actions were these monkeys controlling?  Can these monkeys see us?  Who likes beer more, me or the monkeys?  Is one of the monkeys dressed like a pirate?  I had so many questions, but I didn’t want to alarm the monkeys or draw their attention to the fact we where talking about them. 

 I struggled to remain calm and asked the most burning question of all, “How does one calm these mental monkeys?”  I couldn’t wait for the answer, I was staring at him with an urgency that would have knocked most people off their chair. “How?” I asked again eagerly.  Like any great guru about to impart wisdom he had paused again for effect.  The seconds seemed like an eternity, there I was about to have a life changing moment and he was stroking his mustache in silence.  I was beginning to get concerned, what if the monkeys got wind of the plans to quiet them?   They were inside my head and could wreak a lot of havoc if they disapproved of being “quieted”.

 Finally he spoke, “Monkeys are a curious animal and you must capture their attention before you can quiet them.” 

 I immediately had visions of shoving bananas into my ears.  The thought was uncomfortable but if my new guru suggested it I would do it (using small Asian bananas of course).  I started to wonder if maybe I could draw them out by just holding the bananas close to my ears.  My new guru’s inability to spit out a quick and definite answer was killing me. 

 “ It is not an easy thing to do, it will take much patience and practice and study, your monkeys are loud.”  He said.

 “Damn it man! There must be another way.  Think!  If I had any patience then I wouldn’t need to quiet the monkeys. Can’t you consult some books or stones or charts or something for an alternate method?  Preferably a quick fix? “  

 Well it seemed my new guru was amused by taunting me with cryptic and vague answers.  He suggested we discuss it again some time later and I reluctantly had to agree.  We both feared the possibility of exciting or angering the monkeys. 

 I would have to take comfort in the fact that I had confirmed identification of what it was running around up there. For years I feared it was squirrels, but was somewhat relieved to know it was in fact monkeys.  If they had opposable thumbs I figured at least I could reason with them.  From now on I will sleep with one eye open and bananas on the pillow waiting for the monkeys to come out… then I’ll get ‘em.

Epilogue

I was never to meet my one true guru again.  When I returned the next day to the exact spot of my promised enlightenment I found myself waiting in vain, though not alone of course thanks to the curiosity of the street people of India.

 It should be no surprise to anyone visiting India that countless guru’s are available to help assemble one’s own á la carte spiritualism and life philosophy.  My own spiritual well is wider than it is deep so I can certainly appreciate a pick and choose approach. I think I’ll mix a little Buddhism here, a dash of Hinduism there, a touch of Christian redemption, certainly a smattering of hedonism, and a bit of voodoo just to make the souvenirs in the temple’s gift shop more interesting.  

 An aimless life of travel and leisure can be tough on ones soul, so I welcome the opportunity to be born again through the vast knowledge of India’s gurus. I will emerge as a new me, a better me, I’ll call this person Spiritual Pete.  Spiritual Pete will get some fancy new clothes and invent some new head garb, the likes of which has yet to be seen in India.  Spiritual Pete will be the guru of his own new philosophy and of course have the answers for everything. Best of all my new found spiritualism will be the perfect justification for continuing to do all the things I already do.