There was Tom, a dark-haired young
man who was as tall as Atmananda and who seemed easygoing.
There was Sal, a balding young man who seemed intense. There were
other Chinmoy disciples milling around, but the Stony Brook group
stuck together.
I expected the conversation would be spiritual, seeing as how we
had just meditated with a fully enlightened guru. To my surprise,
Atmananda and Tom recalled an episode from The Twilight Zone.
"And he totally disappeared."
"Into the fifth dimension."
"Yeah, he really got zapped."
That night, when I got home, I wondered if Atmananda should have been
more meditative. But I recalled that Don Juan often acted absurd,
funny, and irreverent. He did so to balance the utter seriousness
of The Path, as well as to shake up Castaneda's pre-conceived
notions of what it meant to be a seeker. "Besides," I thought,
quoting Atmananda, "who says spirituality can't be fun?"
The following week, I wondered if Chinmoy would accept me as his disciple.
I asked my brother what my odds were.
"If you are drawn to Guru," he said, "the chances are you have studied
with him in past lives. But if he sees that he's not the right
teacher for you, he'll guide you inwardly to the right one.
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