A Tale of Two Journeys......Ommmmmmmm

Once upon a time, a woman set out on a journey away from all that she had ever known.  It ended up turning into many journeys.  In the last two weeks, there have been two major journeys.  One has included a seventeen-foot U-Haul truck she drove through four states with a cat named Spazz (and was reminded how much hair the feline sheds) and her tweenage daughter.  The other journey included a read through Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha. 

Here's yet another reminder that cosmic forces are at play.  I just happened to pick up this book around the time I was getting ready to do another move.  It had been on my reading shelf for a few months.  I like to think thematically, so perhaps it was subconscious.  Perhaps it was cosmic.  I prefer to think in this instance...that it was cosmic.

One of the first topics about this book that sticks out in my mind is the last manifestation Siddhartha takes in his many journeys: as a ferryman commuting people across a river.  His words on how the river speaks to the two ferrymen as a source for universal knowledge is beloved to me.  What is most beautiful is the description of the word "om" as related to the river.  For some reason I've read a lot about Eastern spirituality in the last two years, but I've never come across a description like Hesse gives in this book. 

Some people treat events, memories, moments like bookmarks in their lives... a point which signals the beginning or end to some new chapter.  Books are often like that for me.  I can often tell you the book I was reading at a particular moment in my life, or recall a time in my life by what I was reading then.  It will forever be an indelible imprint upon my soul that I finished my return journey back to Colorado and this book at the same time.  Even more distinct in my mind will be the precious occurrence of relishing the last pages on my first hike back in this beautifully colorful state.  What the river has been for Siddhartha, the hiking trail has been for me.  There was an intersection between our two souls, and it was cosmic.

What I am most grateful for in Hesse's work is how much Siddhartha embraces his own path.  He embraces his path each step of the way, regardless of convention, of "coulda-shoulda-woulda's," of familial ties, or the comfortable luxury of wealth.  The conversation that we hear him having with himself over this is liberating, empowering.  Overall, it brings a sweet, blissful, resonant harmony to the eardrum of the soul.  Every leg of his journey has brought him closer to his own empowerment, his own awakening.  Comparisons do not stand.

What tickles me is one comment made throughout the book.  It is probably one of the main underlying premises of the piece.  It is the premise that enlightenment cannot be taught and wisdom cannot be imparted through instruction.  On the one hand you can see this premise in action by looking at Siddhartha himself; he found empowerment through living, not by following.  The other hand is, well, this book.  I believe a person could find enlightenment by dancing their eyes within these pages.  A debate could take place here.  But I feel too peaceful now upon reading this book to start one.

If there were any debate in me at all after reading this book, it might be from leftover fuel ignited from reading Well-Behaved Women Seldom Make History.  Well, I'll stop.  I take that back.  I'd never want to blame a book for my feelings.  However, there was a point in which the courtesan, Kamala, departs from her life with Siddhartha's son to find the Buddha.  She does not make it.  Here is the one woman seeking enlightenment, and she dies from a particular wound.  I think I will stop fussing here and recall my joy in reading Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love, and return to the water that was half-full in my soul upon reading this book...

Anyhow, another precious nugget in this book is the discussion of love after enlightenment.  Loving others after truly being able to see their natures, even if they are not enlightened themselves, is descriptively measured out with celestial aplomb.  Here is Mother Theresa.  Here is Thich Nhat Hanh.  Here is Gandhi.  Here is Jesus.  Here is Hafiz.  Here is the manifestation of spirit telling humans there is a source within us capable of rendering us harmless to any other, and fills us up so full.

Oh yeah, and enlightenment with a kiss?  Nice.

Lastly, I will end at the preface.  There is a commentary within these pages about how Hesse grew up within a missionary's family and he spent some time in India.  Somewhere also there is a point made that one remarkable thing about his work is that with it he's become a reverse missionary.  He brought to the West, the East.  He was the ferryman.  I love him for this.  I think he heard the river quite well.  I hope I can hear the wind as well as he can hear the water.  Om.