Tonight, I met a couple of pilgrims. I call them by that name because I can’t really think of anything more appropriate, and I am sure there are lots of people who would weigh in with something a bit derogatory to say. This is a story that will not sound so strange when I tell it, but I assure you, from the seat I was sitting in, this stuff just doesn’t happen. Also, it’s a little funny.
I had earlier called Jun to find out if he wanted to share some dinner time. Stating that he had already eaten, he asked me to come over once I had taken care of business; after getting off the phone with him I promptly, and unexpectedly I might add, fell asleep for about an hour. By the time I arose from my nap, sitting up in my chair no less, I jumped up and rushed out to meet up with Jun. Because I hadn’t actually eaten, I stopped off for some quick food and consumed it on the way. Pulling up to the studio, I sent him a text letting him know that I was downstairs waiting for him and proceeded to pet the bodacious building cat. She is all black, just like my Strider, awesome.
For some reason, still unknown, Jun hadn’t responded to my text message so I sent another and waited for the reply. A truly beautiful night made waiting a joy rather than a chore. It is so quiet there when no one is around, just me and the kitties. So I waited. After about 30 minutes without any sort of response I decided that I might just consider the peace of the place in that moment as a fine adventure indeed. Just about that time, my pilgrims trudged around the corner and right up to me on the platform. I naturally assumed that they were artists with a studio in the building, but then they started asking me where I could find the Krishna temple in the area. There were two of them; a man and a woman in shorts, bandanas and urban safari gear.Young, or at least younger than me.
“Kalachanji’s?” I asked in response to their inquiry.
“Yes!” came their cheerful affirmation. Kalachanji’s is a lovely place, but not all that close from where these two had ended up on foot.
“Well, that’s pretty far out in that direction,” I indicated in a gesture that could by no means be considered accurate. The young lady, rumpled her nose at that news.
“Maybe there is another one around here.” I didn’t want them to be upset about how far off course they were. I fired up the ole iPhone and started poking around the maps to find out if there was something in the area that I had missed. With all signs pointing to no, they were realizing that they had been roaming away from their destination the entire time. The iPhone seemed almost like a thing of wonder in their hands, I take it they were not the smart phone type, but I showed them how to pull up some trusty Google™ walking directions. We talked a bit about the strange way that Dallas streets are laid out while I watched the look of confusion creep onto their faces. It’s not easy getting to this place on foot, not in this part of town… at night.
So, naturally, I offered them a ride; which they were more then happy to accept considering their situation.
“You know, I’m not surprised that you offered,” the young man said to me. That comment was a little strange, but I think he had found a touch of spiritual inspiration in me.
“I just finished a 10 day meditation…”
“That’s cool man,” I couldn’t leave the guy hanging. So we jumped into the car and set off for the temple. The ride wasn’t a long one, but we spent a few minutes talking about origin. They made it all the way down here from Canada. When I asked why Dallas; he just told me it was a new place. The the problem with being a total hippie, is the lack of responsibility. Though I would not make a good hippie, there is definitely something floating around in my subconscious that respects the total lack of fear and boldness to pull up your anchor and just go. That, however, is beside the point. After a tiny dispute over the correct route (this from the guy who wondered on foot a few miles away from his destination), we pull up to the temple and I let out my pilgrims to continue their journey into the life that has no weight, and also no gravity.
“Enjoy happiness,” he says to me, shaking my hand and stepping out of the car.
“How could you not enjoy happiness,” she quickly follows up as they make their way to the temple entrance. Then they were gone.
For what it’s worth, I enjoyed my time with these charming Canadian pilgrims wondering around a questionable part of Dallas, on foot, in the dark. Kudus my friends, I hope you find what you’re looking for.
We could all learn something from people like them, but not too much.
Don’t forget now, “Enjoy happiness!”