This group of men had become my family, and leaving them was difficult. I went through the motions of following the schedule for the next few days, but halfheartedly, faced with the reality of striking out on my own again with Conqueror, my solitary companion, and once more following a restless heart down unfamiliar roads.

The day before I left, however, I had another run in with the girl with the almond eyes, and she was troubled. We had gathered in the hall for the meal as usual, sitting along the walls facing inward toward the middle of the floor where a small crowd of villagers was waiting to hear the customary discourse. That day, a John gave a talk explaining why it is that we attempt to keep action going in our lives - why we try to keep our minds occupied and ahead of the emptiness that lurks just under the surface.

"This constant distraction," he began, "is more important than all the gold in the world, because it is not wealth we crave but the feeling that we are real, that we are accomplishing, and that there is an underlying reality behind all of our activities. We long for the power of achievement, the realizing of a goal: ‘I am.' ‘I do.' ‘I accomplish.' These things reinforce the ‘I,' which then must be protected and defended, instilling fear and destroying any possibility of love.

"When the action stops, perhaps voluntarily by our inner work or perhaps involuntarily by natural causes, our past frenzied activity washes over us again and again until we finally become quiet, laid bare to the emptiness. We have hidden from it for a long time, this emptiness, and we have pushed it aside as well, but there will come a time when we will have no choice but to face it.

"Now our worldly minds become frightened, faced with the fact that nothing lasts and everything changes. Unable to find security, this insubstantiality causes discontent, which is intensified when we discover that no fundamental reality can be found behind anything, including ourselves."

He was speaking seriously to the villagers about the three characteristics of material existence, which are impermanence, discontent, and so self, and why we cannot count on worldly things for our happiness. He explained that for one thing; worldly experiences are transient and will always change, and secondly; that at some point, they will always cause discontent when we are either separated from them or cannot get rid of them. Thirdly, there is no underlying reality in or behind any of them - everything is empty. These same characteristics were mentioned by the blacksmith those many years ago at my throne when I was so full of myself that I could not hear.

When he finished speaking, the assembled villagers bowed and left the hall, except for one; it was the disturbed young girl. A John asked if I would remain with him, as it was one of our rules never to speak privately with a woman. The robed men had one priority; finding the key, and they wanted no misunderstandings with the villagers regarding conduct.

When a John asked the girl if she wanted to speak with him, she replied, "I came to your talk to feel good and be uplifted, but instead I come away depressed and anxious. I wish I would have stayed home."

As a John studied the young woman, he could see in her a frightened, young rabbit that would run away if he were not careful. She was completely enmeshed within the illusions of her life, convinced she could keep her happiness in tact within the shifting sands of this world. In her present situation, she would resist understanding the truth of any situation, notwithstanding a skeleton lying outside on a table as testimony to a John's talk of change and discontent. But the young woman refused to acknowledge this, and a John's mentioning of it would have been fruitless. She was well aware of the story of the skeleton, and she chose to ignore it.

A John smiled at her, and then spoke very softly, "The truth is not obvious to many people, and seeing things as they really are is not easy for us. We are frightened of emptiness, and therefore our reaction is usually one of anger when confronted by it. This is what is happening to you, and I am faced with the task of easing your fear without compromising the truth. Can you help me do that?"

She remained obstinate, staring at the floor.

"I am a key seeker and as such have no agenda," a John quietly continued. There is no reason for me to say things that manipulate people in any way. I simply speak the truth, as I understand it, and suggest that people look at what I say, and over the period of a lifetime experiment with my teachings to prove everything either true of untrue for themselves. It is not my intention to bring you unhappiness, as I am merely a truthful messenger. If the villagers do not like my messages, they can stop feeding me and I will move on, but I would never compromise that which I have found to be true. Would you want me to do less than that?"

Her head was still down but, close to tears, she shook her head indicating a "no."

A John carefully considered which words would be appropriate for this situation, taking into account the young woman's state of mind. He began, "You see, sometimes we feel incomplete, we feel lonely, and we try to fill a bottomless hole inside of ourselves with the people and things we love. If the love we feel for them is merely one dimensional, however, meaning that we love this person but hate that one, then this love is not love at all, but merely an attachment providing only a surface happiness. This surface happiness is laden with underlying dread because surface happiness is always dependent upon other people and things, things beyond our ultimate control. And even though we might try to control them, we can't. Control can never be love, since it is derived from fear. As a result, the people and things that we love sadly become soft, velvet ribbons that bind us like iron chains around our necks."

She remained respectfully silent.

A John continued, "Disappointments grow from seeds of expectation, and our expectations will prove to be unrealistic if based on surface happiness, because surface happiness can only satisfy expectation momentarily, and tragically, this surface happiness is the only happiness that worldly existence offers. I am well aware of the fact that key seekers must endure their pain also, both physically and mentally, but it is an unusual kind of pain, a pain that is working toward eventually ending all pain forever, resulting not in a surface happiness but in the deepest, most permanent happiness imaginable.

"This deep happiness," a John continued, "is an eternal happiness and does not depend in any way on external situations for it consists of unconditional, undirected love. Unfortunately, we cannot have both types of happiness. We must make a choice. If we choose the shallow happiness, it will be easily attained, but easily lost. The deep happiness, if chosen however, is difficult to attain, but can never be lost. It is our minds that achieve the surface happiness which quickly disappears, but it is our intuitive heart that contains our permanent happiness. All we need to do is open our hearts for it to appear. This is the purpose of our inner work."

A John stopped for a moment to assess her reaction because a good teacher only instructs at the level of his student. She seemed to comprehend everything, however, although probably not agreeing with it, but the fact that she was still there, listening to him, indicated she was sincerely seeking answers deep in her heart.

He knew that his words would bypass her mind for now, but also knew that they would lodge in her heart and someday take root when the soil and conditions were more favorable, and when the tricks of the world would weaken in their fascination, giving her heart a chance to escape their treachery. On this day, however, the young woman's understanding stopped at her personal world, made up of the people and things surrounding her that were her security. These were her refuges, and she was not willing to gamble on something unfamiliar. The young girl wanted a surety, a long-term contract, and this simply is not offered in the spiritual world. ( To be continued)

(hr)

E. Raymond Rock of Fort Myers, Florida is cofounder and principal teacher at the Southwest Florida Insight Center, http://www.SouthwestFloridaInsightCenter.com His twenty-nine years of meditation experience has taken him across four continents, including two stopovers in Thailand where he practiced in the remote northeast forests as an ordained Theravada Buddhist monk. His book, A Year to Enlightenment (Career Press/New Page Books) is now available at major bookstores and online retailers. Visit http://www.AYearToEnlightenment.com