continuing silence

10/10/14

  I used to work at a health club located in a private, gated community. There was a meditation instructor who was employed there as well. He was very quiet. When he did choose to speak, it was always some piece of sage advice or an astute observation uttered in an almost whispered voice. When he moved, it was as if he was under water, his motions slow and gracefully fluid.
  The meditation instructor was treated with an almost awed respect by the members and employees of the health club. I was very impressed with him as well. I admired how composed and utterly immune to life's petty annoyances he appeared to be. I truly envied his deep inner peace.
  It was a gated community with its own security staff, so employees often had to wait in line at the visitor's entrance, while guards admitted their cars one by one. This tedious process was an annoyance, especially when you had to deal with it on a daily basis.
  I was waiting in line one day, when the admittance process seemed to be taking even longer than usual. I was already late and my irritation was growing exponentially with every passing minute. Then i happened to notice that the meditation instructor was behind the wheel of the car in front of me. He seemed unperturbed by the wait, aloof and above life's little annoyances, seated calmly in his bmw. I chastised myself for not being more like this serene soul.
  As i watched him admiringly, he suddenly waved one of his hands, as if to shoo away a fly or a bee. Soon he started to wave his other hand as well. Before long, he was wildly flailing both his arms around his head, gyrating around in his car like a teenager in a mosh pit, all the while thrashing madly at some winged assailant.
  At this point, tears were rolling down my face. I'm a little ashamed to admit they were from hysterical laughter rather than empathy. I couldn't catch my breath long enough to yell, "Get out of your car!" or offer some real assistance.
  As if he'd heard my unuttered advice, his door suddenly flew open. He then jumped from his beemer, swinging a rolled magazine around his head like a drunk swordsman, while loudly cursing the airborne demon. The bug appears to have lost interest at this point, and consequently decided to fly away. With a final expletive, the meditation instructor hurled his magazine at the exiting insect and got back into his car.
  The line eventually advanced, and when he reached the guard house, the security man recognized him. He nodded his head respectfully at the meditation instructor and quickly lifted the gate so the shaman could be on his way.