Gurus are relatively easy to find in India. So says Yogananda in his Autobiography of a Yogi. Yet rooted in midwest North America by family and career, I’d despaired of every finding a teacher open to mystic needs. A Buddhist saying says, when you’re ready for your guru, he will come to you. And for all practical purposes that’s how Rob came to me.
For two and a half years I was at a standstill. In my meditation, writing, music, art, retreats and workshops—activities I’d promised myself for years I would undertake full-time as soon as I retired. Now I was. Three decades and a full library devoted to Western Hermeticism provided a satisfactory home base for my world view. Psychology, earned at the spousal side of a clinical psychologist, had given me an owner’s manual for the psyche. What was missing was the gnostic experience: first-hand experiential knowledge of the Ineffable.
Ten years ago I met Chris, an American Tibetan Buddhist and personal guide who offers retreats and counseling to show crazy-busy people how to relax in body, mind and spirit. On that particular morning-long two years ago, after a free association session with her, I walked out into the daylight and found myself gazing into gold- and rose-colored world, a world of a gentle hue yet unearthly intensity. The indescribable blessing, the specific sense of Presence, stayed with me for three days. I went home, researched and painted the Catholic image of the Sacred Heart for a week. Then the world settled back to Dull-and-Normal, as anticipated. But this time I noticed an edge, an antsy impatient longing at the back of my heart that told me something inside had opened. And I had no idea what to do with it. I floundered, experimented, and stayed stuck.
Two years later, a casual word from a friend, an arranged meeting, and there was my new teacher. It was G. I. Gurdjieff, disguised as a chef de cuisine at a local high-end restaurant. With Rob’s instruction (strict), guidance (clear) and new language (at times confounding), I would come to find in “the Work” the third leg of a stool which finally began to lift the everyday mental sluggishness to new states of self awareness and consciousness.
I now have five teachers, Chris, Rob, Gurdjieff, son Derek (who has always been able to talk “soul” with me), and Wyn, now from another dimension.
Seek, and ye shall find—eventually.