The thought occurs that a more accurate title for this book might be The Countless Mistakes of a Clueless Disciple.
But then I reflect that the stories that most reliably move us tell how a person has erred, and through difficult life experiences has grown wiser.
We see our lives in those stories. They tell us: “You, too, can know happiness. You, too, can please God. You only need to persevere. God knows your good intentions, and He doesn’t mind your mistakes.”
A large group of devotees from the Mountain View Ananda community were assembled at the San Francisco Airport to greet Swamiji on his arrival from Italy.
The crowd was larger than usual – over a hundred of us waited in the arrival area.
As Swamiji’s form appeared on the escalator, the crowd surged forward.
I was positioned in the front row. The people standing behind me pushed me directly into Swamiji’s path. An absurd thought entered my mind, “Maybe this is where I’m supposed to be, so he can give me a personal greeting.”
If that isn’t blush-worthy! Swamiji clearly perceived my thought. He came to a full stop before our small section of the group and looked impersonally at us and said, in his firm, cheerful voice, “Good to see all of you. God bless you.”
He then toddled on, leaving Rambhakta with a great deal to ponder.
Two years later, Swamiji visited our Mountain View community on the weekend of our yearly outdoor festival, “Celebrate Ananda.” It was a splendid day – the large green courtyard, overhung with tall shading trees, was filled with hundreds of Ananda members and guests wandering happily among booths for Ananda Sangha, Living Wisdom School, East West Bookshop, and various Ananda healers and crafts workers.
At one point, Swamiji made a grand tour of the exhibits, visiting the booths while talking with the crowd. As always in his company, laughter rang in the air.
I was busily snapping pictures as I followed Swamiji’s progress. We then came to a point where his path led through a narrow gap between two groups of waiting devotees. Surely, you’ve guessed the sequel? Rambhakta stood in the front row, directly in Swami’s path as the crowd pressed forward.
This time I got the joke. Laughing inwardly, I thought, “If y’all don’t stop pushing, you’re gonna get an elbow in the ribs!”
I refused to be personal, having learned my lesson. I didn’t want to take anything from Swamiji. The mood of the day was of joyful expansion in the presence of our enlightened teacher. I wanted only to give.
I was amused by the situation, which was an exact replica of the airport scene two years earlier. As Swamiji approached, he smiled broadly and said, “Oh, are you still taking pictures?” Cheerfully, I said, “Yes, Sir!” and snapped a few frames as he passed. Do you know what pleases Swamiji? I’ll leave it to you to decipher.