 
Ignoble Truths

Ignoble

Truths

### by

### B. Gregory

## Ignoble /ig' nob el/ adj.;

  1. ## dishonorable, unworthy, base, shameful, contemptible, despicable, dastardly, vile, degenerate, shabby, sordid

  2. ## of humble origins.

Part

1
1

It began in a coffee shop, but then many a great event has occurred in coffee shops.

I wandered in to the local grind shop for my fancy cup of Joe and he was sitting at a corner table, gazing out a window. He had a black beret and John Lennon glasses on, a translucent color I could not identify.

He would not have caught my attention had he not been a coyote.

My thoughts exactly, a coyote? What was a coyote doing in a coffee shop? How did he pick up the cup without opposable thumbs? Where did he get money? Did he play a coyote on Broadway? I was puzzled. He sat near the window with his chin resting on his...paw, espresso steaming near his over sized ear. What seemed even more perplexing was the fact that nobody else seemed to care! He was generally ignored, except by the Barista who occasionally checked on him. I did not intend to stare but this seemed an extremely odd situation.

He browsed the interior as one would observe beasts in the wild when his eyes landed on me. I blushed at having been caught staring but I don't believe he noticed. His eyes caught mine and he smiled, at least I think he smiled. Do coyotes smile?

I know what you're thinking, "How do you know it was a coyote and not a wolf?" It's simple, coyotes are smaller. This fella; I assumed it was a he, was all of four feet high on his hind legs. He seemed to have a masculine air and I was later proven correct, but I digress.

Having caught my gaze, and smiled, he continued his appraisal of the coffee shop's occupants.

I ordered my medium sized Latte and awaited it's intoxicating benefits while I stood to the side. I continually found myself drawn to the phenomenon at the corner table. A couple times he caught me looking. It seemed he was looking at me as well. Well, this could not continue, so I grabbed my coffee and wandered his direction, pretending I was looking for a place to sit.

As I drew near this strange fellows table he looked me square in the eye and waved a paw at me. I simply smiled and quit pretending, walking up to his table and nodding.

"Please join me, will you?"

I smiled and said thank you, further puzzled that a coyote would be able to form words and speak English. I placed my messenger bag on the table with my coffee and pulled out a chair.

I was stumped. It was like sitting at a table with a man with no arms. How does one politely start a conversation without offending, _"nice straw you have there?"_ Fortunately, my new found friend sensed my discomfort and broke the ice.

"Thank you for joining me. I know this seems odd to you, encountering a coyote in a coffee shop. Rest assured, I am friendly and have all my shots."

I chuckled. "It is a bit strange. I mean, shouldn't you be out chasing rabbits or something? Sorry, that sounds a bit demeaning, doesn't it?"

"Not at all. Most of my relatives, that's exactly what they do; run around the dessert chasing those poor critters, laying under cactus and nibbling on Jimsonweed Weed. Worthless lot. I chose to go east, In defiance of Horatio Alger. Besides, the coffee is better."

He answered one of my questions by picking up his cup using both paws. His mannerisms were very polished and I was convinced, if he had found a way, he would be rolling his own cigarettes and playing the beatnik poet.

After a cursory scan of the shop he said, "So you are an author?"

I was taken back. "How did you know that?"

He laughed and smiled again. "No magic really. Most of the Bohemians around here are in the arts. You are not athletic enough to be a dancer and not polished enough to be an actor, no offense intended. That leaves writing, for your fingers are too clean for an artist. You carry a large messenger bag meaning writing material. You a not flashy enough for screenplays or depressed enough for playwright, that leaves author. Working on anything interesting at the moment?"

"Pretty dry currently, although I am pondering a story about meeting a coyote in a coffee shop."

He laughed out loud and nobody seemed to notice. Strange crowd.

"I am glad you can distinguish between a wolf and coyote. Most authors I have met suffer not from a lack of ideas but from a profusion of topics, making it difficult to nail one down. A rather tedious en devour I would assume?"

"I'm afraid you're correct. I have about five outlines and none seem to go anywhere. I'm good at ideas creation but lack in follow through."

"Ah yes. I remember an author saying once that the hardest part of writing was nailing one's butt to the chair and typing. Authors are such passionate people, I've found. They would rather be living life than writing about it. Hemingway once said, 'writing is simple; you simple pull yourself up to the typewriter and bleed.'"

The truth of that statement struck me. Most of my friends who were writers felt like boiling pots ready to explode, but the steam had to be released in an exact form, per the manual of writing, Chicago or AMA or whatever. It was enough to drive one mad.

"Are you writing to express yourself or make money?"

This caught me by surprise. "Good question. I would like to do both."

"Good luck. I hate to seem brash but most people won't give a rat's ass about what you have to say. Sorry."

"Then I am to do what?"

"Give them what they want."

"Which is?"

"AH, there's the rub, as Hamlet would say."

"Well, that's helpful."

"Who said this was going to be easy."

"Who said this was going to be a THIS?"

"You feel we met by accident?"

"I'm not sure why we met, or what a coyote is doing in a coffee shop."

At this point the Barista interrupted our joust, "Everything good, Ricco?"

"Very good, Carl. My compliments to the chef."

Carl chuckled and wandered away.

"Ricco?"

"Not my real name but they like it."

"What is your real name?"

Ricco sipped his espresso and smiled. "Have you ever known a coyote with a name?"

"Can't say I've ever known a coyote."

"Touche."

2

I next met Ricco at a different coffee shop. I had gone up the hill to a shop attached to a museum which I had never attended. It was a history museum where wax figures talk in funny voices while remaining totally immobile. The coffee shop, however, was beautiful with floor to ceiling windows looking out over the water. The sun shining in the windows made it difficult to see the computer screen so I had to wander about in search of a shadowed position. I reached the far corner under a corrugated metal sign and saw a lone coyote sitting in the corner.

It had been a week since I had seen Ricco and felt maybe I had just ate bad Chinese, but here he was, same beret, same glasses. He looked up and smiled, waved a the opposing seat, and returned to sipping his espresso. I sat in the opposing chair, plopping my messenger bag in the next chair.

"Didn't expect to see you here."

"I get that a lot."

I looked at the espresso. He saw me and said, "Yeah, I drink these like candy. A few more, I just might start chasing rabbits."

My Latte was ready and I put the required two packets of sugar in and stirred. Ricco hadn't changed, though he seemed more sedate this day.

"Having trouble sleeping," he said.

I looked at his coffee. "Yeah, probably."

After a few moments we had fallen into our ritual of sipping and examining the clientele. He finally says, "How is the writing?"

"I seem to be doing more reading than writing."

"You don't get paid to read."

"Tell me about it."

Ricco readjusted in his chair and I knew we were in for a marathon conversation. He just had that look about him. "You are obviously educated. What did you study in college?"

It always amazed me when people said that. What did I do or say that always gave away that I went to college? I don't wear a blazer with elbow patches or smoke a pipe, yet people always say, "I can see you're an educated man."

"I got a degree in philosophy."

On this note Ricco almost choked. "Sorry, think I got some in my nose with that one."

"What's wrong with philosophy?"

"Nothing is wrong with 'philosophy.' Question is, 'What's wrong with a philosophy _degree_?'"

"Well?"

"What did you learn in your philosophy courses?"

"You want fries with that?"

"Seriously? They say most psychology majors enter the field in hopes of curing themselves. Why does one enter the field of philosophy?"

"I never really thought about it. I just wanted to graduate one day and found most of the course work I had taken was philosophy. I guess the question is why I took so many philosophy courses?"

"Well?"

