But truthfully, that’s what anyone who remotely has anything to do with him calls him. Like Madonna picking up a haughty British accent, I too began assimilating. People have noticed my change in speech and like to tease me about it. In their next life, they will be reincarnated as a slug. To this, I am certain.
Being in the presence of His Holiness is a treat. Happiness permeates his being. His laugh starts deep in his belly and explodes from his lips, like a bald-headed Santa on Christmas Eve. He’s the type of guy you want to grab a beer with, which is ironic since he doesn’t drink alcohol. Enough caffeinated green tea might provide the same effect.
For a man who was kicked out of his country by the Chinese government, the spiritual guru is pretty darn peaceful, even when drinking his tea. Most Americans can’t fathom this tranquility. A person cut me off on the bridge coming over today. In response, I shook my fist, screamed some four-letter words and threatened to throat punch them.
After this session, calmness will have entered my soul. Thoughts must cross my mind like clouds floating across a clear blue sky. Deep breaths will … wait a second. Would someone please tell this moronic photographer to stop blocking my serene view of His Holiness before I perform a Sean Penn paparazzi karate kick on his credentialed rear?
OK, OK. One hour in and still I haven’t found enlightenment. Heck, I’ve barely found a bathroom. But if Carl Spackler got total consciousness in “Caddyshack,” surely a small spark of awareness will find its way to me through these teachings.
Just in case, I wonder if Richard Gere takes on any students?
— Amanda Beam is a Floyd County resident and Jeffersonville native. Contact her by email at firstname.lastname@example.org