Ep. #12: Sid and the Buddha Meet a Real Bodhisattva.*
* Enlightened person who is so compassionate (or such a glutton for punishment) that they return to this crazy world to help other people reach enlightenment.
The Man Who Woke up the Buddha is the story of a guy named Sid who wakes up from a stroke and realizes he's the Buddha, even though he knows almost nothing about Buddhism.
Previously: In preparation for his trip to the Midwest cancer center, Sid studied up on on the dimensions of tumors, golf balls, and testicles until he was joined by his “park person” friend LJ who explained the importance of paying it forward
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Sid was thrilled when he and Di walked into the specialized cancer center where the oncologist Dr. Jay had sent him for a second opinion.
To the Buddha, it felt like a modern version of the most spectacular temples that had been built in his name…like that one in Tibet, with buildings for the monks to live in, seemingly stretching out for kilometers in all directions.
He was relieved not to see some 100’ or 200’ high sculpture of himself in the famous cross-legged position that he hadn’t assumed in 2500 years. Just looking at one gave him cramps in his inner thighs. Especially the stone ones.
“I need coffee,” Di said, noticing the sign that pointed downstairs to the left. “You OK?” It was a rhetorical question. “Should I get you one?”
“Hmm…a chocolate milk would be nice,” Sid said, wandering away from her quizzical look. She had never seen him drink chocolate milk.
It was a little hard to tell whether he was in the lobby of a medical center, luxury hotel, or museum. The art was contemporary and looked famous. Names like Calder, Albers, and Klee came to mind. He would have to ask Di who Calder, Albers, and Klee were.
He had mixed feelings about the sculpture hanging halfway up the three-story wall of the atrium. It was a buck-naked mythic human form holding a torch or a serpent or something that probably represented something medical. He had to admit that the guy looked mythic, heroic, and triumphant—like he’d just discovered a cure for cancer. But he didn’t look very comfortable, hanging there with his butt attached to the wall by a cement protrusion. But like statues of the Buddha, it had a job to do and seemed resigned, if not overjoyed, to be doing it.
It’s not quite like that, the Buddha thought.
Sid wondered whether it was really quite like that. He knew there was spirit in there, just like there had been in Raggedy Ann, but was it the same spirit as the one who had been there first? Do different ones come and go, like having shifts?
It not quite like that either. But closer, the Buddha thought. In every statue there’s a particle that represents the whole.
Maybe, Sid thought, there have to be all those Buddha statues because there are so many parts of me. In fact, maybe I’m just a part of me. Maybe each part represents the whole. There must be a word for that. What time is it back East? Will Zoey be out of school? What the heck. He texted her:
“Hi Z! Is there word for part representing whole?”
It took a few minutes. “Sorry 4 delay. Can’t use cell in class. Got a b-room pass from Mrs. A. Word is holograph, gpa Sid. Talk l8r. LV Z.
I gotta tell Confucius about this kid, the Buddha chuckled to himself.
Maybe I’ll be a statue someday! Sid chuckled to himself.
Seeing the sculpture hanging on the wall from his butt made Sid think about how Christ had been stuck up on the cross for 2,000 years. He’d never thought of that. If he were the Buddha—not that form or this form but him, the Buddha—which he was, ugh, it was complicated.
Exactly, the Buddha sighed. As long as people have me sitting with my legs crossed, part of me is sitting with my legs crossed. Easier than being stuck up on a cross with nails through your hands and feet.
And then there was that Muhammad guy? Were there statues of him? Where was I? Oh yeah. I was the Buddha. I mean I am the Buddha. This particle concept sure complicated things. Gee, he thought chuckling to himself, maybe I shouldn’t have called Zoey!
“Hang in there, guy,” he said, smiling up at the statue on the wall.
While tossing in this sea of circular thinking, Sid found himself drawn inexorably towards the Information Desk which looked like it was suspended between two flying saucers—wooden on top, marble below. He didn’t want information—he felt there was more than enough information in the world already—but, as soon as he got in conversation range, a woman said in the most transcendent of voices, “Can I help you?”
She was a black-suited, silver-haired, sharp-featured woman with model-clear skin and a transcendent polished turquoise stone hanging from a thin silver chain around her neck. She not only would have put the highest-end resort hotel concierge to shame, it was very possible she was the CEO in disguise. Sid didn’t know what to say.