I had to ponder this a moment and Ricco saw the confusion in my eyes. Why did I? I had always been obsessed with how the universe was put together. I had been down the traditional religion route. I studied Christianity, Judaism, Islam and then turned east. I felt a certain kinship with Buddhism, Hinduism, Shinto. I studied Samurai, Mystics, Yogis and Messiahs. I had attempted to extract the best of all worlds and still found them lacking. I eventually concluded that most religions were just old superstitions. In philosophy, this got even more convoluted. Hume, Locke, Descartes, were near torture. 'Never say in one paragraph what could be said in fifty pages.' I was sure something sunk in over time but I was at a loss as to what it was. It all came back to 'You want fries with that?'

"I guess I have a compelling desire to learn how the Universe operates."

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. That sounds like a noble cause. It's not that noble. You studied philosophy because you were lost."

_Okay, getting a bit arrogant here, aren't we?_ I was willing to go along with coyote psychology for a while but he was stepping on toes now.

Realizing he had ventured a bit far, Ricco changed his tone. "I'm sorry....I just realized I don't even know your name!"

We both had to laugh at this point, discussing the universe and he didn't even know my name.

"Dave."

"Hi Dave, I'm Ricco."

"Yeah, I know."

We sipped a while letting the smoke fumes clear.

I cracked the ice. "So, I was lost, am I still?"

"You tell me."

"Should I be laying on a couch or something?"

"Would you be more comfortable?"

"Don't let up, do you?"

"Don't got time. Neither do you." He simply smiled on that one.

"Let's leave the topic of philosophy alone for the present and return to your writing." Ricco said. "I think it is reasonable to conclude you were inspired to learn, obsessed perhaps. Now you are an author. Now you are inspired to share. Coincidence?"

"That would not be a coincidence if I felt I had something to share."

"Perhaps you do. What are you reading right now?"

"Mostly the Dalai Lama."

"An excellent place to start."

3

Our next meeting was planned. We met at a Bistro by the bay. I had an Italian Soda while Ricco had his usual espresso.

"You know that stuff will kill ya." I said.

"You gotta go sometime. Where were we?"

"Before we jump into the fire, you never answered my question; why Ricco?"

"I dunno. Probably the beret. Carl just started calling me that and I responded. Better than Spot."

"Marginally."

"Yeah. I hail from the Tucson area in Arizona."

"Why you here?"

"Too damn hot down there! After a while it starts to wear you down. Besides, the radical Right was driving me crazy, not to mention the liberal gun laws."

"I can imagine."

"It's still legal to shoot us down there. Got tired of hiding behind cacti."

"So you migrated north?"

"Yup. Immigration laws aren't what they used to be, are they." He smiled and returned to his coffee.

"Dalai Lama visits Tucson a lot, you know." He said.

"Found a way back, didn't you? Are you telling me you've met the Dalai Lama?"

"There is a lot about the Dalai Lama you don't know."

We let the air sit between us a while. The skies had again grown cloudy and returned to their reputation. Ricco didn't seem to mind. He would have fit easily into the drizzly English countryside. When he got rained on, he just shook it off. He suddenly spoke:

"Now you never answered my question?"

"Which one was that?"

"What did your philosophy degree or training give you?"

I had actually been thinking about that question since the day he asked me. I had concluded that my training did not so much provide answers as gave me tools to ask the questions.

"It gave me a microscope."

Ricco smiled, "Very good." He looked out at a couple tourists walking along edge of the marina. "Most people will go blindly through their lives having never asked the questions you've asked. They will accept the answers given them. The Priests, Reverends, Imams, Rabbis and Yogis will claim authority and issue standardized formulas to the masses and collect their dues. Nice gig when you can get it. Every once in a while someone will challenge the existing beliefs and usually get shutdown, some more violently than others. I do believe, however, the time is right for more exploration. Most people in this country are what I call marginal Christians. They don't want to step into Atheism but don't really buy the whole Jesus thing anymore. I understand about 80-90 percent of Germany's citizens no longer claim any religious affiliation. Think I read that somewhere but I can't prove it." He smiled. "I think most Americans don't want to believe in a two thousand year old superstition but they are not willing to let go of spirituality all together. A peculiar predicament to be in. They don't want to throw the baby out with the bath water, but they are not sure where to find the baby."

This was the most I'd heard Ricco talk. I wondered if HE had a degree in philosophy.

"Given this some thought, have we?"

Without removing his gaze from the public, he sipped his coffee almost reflexively. "Coyotes are a unique species. They are one of the few predatory animals in the world whose population has increased in spite of Man's attempt to hunt them into extinction. It almost seems as though our fates are intertwined."

I had worked my way through about half my soda and my stomach was starting to growl. "I see this as a prelude to somewhere. You are saying there is a spiritual vacuum within American society?"

Ricco looked straight at me. "No, not a vacuum exactly. One has to ask what makes a person seek spirituality in the first place. What is it we are truly seeking?"

"We?"

Ricco laughed. "Just cause I'm a coyote does not mean I do not share in your journey, and yes, I have given this a great deal of thought. All the great mystics have retreated to mountains and deserts to seek answers. I was just lucky enough to be born there."

I felt I needed to contribute. "I used to work at a place where they insisted the solution to the problem was to keeps asking 'why.' The machine does not work, why? The belt is broken, why? It got old and frayed, why? Nobody was checking the belts, why? There was not maintenance program for checking the belts, why? Eventually you would get to the root of the problem. If I hear you correctly, we have to ask the same of humanity. We are not happy with our spirituality, why?

"Good microscope. That _is_ what I'm saying. Why do people pursue spirituality?"

This was a valid point. People do not dedicate themselves to something, sometimes even to death, without a strong motivation. Like the actors say, 'What is my motivation?' Perhaps that is what I was seeking with my study of philosophy. Perhaps I was trying to get behind why we pursue all these metaphysical pursuits, pursuits that have literally directed the course of history.

"Could people feel some type of kinship or affinity to a supernatural power or being?"

To this comment Ricco just went, "Puff!"

"That was edifying."

"Too simple. Your not digging. Use your microscope."

"Are you leading down the rabbit hole, pun intended."

"I sure hope so. It's simpler than you think. Most great truths are."

4

We chose to take a walk along the waterway. I had never walked with Ricco and it was, rather unique. He did walk on all fours, trotting beside me. People, however, treated him as another pedestrian, nodding their heads and smiling. There were no, 'what a cute dog, what's his name?' we paused by a railing and he lifted his two front paws onto the railing.

"If I had a lumbar, I would walk on two legs."

We watched the water in the channel shift slowly upstream. The tide was coming in while halyards on the sailboats clanged against the masts. It was always peaceful being on the water. Some primal instinct within me always drew me to the ocean, our mother, our origin. It had a calming effect.

I looked at Ricco, lost in some distant thought. "So the answer to why we seek spirituality lies elsewhere?"

"Now you're fishing."

"Oops."

"Think about those people you have met who do not seem concerned about the spiritual world or after life or any of that nonsense."

"You mean people who are just plain happy?"

He turned to me and smiled. Okay, I was to figure this one out. Happy. What's going on there. I had always assumed the truly happy people were those who had already figured all this stuff out. What if they hadn't? Were they happy just abandoning the search? Why search in the first place? What were we really searching for? I knew from my experience in Eastern religion that the pursuit of peace and contentment was a pivotal factor in their journey. I have met a handful of people in my life that I would define as perfectly happy and content; some were in a religion and some were not. They did not seem to have any secret key or magic that provided their happiness, they just were. How very strange.

"To imply that people seek spirituality for the purpose of finding happiness opens a whole new can of worms."

"Indeed it does, but what better for fishing than a can of worms."

"I have noted that in Western circles, those who pursue happiness are seeking _something,_ where as those in the Eastern religions seem to pursue a type of _nothingness."_

"You're getting warm, but before we go there, let's simplify the whole spirituality thing. Why did you study religion before philosophy?"

"I felt restless inside. I wanted to know what my purpose in life was, where I was going. Nothing made sense to me. I wanted to be peaceful and content like Kwai Chang Cane in Kung Fu."

That pulled a laugh from Ricco that brought tears to his eyes. "Yes, grasshopper, I understand."

He pushed off the rail and started walking again. "I do believe the hippy generation sought the same. They were the children of an affluent society. They had the TVs and cars and food on the table and still felt incomplete. Your parents grew up in the Depression and World War II. They knew what it was like to do without and suffer. Your generation did not have to suffer yet suffered anyway. I'm sure some found the 'Kung Fu' way, but I believe most missed the boat. Even the Beatles's Yogi didn't change the world."

"Was he wrong?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Maybe he was spiritual, and peaceful and content, but just didn't know how to explain it, or maybe people just weren't listening. Who knows. I think once we conclude our discussions you may look at the Yogis a little differently."

"Conclusion of our discussions?"

"Yeah. You don't think I'm letting you go yet, do you? We still have a lot of rabbit holes to explore."

5

"So you're saying people who pursue spirituality are in essence pursuing happiness?"

Ricco had come in from the rain and was nice enough to shake the rain off under patio before entering the coffee shop. He was now licking his paws respectively to get the last remnant of water from his coat. "Don't waste time, do you? Can I get a cup of coffee first?"

"Sorry." I had been mulling over our previous conversation and the conclusion seems a bit simplistic to me. After all, people had endured horrible hardships in the name of religion when a simple statement or confession would have alleviated a lot of suffering.

Ricco settled into the booth I had grabbed when I arrived earlier. "It's not quite that simple. Let me refer to Maslow. Sound familiar?"

"Yeah, the Hierarchy of Needs."

"Exactly. Remember when we were discussing your generation verses your parents. They went without food, clothing and shelter, so that was their priority. They did well and built a middle-class society unlike any in the history of Man. Sexist term intended, for it was a patriarchal society. Your generation, not having to worry about that rung on the ladder, pursued the next step. Their food, clothing and shelter was covered and they were loved by their family but felt a certain vacuum in their lives. They pursued self-actualization. Their parents said they could find it in God but they were having difficulty finding God, and He wasn't talking!"

We had gone full circle to the original coffee shop where I first saw Ricco. Carl brought his usual without having requested it. He let his eyes slowly close as the first sips of espresso slithered down his throat. As his moment of ecstasy passed, he looked over at me.

"Where was I? Oh, Maslow. That's right. So here we have an entire generation that _should_ be perfectly happy, after all, they had everything. Ever read about the trustee babies and rich rock stars that commit suicide? What's missing? Well, getting back to spirituality. That generation gave way to the material generation which gave way to the X generation and Y generation and etc, etc, etc. The secret to life having gone unfounded."

"So there is no solution?"

"I didn't say that."

"What are you saying?"

"Perhaps they were looking in the wrong direction, or at least some of them. You've seen the others."

"Huh?"

"Let's go for a walk."

The rain had let up and we skirted puddles about the streets and sidewalks. Coming to an alley, Ricco turned down it and stopped at an iron door set back in the brick work. He sat, as dogs sit, finding a dry spot. "Here is your first rabbit hole."

I looked at him and looked at the door. "I go in there?"

"Yup!"

"Who lives here?"

He scowled at me. "What difference does it make! It's a rabbit hole!"

I was a bit timid but figured, worst case scenario, I end up in the back of a Chinese kitchen.

"Okay." I walked up the two steps and grabbed a rusty old handle and pulled. The door opened easily and it was dark inside. I trusted Ricco, though I didn't know why, and just held my breath and walked in.

The air was dry and hot. The sky was clear blue and the hills around me rolled for miles in a dull brown seen throughout the desert. I immediately knew where I was and what I was doing by the weight I felt on my back, with the straps digging into my shoulders and belt around my waist. I was back on the Pacific Crest Trail, which I had done a few years prior.

I was in what was called the desert section in southern California and had just rounded a bend in the trail. It was hot and I had my bandanna draped under my hat and over my neck to protect it from the sun. I feet were sore, my legs were sore, my back was sore, hell, my whole body was sore. I'd gone about two weeks and I stunk to high heaven, as all PCTers do. I immediately knew why I was there.

It was a catharsis.

At this point in my life, I had lost everything. I had lost my job; my marriage crumbled under the weight, and I was starting over at a time when my life should have been coming to a closure. In a final act of...what was it an act of? Defiance? I decided to hike the PCT. Why not? What did I have to lose? This act had brought me to this point.

Over the previous two weeks, alone on the trail, one is forced to be alone with one's self in a way unlike anything else. Day and night, you have only the self to stare at. I had shed my possessions but still had a some stuff in storage back in the "real world." For now, my whole life was on my back. What was significant about the trail, at this particular bend, was a realization that came to me.

As I looked back on the trail, I realized there was nothing to go back to. I had no home. There was no nest of friends I could run down to the local bar and hang out with. There was no family, or wife, or girlfriend to return to. I looked ahead at the trail. There was no future. I knew I would get a job somewhere, doing something but there was no course laid out.

There was nothing.

There was nothing but the pack on my back and the ground beneath my feet. That was all. Such a stark realization. Everything in my life had led to this point in time. I was alone with the earth and the sky. To be so empty. Was it good? Was it bad? I could not decide. The revelation overwhelmed me.

I sat down on a rock and cried.

6

I was sitting on the steps before the door. It had begun to rain for which I was grateful. The rain hid my tears.

"Why did you make me go back through that?"

Ricco was sitting beside me. I felt he would have put his arm around me but it would have been difficult given his anatomical structure.

"This brought us to the first truth of this journey; suffering."

I pulled a bandanna from my pocket, which was just as wet as the rest of me, and wiped my face. Ricco began, "Suffering is the key to happiness. I know it sounds weird but before we can develop peace and contentment, true happiness, we must first understand the true nature of suffering. You'll understand why later. When you were on the trail, you discovered the true nature of suffering and didn't even realize it. You had lost everything. To put it succinctly, your life was in the shitter, yet, instinctively, you reduced you life even more, throwing you life on your back, and headed off across the country. Why do you think that was?"

"I dunno. I had nothing left. Seemed like a good idea."

"Was it?"

"Yeah. I met some of the most amazing people I've ever met."

"Yet, they were doing the same thing you were doing, right?"

"Yeah."

"Follow me here. The Buddhists talk about the Four Noble Truths. The first of these truths is, life is suffering. Buddha did not say that because he was a fatalist. He said it because he needed his followers to understand that before we can understand true happiness, we must understand the true nature of suffering. After we understand suffering, the nature of happiness is self evident."

"So we don't just shoot for being happy?"

"NO! That's the worse thing a person can do! It leads to a life of endless grabbing at material, emotional and spiritual items to fill this void which exists inside of us. We cannot fill the void until we understand where that void comes from."

"So, what happened back there, on the trail?"

"You encountered the true nature of your void."

Ricco moved on to get out of the rain. I told him I wanted to walk for a while. He said he understood and we parted ways. I thought back on my days on the PCT. They were filled with suffering. The days were endless with the weather always too hot, too cold, too dry, too wet, bugs, blisters, bruises, sores, sunburns, scrapes and endless walking, but it was also some of the best times in my life. The beer tasted better, the people were more real and friendly. Even the water tasted better. I would not say I was happier on the trail, it was a real drudge; but so many of the ordinary things we take for granted were precious, like a bar of soap. I was still a bit puzzled by Ricco's comment of the 'nature of suffering.' We suffered on the trail, but there were no shrinks or anti-depressants, (unless you include beer, of which there was always a shortage.) The suffering on the trail was a physical suffering. The suffering of society is a different suffering, a suffering of the soul. What was the difference? Perhaps this was what Ricco was trying to show me; there are different types of suffering. The physical suffering did not keep us from being happy but other types do. What type is he referring to? What _is_ the nature of suffering?