“I saw you looking at the statue,” she added helpfully. “It’s called ‘Man and Freedom.’ The sculptor was inspired by the liberation of prisoners at the end of World War II, but he also wanted to remind people that spiritual freedom is as important as physical freedom.”
Couldn’t have said it better myself, the Buddha thought. Although आध्यात्मिकस्वतन्त्रताया महत्त्वं भौतिकस्वतन्त्रताया इव आसीत्इ ति1 is perhaps a bit more melodic to the human ear.
“Are you lost?” the woman asked Sid again, simultaneously using sign language in case he was deaf.
Sid realized he had no option but to tell her the whole truth and nothing but the truth, without any bad puns, double-entendres, or glibness. The fact was he didn’t need any help. Although he wanted to need help badly. “Well, not really,” he admitted. “I mean I’m having an MRI, but I’m sure my wife knows when and where.”
“Just in case, it’s on the third floor…you take a left when you get off the elevator. The curved glass atrium corridor leads you there. Here’s a floor map.”
Sid was so mesmerized by her exquisitely long manicured hands with similarly turquoise nail polish that the map fell right through his hands. She laughed sympathetically as he picked it up…but not too much, since whatever condition he had might be causing some neuropathy, she thought…adding, “And if you need someone to take you two up, I’d be happy to get one of our guides.”
“Thank you so much,” Sid said, still struggling to speak in the presence of such a luminous being. “I’m sure we can find our way. My wife has a very good sense of direction.” He was quite proud of mentioning his wife again instead of asking the woman to marry him.
“Well, please ask anytime either of you need help finding your way around…it’s kind of a big place. It can be overwhelming the first time.”
“It is,” he agreed, looking around, with uncomplicated honesty.
“And,” she looked him right in the eyes. “You’re going to be OK. Whatever happens. You’re going to be OK.”
Working at an Information Desk was the perfect job for a Bodhisattva, the Buddha reflected. I’ll have to add it to the Career Opportunities listings.
“Are you a volunteer?” Sid asked.
“Yes,” she said.
Even better, the Buddha thought.
Sid finally couldn’t help himself. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” he said, returning to his true nature.
She smiled, her face lightening gently. It was not the first time she’d been asked.
“I guess just because I really love doing it. All I have to do is welcome people…be welcoming. No planning, no meetings, no protocol. A complete change from my life before.”
“Sounds like almost a spiritual practice,” he said brightly, being somewhat of an expert in these things. “What did you do before?”
She laughed, knowing he’d appreciate the irony: “I was a corporate lawyer! The people here kept my husband alive three years longer than anyone thought possible,” she continued. “I was so grateful, that when he died, I just wanted to stay to help. And, I was in a position to do so.”
Sid figured she meant financially and left it at that. “Are you still a lawyer?”
“A little. Mostly pro bono.” She stopped as if suddenly realizing she had walked into the middle of a crosswalk against the light. “Well, my job is to help you, not talk about myself.”
“It’s all the same to me,” he said brightly.
Me too, the Buddha thought.
The lady gave Sid a thankful smile as a couple approached the desk, confused about which exit they should take to get back to their hotel. Somehow, she answered in a way that made Sid feel like she was still talking to him.
As they left, the Buddha put his hands together and bowed to the woman, laughing. Sid did the same displaying both his own spirit of devotion as well as his calling-card stitches. “Well, you’ve probably seen it all,” Sid said.
“Yes, but it’s different for everyone,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here.”
The Buddha wondered why there weren’t 100’ sculptures of this woman in temples all over the world. “Blessings,” Sid said to his own surprise. “I feel I’ve come home.”
“You have,” she said smiling sweetly.
The Buddha smiled back transcendentally as he and Sid wandered off.
The area was crowded but Sid found a chair with an empty one next to it so Di could sit down…if she was ever able to find him. He had forgotten his cell phone at the hotel. But he assumed that the woman at the Information Desk would be able to help her. She probably knew where everyone was at all times.
“Sid!” Di called out. “I’ve been looking all over for you. It’s time for your MRI!”
She handed him a bottle of chocolate milk.
Next Episode: Things get a little wild in the MRI machine as Sid passes out and Buddha has to deal with one of the most murderous dictators in history.
Transliteration: aadhyatmikasvatantrataya mahattvam bhoutikasvatantrataya iv aasitai ti.