7

The sun broke through the clouds, but we didn't know for how long. Kicking back on a lounge chair, Ricco let the sun warm his belly.

"Thought you had enough of the sun in Arizona?"

"I said I had enough of the _heat_ in Arizona. I always enjoy the sun. Besides, it can't be over 75 degrees out here."

I considered taking my shirt off but was not sure if it was warm enough, and didn't want to open myself to comments about my translucent skin. I contented myself absorbing the heat through my clothing.

Ricco turned toward me. "Been thinking about our previous discussion at all?"

"Only every minute I'm awake."

"Don't get obsessive. It's not that complicated."

"You mentioned Buddha. I thought you were through with religion?"

"Did I say that? I have no _need_ for religion but we can still learn from it. The reason I mentioned Buddha was because he came up with some insights a few thousand years ago called the Four Noble Truths. Pretty cool stuff. Anyway, in days of old, if you came up with a novel philosophy, they didn't call you a great psychologist, they called you a great spiritual leader and made a religion out of ya. I am convinced that if Buddha was born today, he would write a self help book and go on tour."

"So these Four Noble Truths aren't about spirituality?"

"Depends what you call spirituality. No, that's not fair. Let me put it this way; it's a path to living a better life. They just added a bunch of metaphysical mumbo jumbo years later and created a religion. He might have taught that stuff but I only studied the Four Noble Truths and the Eight Fold Path."

"Which I am sure you are going to share with me."

He looked over and smiled. "Maybe. I kinda modified the wording a little and modernized his concepts."

"For example?"

"For example. The first Noble Truth is 'Life is Suffering.' I prefer to say 'Life Sucks.'"

"Eloquent."

"Isn't it? I call my version the Four _Ignoble_ Truths."

"I wouldn't submit it for a dissertation."

"Don't plan to."

"So, other than stating the obvious, how does realizing 'life sucks' lead to further enlightenment?"

"Simple. One must realize what the problem _is_ before one can solve it."

"I think most people realize that truth."

"Do they? Look around you. Our society teaches us we WILL be happy, if we just buy the right shampoo, get the right hairstyle, drive the right car, get the right job, marry the right person, get the right retirement, or win the lottery. If we just get the right material items, relationships, or pray to the right god, all will be good. It never seems to work that way, does it?"

"No, it doesn't."

"Recent studies have shown how the rickshaw driver in India is happier on the happiness scale than the multimillionaire living in Beverly Hills. Why is this?"

"Money doesn't buy happiness?"

"Simple way of looking at it, but yes. Every year, new technologies come out that we 'just have to have!' We run and buy them and a week later, we could care less. We still spend millions of dollars every year to pay some shrink to tell us why we are so unhappy. It's crazy!"

"So, we've established that life sucks. Now what?"

"Now we move onto Ignoble Truth number two!"

8

Ricco had changed our venue for our next meeting. We met at a coffee shop near the college campus. It was near lunch and the place was packed. Ricco had miraculously managed to secure the corner table and awaited my arrival.

"Hello, my friend. How goes your day?" He said.

I plopped my messenger bag is a nearby chair sat opposite him. He motioned for me to turn my chair slightly so as to see the crowd. "I trust there is a point to this new location?"

He smiled and leaned back. "Ah, grasshopper, you have discovered my motive at last. When you can snatch the espresso cup from my hand, it will be time for you to go."

"Without opposable thumbs, that should not be difficult."

Ricco smiled at the jest and focused on a young man at the doorway in a panic. He lifted his nose, indicating I should watch. The young man ran from table to table with shear terror on his face. Suddenly, he relaxed and picked up a cell phone he had obviously forgotten. With the world set right again, he turned to leave.

"I have one simple question."

"Ricco, your questions are never simple."

"A question, none the less."

"Shoot."

Judging from the grimace on his face, a bad choice of word. "Did that young man own the phone, or did the phone own the young man?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"The man owned the phone."

"You sure about that?"

Now I was puzzled. I pondered a bit and smiled. "The phone owned the man."

"Very good. The phone was not distressed that it had been left behind. The phone could care less. The phone pulled the man back into the shop, not the other way around. What does that tell you?"

"Don't forget your cell phone?"

"Really?"

"Just kidding. You're saying the objects control us, not the other way around."

"Good. What has that got to do with suffering?"

"I haven't a clue." I said.

Ricco didn't jump at the bait and sat a while.

I finally asked, "So why this coffee shop?"

"Finally, a good question. I love to study young people. They are so passionate that you can truly get a pulse of the society from the young people. They are the first to try different lifestyles, political parties, protests. Before the Bolshevik Revolution, it was the young people marching in the streets. If you want to see what is wrong, or right, about a society, study the young people."

Some of the college kids were working on cell phones or laptops. Some were engaged in conversation. A few were holding hands and cuddling in chairs shoved together. There did not seem much unhappiness.

"I don't see a lot of suffering going on here."

"You don't see it, but it's there." Ricco replied.

After a while, he leaned over the table. "Noble Truth number two; suffering is due to attachments."

"And your version?"

Once again smiling, "Ignoble Truth number two; Life sucks cause you want stuff."

"You have a way with the words."

"Lingo of the times."

Attachment is the cause of all suffering. That was a heavy mental bite to chew on. I thought about the guy with the cell phone. What if he had not found the phone? His whole day would have been ruined. The lost numbers, contacts, pictures. I knew only too well how that could ruin your day.

If he did not have the cell phone in the first place, there would be nothing to stress over. Is Buddha saying get rid of everything?

"So, we sell everything and join a monastery?"

"Not a bad idea, but no. The problem is not the object you own, it is your attachment to the object."

"So I can own stuff, just don't be attached to it."

"Precisely."

"That's kind of hard to wrap my mind around."

"It is, and we'll discuss the relationship more in truth number three, for now, let's explore the root cause of suffering."

"Sounds good to me."

"Let's take a walk."

"Your not going to make we walk through any doors, are you?"

"I might." He chuckled.

9

We were wandering through a park. The sun was out and a warm, gentle breeze played with the leaves and ladies skirts. A very pleasant day. Ricco stopped suddenly and looked at a young couple passionately necking under a tree. I immediately grasped his allusion. Evidently attachment did not limit itself to just material objects.

"Attachments to others." I whispered.

By now the couple had seen us watching and gave me a dirty look.

"Why aren't they giving you the evil eye?"

"I'm cute."

"A likely story."

"But you got the meaning. Attachment is not limited to cars and cell phones. Relationships are attachments. There are material, emotional and spiritual attachments."

"Spiritual?"

"Of course. Ever known an alcoholic or drug user who traded their addiction in for Jesus?"

"Yeah, I've known a few."

"It's an extreme example but an example none the less. People have different motives for joining religions. Some are banking credits in heaven for the afterlife. Some are hoping for an emotional attachment to a metaphysical being. Ever heard some of these Christian songs? Some are so romantic I am almost embarrassed to listen to them!"

"So our suffering is created by attachments to material things, emotional relationships and dedication to supernatural beings. You don't leave much behind, do you?"

He had sat down and started digging at his right paw with his teeth. Something was caught in between his toes. He dropped his foot for a moment. "Don't get me wrong. I am not suggesting we all run off and join a monastery. Besides, who would make the espresso in the morning?" He lifted his right paw. "Can you see if there is something in there?"

"My pleasure." Between his second and third digit I pulled a small piece of gravel out.

"Thank you." He stayed seated for a while. "We are not making recommendations at this point, just trying to see where suffering comes from.

"Life would seem a bit dismal without material things, relationships or beliefs."

"Would it? Have you ever tried it?"

I thought back. "Yeah, on the trail."

"Was it miserable?"

"In some ways it was, in others it was not."

"It was physically, because it was strenuous, how about materially, emotionally and spiritually?"

"I can't say I missed any of that. In fact, it was rather freeing, having my life on my back."

"Something to think about."

He stood up and began trotting back toward town.

Yeah, it _would_ be something to think about.

10

The material occupation was easy to see. One merely had to look around. Everywhere one looked was filled with advertising for everything under the sun, and moon for that matter. Nothing was sacred from demon mad men. Even the operating system in my Android phone started its own advertising campaign, trying to sell me something, anything! It was easy to see how our society was trying to _sell_ happiness. If we just had the right material _things,_ life would be perfect. But were they convincing everybody?

The trend has lately been to downsize. Simple living, we call it. Perhaps the mad men are loosing ground, but what of the emotional? We have been raised with the 'happy ending' tales since we were children. Soon as the Prince finds the right Princess, happy ever after. Funny how it never works this way. TV and movies convince us we just have to meet the right person, that's all it takes. I know very few happy ever afters. Then there is the spiritual.

I've found humans can't take 'I don't know' for an answer. Any religion or belief that states, 'We don't know all the answers' is doomed to failure. We want to know. _Does_ an intelligence control the Universe? Do we have something, anything that survives death? Are we alone in this Universe? We simply cannot accept 'I don't know' as an answer and therefore cling, or attach, ourselves to answers and beliefs for which there is no scientific evidence whatsoever. Is this foolish? Is this merely another attachment that leads to suffering?

I began to look at all my relations, commitments, possessions, ties and obligations in a different light. Was this an attachment? Did it bring me pleasure, pain, boredom, suffering? I knew my possessions were unnecessary. I had started simplifying my life long ago, trying to reduce my possessions to a few small boxes. I found the more I gave away, the freer I felt. There was a certain lightness being non-materialistic. The relationships took some examination.

Could one be in a relationship without being attached? Did ALL attachments lead to suffering or just bad attachments? This would require some meditation. I did, however, notice how some people almost thrive on the negative aspects of relationships. I was forever listening to friends complain about their relative or significant other, to which I would say, "Get rid of them!" "Oh, I can't do that!" they would reply, to which I would say, "Why not?" I never did get a clear answer. I believe they had an addiction to the drama. This was clearly a case of attachment leading to suffering.

All this mess was rolling through my head when I next saw Ricco.

He was sitting on a park bench watching a man throw a ball for his two dogs, who would race across the lawn and fight over the ball, returning it to their owner. I sat next to Ricco who appeared fascinated with the whole process. I did notice that every time the man would throw the ball, Ricco would, ever so lightly, twitch.

"You're expecting me to yell 'SQUIRREL' and go racing off in the woods, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"I would not give you the satisfaction."

"Should I bring a tennis ball to our next meeting?" I said.

"Very funny."

We sat and watched the park activity for a while. I did not seem Ricco was anxious to get the conversation rolling. I asked him, "You appear to be well educated. Where did you study?"

"Rabbit U."

"Seriously."

He shifted a little on the bench, angling toward me. "U of A in Tucson."

"Minority scholarship?"

"Native American."

"Of course." I threw my arm over the seat back and made myself comfortable. I had a feeling we were in for another long diatribe. "So, you know I was a philosophy major and we shot off into spirituality, but you pretty much blew off the metaphysical, concluding that people were actually pursuing happiness, not a greater spiritual purpose. Am I correct?"

He smiled and slumped into the backrest. He was also getting ready for an extended conversation. "I said those who were happy did not seem overly concerned about the metaphysical."

The man with his dogs had moved on and we were pretty much alone. Ricco continued.

"People pursue spirituality for a variety of reasons. I believe most seek some form of peace and contentment in their lives. If one was truly at peace with one's self, would they be overly concerned about how the universe is composed or what happens to them after they die?"

"So you believe most people pursue religion to find happiness?"

"In this life or the next."

"Interesting. Then why are we only discussing suffering?"

I saw Ricco's nose twitch, as though catching a scent. "Let's walk." He jumped of the bench and started trotting.

"No doorways?"

"I can't promise anything."

We set out across the grass.

"What is darkness?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"What is dark, darkness? Is it an actual object or the absence of something?"

"It's the absence of light. Are you implying that happiness is the absence of suffering?"

"Not exactly, but you're getting warm. Watch that rock."

I started to look down and tripped, landing on all fours. What I landed on was not grass but a floor, a linoleum floor. As I looked around, the light had a different texture, as though it was alive, bouncing off of chrome, and white painted wood. I realized I was in a kitchen, a familiar kitchen. I was only a about a foot off the ground and found my movements sluggish. I felt something on my bottom and looked down. I WAS WEARING A DIAPER! I realized I was once again a small baby, crawling on all fours in the kitchen. The air was full of smells; bacon, eggs, sugar, coffee, and the light danced across all the shiny surfaces. There was a chair before me and I pulled myself up with my stubby hands and saw a curtain of fabric moving. Looking up I saw my mother at the stove. I wanted to get her attention and say "Hey, down here!" Somehow it came out "Oh, gagree, ooph." She turned around and bent down, smiling. My heart was full of joy and I giggled. She smiled more and patted the chair, saying, "chair, chair." I realize she wanted me to repeat the word. She was trying to teach me to speak but it came out, "ogph, kraw," and I giggled again. The world was so new and magical. Shapes and smells and colors were everywhere. How wonderful. I moved my hand and tumbled to the ground again. I rolled over to find myself staring at Ricco's muzzle.

"You're not going to lick me, are you?"

"I don't know you that well. Get up off the ground, we got things to do."

11

Sitting in the coffee shop, I explained my vision to Ricco. I sipped my Latte and confessed, "the world was beautiful, so full of colors and lights."

"It was new. You hadn't been corrupted yet."

"Isn't corrupted a rather harsh word?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Point is, we come into this world without any of the junk that is latter put upon us, without attachments. In the beginning, the world is a big, beautiful mystery. You can see it in the babies eyes. They are fascinated with everything."

"So, what happens?"

"A variety of things happen, but mostly its language."

"Now I'm totally confused."

"Here it is; we come into this world, a beautiful diamond, full of curiosity, admiration, awe. As we grow older, layer after layer of _crap_ gets placed over this diamond, which is us. The shining light gets buried under layers of attachments. Pretty soon, we forget we even had it. That is what your vision was, a reminder of how you once saw the world. Even then, your mother was adding a layer, trying to teach you the word 'chair.'"

I was starting to see where Ricco was heading with this. "So, what your saying is, after a lifetime of layers, we forget we even had this diamond inside us and we begin to look for happiness _out there,_ somewhere."

Ricco smiled. "Exactly! I knew that degree would come in handy for something. Since happiness is buried deep inside us to the point where we can't even remember it, we spend the rest of our lives trying to find happiness in the external world, through money, possessions, sex, love, power, or God. This is what Buddha realized. By the time he sat below that Bo tree, he had exhausted every external means of enlightenment he could find. At his moment of enlightenment, all the trappings of society fell away and he discovered that diamond inside. Wallah! Enlightenment!"

Ricco sipped his coffee a while before continuing. "Remember I said that if Buddha was born today, he would write a self help book and go on tour?"

I nodded.

"What are all those books about? People want to be happy. That's all. When I was down in Tucson, they did some brain studies on happiness. They found a part of the brain called the _anterior insula._ This part of the brain is very active in people who experience a strong sense of happiness and well-being. They would have people think good thoughts and bad thoughts and measure the activity of this area in the brain. Then they measured some Buddhist monks. Their anterior insula activity was off the charts. One has to ask _why_ are Buddhist monks so happy?"

I knew Ricco was challenging me here. What was he fishing for?

"Well, the obvious reason is their lack if attachments. Like our Catholic priests, they take a vow of celibacy and poverty. They have removed all their attachments."

"If that was the secret, your homeless people should be in a state of total ecstasy."

"Doesn't work that way, does it?"

"Nope, and I've seen some pretty unhappy priests."

"Yeah."

"Perhaps there is an attachment of another type that we are not seeing?"

I looked at Ricco with a puzzled look. "Not another doorway."

"No, I'm sure the last one was sufficient. But let's knock out Noble Truth number three before we progress any further; to end suffering, one must remove all attachments."

"That seems a rather natural segue. We haven't covered that one?"

"Perhaps."

"So, what is the Ignoble Truth?"

"I you don't want life to suck, quit wanting stuff!"

12

"We are not quite done with your vision yet."

Ricco was sitting on the park bench again. The weather had warmed up and we wanted to take every advantage while we could. We had stopped by the coffee shop and picked up to go cups on the way.

"Can't we just look at the sky and enjoy our coffee?" I asked.

"Yeah, right. With your mind, that will last about five minutes."

We sat for a while and I tired to enjoy the weather. Finally, I caved.

"Okay, what's wrong with my vision?"

"Oh, nothing is wrong with the vision, we're just not done exploring it yet. Let's take a walk."

"Let's just sit on the bench."

Ricco chuckled at trepidation. "As you wish." The arm on the park bench was wide enough for him to set his coffee cup and allow him to use his paws to pick it up. I was always astounded that he pour a bit of espresso in his thin snout without spilling. When I asked him how he did that, he simply said, "practice."

"We established that removing attachments to material items, relationships and metaphysical superstitions helped one to remove the layers of the onion. Peeling away the layers of junk society has thrust upon us allows us to get closer to that seed of happiness and contentment that is the birth right of every human being, and canine for that matter."

"It gets us close, but no cigar?"

Ricco nodded. "That is correct. The final key lies with those monks I told you about in Tucson. What is it that monks do that, say, priests or rabbis don't do."

I ponder this a moment, then the answer was so obvious, I slapped myself. "Meditate."

"Bingo."

"So what's so great about meditation?"

"Meditation is designed to remove the most diabolical attachment of human existence; the mind!"

"The mind is an attachment?"

"The worst kind."

"Now I'm confused."

"Can we walk now? There's no rocks, I promise."

Ricco finished his coffee and I tossed the cup.

"Those benches get awfully rough on the old haunches." He said.

"I can imagine."

We wandered a short ways until Ricco found a boulder that he jumped up on. He was now about eye level with me.

"We now go deeper into the rabbit hole; language."

I sat on the edge of the boulder. I knew we were in for a long one but my curiosity had the best of me. Ricco began.

"Remember in your vision how remarkable the world was, full of colors, smells, shapes, sounds? And your mother was there trying to teach you language. She was forming an attachment in your mind. As we grow, we see things in the world and society teaches us to categorize these items with a name. A chair is a chair. It may be a red chair or a blue chair but it is a chair. We take these words and form sentences. 'I like the blue chair.' Great for communicating with others, but something strange begins to happen. We form these sentences in our head. Pretty soon, we have all kinds of sentences running through our head. They become thoughts. Pretty soon these thoughts take on a life of their own. These thoughts become associated with feelings and songs and experiences. These thoughts occupy our days and our nights. Ever been unable to go to sleep because your brain won't shut down?"

I nodded.

"These thoughts begin to take charge. They convince us that they are the TRUE mind. They convince us that they are who we truly ARE. It's a lie."

I turn toward him. "My mind is a lie?"

"Yup. You studied Eastern religion. You studied meditation. What does meditation do?"

"It stops the thought process and stills the mind."

"Correct. When your mind stops, do you disappear or die?"

"No. Of course not."

"There you have it. The mind, as we know it, is a fabrication. It is something created out of language that has wrestled the reins of our life away from our true selves. But it doesn't stop there. It performs an additional trick on us. A trick called Time."

"Whoow. I need a drink."

"Marvelous idea! Let's go get a beer!"

13

"I once limped in here and the bartender asked me what was wrong. I said, 'they shot my paw!'"

Ricco laughed until tears rolled down his snout. I just kind of looked at him.

"Aw, come on. That was funny!"

"Maybe a little. Did he look at the horse you were with and say, 'why the long face?'"

Ricco didn't crack a smile but said, "I like that one. I'll use it."

We were in a dive country bar near the edge of town with a pitcher of American piss water beer between us. The neon signs were the only lighting and the place smelled of Budweiser. I looked at Ricco, "Somehow I don't see you spending a lot of time here."

"No, I don't, but it reminds me of Tucson. A little bit country, a little bit rock and roll."

"You miss Arizona?"

"I miss the desert, but I don't miss the heat. Rough on the paws. Once a year the local town had a 'Cook an egg on the sidewalk' contest. You could throw in a side of bacon as well."

"I can't imagine I would like that. I like all the western, cowboy stuff though."

"Yeah. That's still very much alive down there. You could be in Walmart and the guy ahead of you in line would be wearing a six-shooter."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. Only state I know where carrying a concealed weapon is legal!"

"Wow."

A grizzled old veteran wandered over to the juke box and dropped some coins in. Pretty soon Garth Brooks was wailing out a tune. As the old man returned to his bar stool, he nodded at Ricco.

"They know you here?"

"A little."

"You never cease to amaze me."

"Good. I would hate for you to lose interest."

I looked at Ricco, "Returning to our conversation, I can wrap my mind around the idea of thought taking over the mind. In Eastern circles they call that the Monkey Brain, chattering away."

"Exactly. Buddhist monks, and other practitioners, use meditation to silence the monkey brain. Carlos Casteneda called it Internal Dialogue."

"Did you know him too?"

"We were neighbors but I only knew him through his books."

"Oh, time. You lost me there."

"Time is an illusion. When our thoughts go wild, they think of things that may happen in the future, or they may dwell on things that have happened in the past. Any thought that you think of takes place in the future or the past."

"Wow. NOW we're going down the rabbit hole. There are no thoughts of the present?"

"No. By the time you have assembled a thought about the present, mind chatter that is, the time has past, has it not?"

"Okay, but how does this form attachments?"

"It IS an attachment. Thoughts keep us from experiencing the the present, the NOW. Remember Ram Dass, the big Sixties, early Seventies author?"

"Yeah."

"That is what his book, Be Here Now, was all about. Which is the next big secret. Put yourself in the present and all thoughts disappear. That is Meditation."

"I still don't see how thoughts are an attachment."

"Look at your thoughts a moment. If a thought runs through your head, it causes a feeling. If the thought is about the past, it could be a good feeling like joy or peace. Usually the thought brings up regret, remorse, anger, worry, fear. A thought about the future could bring up feelings of anxiety, worry, fear. Seeing a theme here? Thoughts pull us from the present, and usually with not so good results. That is why monks spend so much time in meditation. They stop the monkey brain and live in the present. A strange thing happens when this occurs, all those negative feelings disappear. Layers of the onion disappear. This little diamond, deep inside, begins to shine a little. Next thing you know, little spurts of happiness and contentment begin to dig their way out of the muck and garbage that society has buried you in. This is why the Buddhist monks score so high on the happiness scale. They've quit living in the past or the future and exist in the present, where they can be happy."

Our beer pitcher was halfway down and I was beginning to feel a little tipsy. I had to think about this. Thought formed a false mind, which draws us out of the present, creating anxiety, anger, fear, etc. This was another attachment that Buddha said we had to let go of. Heavy stuff. But somehow, it all rang true, like a little bell deep inside me saying, 'You knew this, you dummy!'

"It seems too simple." I said.

"It is simple, but it's very much like a game of chess. I can explain the rules in ten minutes, but it will take a lifetime to master. Knowing the truth is the easy part. Implementing the disciplines to LIVE the truth, that is the hard part.

"So by removing physical, emotional and spiritual attachments, and stilling the brain, I can be happy?"

"An over-simplification, but yeah. It worked for the Buddhist monks, at least the dedicated ones. Look at the Dalai Lama. He owns the clothes on his back, an umbrella and shaving kit, maybe a few items given to him by dignitaries, but he does not form attachments to these items. He meditates. He is perhaps one of the happiest people on the face of the earth. With this happiness comes peace, contentment and compassion."

"How does that work?"

"I'm not sure, but it does."

"You're also saying that to still the mind, or meditate, one merely places one's self in the present?"

"You place your mind in the present. I saw an interview with the Maharajah Yogi back in the seventies. He was on the Mike Douglas show. Mike asked him how often he meditates. The Yogi said, 'Very often, I am meditating right now!' What he was saying was that his mind was in the present as he sat there talking to Mike Douglas. He was meditating."

"So the trick is to live in the present."

"Yes. But easier said than done. We have spent a lifetime with thoughts racing through our heads. One cannot simply say, 'Okay, stop!' I wish it were that easy. Then we would not need Noble Truth number four.

"Which is?"

"Ah! That is where the rubber meets the road!"

14

The weather had returned to its usual, drizzly self. Most cities I had lived in, the saying was.'If you don't like the weather, just wait a few minutes. It will change.' This was the first city to which this little saying truly applied. Dodging in and out of cloud bursts, I busted through the door to the coffee shop to find Ricco in his usual spot.

"You live here?"

"Doghouse out back."

"Seriously?"

He looked at me with a 'You've got to be kidding me,' look.

"I actually share a flat with a dalmatian."

"Is she cute?"

"Boy, you ARE easy."

"Well, I hardly know anything about you, other than you're from Tucson."

"What else do you need to know?"

"Where do you live? What do you do for income? How do you handle a frying pan?"

"Cheap shot."

"Sorry."

"I live on the East side and I came into money."

"Why me?"

"Why you what?"

"Why did you single me out to teach this stuff to?"

"You singled me out."

"I just thought you looked....unique."

"Don't hang out with a lot of coyotes?"

"Well....no."

"I needed someone to write my story. You were an author, intelligent, and you buy me coffee."

"Fair enough."

"Shall we get started?"

Assuming my best British accent, "We shall."

Ricco just looked at me deadpan. "Don't quit the writing. So, where were we?"

"Ah, the synopsis! Well, We have Buddha sitting beneath a Bo tree, discovering that we are all born happy but have garbage thrust upon us, burying our native right to peace and contentment, and you were just about to give me the fourth and final truth."

"So I was." Ricco readjusted before beginning his next statement. This usually indicated I was in for a long one. "The first three truths describe the problem, but before one can solve a problem, one must have a clear understanding of what the problem is. Once one realizes happiness eludes us due to suffering, and once we understand the nature of suffering, we can work on the solution."

"So the fourth truth is the solution. I thought the third truth was the solution; get rid of attachments?"

"If it were only that simple. Once Buddha realized the nature of the problem, IE. suffering, he got up from the tree and went about finding ways to help his followers to achieve that."

"The fourth truth?"

"Yes."

"You going to keep me in suspense?"

"Maybe...The fourth truth is; The way to end suffering is to follow the Eight Fold Path."

I kicked back in my chair and stared at Ricco.

"What?" He asked.

I crossed my arms. "I thought we were coming to a conclusion in this matter and here you are opening another can of worms. Not just four truths but eight!"

"What, you thought this was going to easy? If it was easy, everybody would be enlightened. And they are not truths, they are paths to get to the truth."

"Eight, none the the less."

"Yup, eight."

"Do you have an Ignoble equivalent to the Fourth Noble Truth?"

"Nope. I'm not that creative."

Part

2
15

Ricco wanted to meet in the park again. It was a cloudy day but dry, with a mild breeze coming off the bay. The sea breeze was wonderful with the light taste of salt and fish in the air. The park sat on the bay and Ricco had his usual bench at the north end. I sat down and said hello. He was gracious as always.

"Getting some fresh air today?" I asked.

"Yes and no. As we move into this next phase of discussion, I need some actors."

"Actors?"

"Yeah. Come with me."

He bounced off the bench and began walking toward the city. "Like I said, the Eight Fold Path is where the rubber meets the road. After Buddha discovered the source of our unhappiness, he got up from under the tree and began working on ways to end our suffering. The Eight Fold Path is what he came up with. Reading the religious texts can be quite confusing but after looking into it for a while, I decided to rearrange the order of the eight paths to what I thought would work better."

"The Buddhist Temple isn't going to kick you out for messing with their texts, are they?"

Ricco paused and looked at me. "I've never been to a Buddhist Temple. How strange."

He began walking again. "And if they did, I wouldn't care."

We reached a bench outside the city courthouse and took a seat. "I have rearranged the eight paths into two sets of four; you see. I felt that four of the eight paths focused inward and four paths focused outward. There are, therefore the Four Inward Paths and the Four Outward Paths, a-la Ricco!" We will begin with the Four Inward Paths which are Right View, Right Intention, Right Effort and Right Mindfulness." We sat on the bench for a while as Ricco remained silent. I thought perhaps he wanted me to process what he said but it was just a bunch of words at this point.

Ricco began, "Lawyers are fascinating creatures. Look at how they hustle. That one over there." Ricco pointed his nose at a tall, handsome fellow grabbing his briefcase and locking his car. "He has just the right car, the right suit, the right briefcase, the right watch. They are very material creatures, and they look so unhappy. The young lawyers are anxiously struggling their way up the food chain while the old lawyers are trying desperately to hang on to the top of the hill. See any attachments, my young grasshopper?"

"Yeah, a ton."

"Materialism is pretty easy to spot. People worrying about their cars, their houses, their clothes, their hair, their complexion, their teeth. Amazing. If they lost it all, what would they do?"

"During the Depression, several just jumped out the window."

Ricco glanced over. "How horrid, to be _that_ attached to your wealth. Well, materialism is a well documented phenomenon. Fortunately, many are beginning to see the error of their ways and are working to simplify their lives."

"I've found the more stuff I give away, the lighter I feel." I said.

"Yes. You understand that concept well. Right View, the first of the eight paths, we've pretty much covered. In order for one to step onto the Eight Fold Path, one must truly understand the first three Noble Truths, so, we will practice. You see materialism and it's attachments. These people are connected in SO many ways. Just look at Black Friday, with everybody fighting over a big screen TV at Walmart. 'Happiness will come if I just buy the right thing!' But we've covered that. Let's move on."

He bounced off the bench at trotted back to the park. After a while we passed a playground. He paused for a moment and said "This is perfect." He found a bench and hopped on it.

Look at those mothers over there. One is ringing her hands in obvious distress, and the other is reading a book. What does this tell you about attachments?"

I glanced at the mothers for a while, trying not to be too obvious unless I be thought a predator. The nervous mother was about jumping out of her skin. The other mother blithely went about reading her novel. "The nervous mother is obviously over attached to the child. The other mother could care less."

"Sort of. The nervous mother is, indeed, very attached. She is _owning_ little Johnny's problems. Probably her first child. The problem is that she will endure the suffering for both of them, keeping Johnny out of harms way at every turn. She is cheating Johnny. Johnny must learn his own lessons and by cheating Johnny out of his suffering, his twisted ankles, scraped knees and being pushed by the bully, she keeps Johnny from learning valuable lessons in life. She is also bringing additional suffering onto herself. The other mother is not as attached, or obsessed might be a better word. This is probably not her first kid and she has learned to let go. If her Johnny fell, I'm sure she would be over there in a minute, but for now, she's let go to let little Johnny play, get hurt, learn about life."

"So you're saying the secret to removing suffering is not necessarily _removing_ relationships but just developing a healthy distance."

"Yes, sort of. You see, the Buddhist monks in Tibet did not crawl out from under rocks. They have families also and people they care about. If fact, they can be some of the most compassionate people I have ever met. They just have a healthy detachment from the world around themselves. We could learn a lot studying Buddhist monks. The next time you get a girlfriend, examine your relationship. Many people try to take responsibility for their partners happiness and well-being. We cannot do this. One's suffering is one's own. We must each find our way down the Eight Fold Path out of suffering and to own someone elses suffering is to cheat them from life's experiences. We can be there for them and help when asked, but they _must_ make their own way out of their suffering."

I thought about this for a while, realizing the number of times I was in a relationship and 'hanging on' too tight. I would come home and if my girlfriend was depressed or angry, I felt it was my fault and I had to fix it. What if I had loosened the ties a bit, let them experience their own suffering and just been there for them if they needed me? Would I still be in the relationship? How many people did I frighten away by holding on too tight, when I should have been working on my own problems.

Ricco jumped off the bench. "One more thing to show you."

He wandered down the road to the college campus and sat on a brick wall near an academic building.

"You see those people over near the book store?" There was a man and a woman dressed in their Sunday best, handing out religious tracts. I assumed they were Seventh Day Adventist but they could have been Baptist or any other Christian denomination.

"I'll address religion a bit more under Right Intention, but for now, see any attachments?"

"All kinds!"

"Yeah, kind of obvious, isn't it. They are hanging on to ancient dogma and religious zeal with a death grip. The tenants of their religion demand total attachment. Some follow the path to bank karma in the afterlife, thinking they will be rewarded for their loyalty. Others are convinced of the doctrine that the world will come to an end or if you don't believe this or that, you will burn in hell. I do believe compassion drives some, who honestly do not want to see you or I in eternal damnation, but what a waste. What if these dogmas are wrong? We have no evidence that these two thousand year old superstitions have any basis in reality. This can be one of the strongest attachments there are."

I looked at Ricco and he looked truly sad. What was he feeling for these people? Did he feel they were being led down the rosy path to nowhere?

He popped out of his trance and said, "Enough for now. As you can see, the web of attachments can be very complex and complicated, but hopefully you will be able it identify these connections and see how they can lead to suffering. Some attachments do not. I have seen old couples who have been married for thirty years just happy as a clam, but I wonder about their attachments. Have they found a way to let go and let each other be free to live and learn with their own space? An interesting question. The next time we meet, we will dive into Right Intention."

On that note, he trotted off.

16

"Right Intention!"

"Not wasting any time, are we?"

"We shall not."

We had met at the usual coffee shop, with Carl catering to our addiction. I had pondered our discussions of late and had begun looking quite differently at relations, connections and the web of our society. At times it seemed I could almost see the spider web like tendons of attachment extending out of people. Then there would be that one person, floating aloof of the traffic, as though unconsciously being aware of how to disconnect from the web. I would wonder, is this person familiar with Buddha's teaching or did they come to the same conclusions in a more circuitous route? Were there other theologies or philosophies which followed a similar path?

I also began to look inward, following my thoughts. I would occasionally attempt to stop my thought process just to see what happened. I did seem to notice little twinges of sensation that would pop up now and then. Often these twinges were feelings I had not felt in ages. A scent, a twinkle of light, a light sensation I had known once and forgotten. I also noticed a certain peace which would overtake me when I was able to still my mind for a while. I did not have any Eurekas or grandiose moments of enlightenment but, then again, I was rather new to this. I did not take notes while talking with Ricco but preferred, instead, to just jot notes down when I got home. I shared these experiences with Ricco. He would nod and give me that 'babe in the woods' look. I knew that moving from the Four Noble Truths to the Eight Fold Path would probably incorporate participation at a deeper level. Up til now, I just sat and listened.

"What is your purpose, Dave?"

"Huh?"

"What is your divine purpose, your path, you fate or destiny?"

"Never really thought about it. To write, maybe?"

"Maybe? That sounds committal."

"I never really thought about it."

"Good."

"Why is that?"

He smiled and waited, expecting me to answer my question. Then a light went on. "It's just another form of attachment, isn't it?"

"Is it?" He smiled.

I had to think about that one. Did commitment to a fate entail attachment? "I would say it does. That includes purpose?"

"Attachment."

"Fate?"

"Attachment."

"Destiny"

"Attachment."

"Divine Providence?"

"Attachment."

"Just about all idealism's or concepts."

"All of them. You see, they are all the inventions of Man."

"Wait a minute. All higher ideals like justice, beauty, fairness. These are all attachments?"

"Every last one of them."

"Pretty fatalistic attitude, isn't it?"

"Not in the least. Do you see justice or fairness in nature? Bambi wanders away from mommy and, WHAM, she's supper. Where is the fairness or justice in that? It is a concept created my Man, nothing more. By attaching to these 'higher ideals,' you merely bring more suffering upon yourself."

"Beauty?"

"Man made concept. You see a flower as beautiful. The cow sees it as food. You may see a blonde lady as beautiful. To someone from Mongolia or Africa, she may not be so attractive. It is totally subjective, and therefore not universal. It's a concept we have agreed upon by consensus, therefore, man made."

"So that is why you looked so sad at those bible tooters the other day."

"Exactly. Their attachment is perhaps one of the strongest and, therefore, misguided attachments on the planet. Attachment to these created ideals have lead to endless bloodshed and violence."

"What are they suppose to do?"

"Let go."

"That's it? Your higher wisdom is 'let go'?"

"It really is that simple."

"What replaces it? If we let go of all our ideals and higher principles, what have we left?"

"Nothing." He smiled.

"Lets take a walk."

17

We sat staring at the ocean. With the waves brushing gently against the rocks below the seawall, the sound was hypnotizing. Ricco was sipping the usual espresso and I had switched to tea, just for a change.

"Right Intention" I said.

"Diving right in?

"Something like that. Last time we met you talked of leaving higher principles behind, saying they were just another form of attachment. What do the Buddhists believe?

"Nirvana." He said.

"Isn't that a something? An attachment?"

"No, because Nirvana is a nothing."

"Open up rabbit hole, here we come!"

Ricco laughed. "Very good. As we remove these attachments, we do create a type of vacuum, an absence of... things. We create a nothingness. We in the West believe nothingness to be a bad thing. Not so in the East. This absence of anything opens us up to endless possibility. Look at the ocean."

We paused and stared at the water for a while. "Draws you in, doesn't it?

I nodded.

Ricco continued. "The ocean is magnificent, just as the universe is magnificent. If you took one drop of water and threw it in the ocean, it would disappear, vanish, but it would become part of something so much greater! We Westerners hate the idea of vanishing into nothingness because we would lose our individuality. The loss if the self is perhaps the scariest thought we can have. This is why Atheism is so unpopular here because the idea of dying, and there being nothing left, is absolutely terrifying. We simply HAVE to exist after death. Not so in Eastern circles.

Ricco shifted around to look directly at me. "In Eastern thought, becoming part of the great void is not terrifying. To go on to something greater, even if it means losing individuality, is not a bad thing. With the great void, or Universe, lies eternal peace. You see, the individual we fear to lose is the creation of the Mind. The Mind, the one created by our language, is the one afraid to die."

This required some serious thinking. If what Ricco said is true, I effectively kill the Mind every time I meditate. By killing the Mind, I lose the fear of losing my individuality. I'm not sure I can wrap my mind, or Mind, around that concept.

"When I meditate, I kill the Mind."

Ricco laughed out loud, jumped from the bench and did a couple circles, laughing the whole time. Once he had exhausted himself, he fell on the grass near where we were sitting.

"Oh my God. I have you totally confused you, haven't I?"

"Well.....I...yeah."

"You're on the right track. The monkey brain we discussed _does_ become it's own identity. It also creates a sense of separation. I never thought about it that way you described, killing the Mind, but yes; if we still the mind, it would remove the sense of separation we feel that is caused by the monkey brain." He sat up in a sitting position. "Throughout history, numerous religions have had adepts who reported mystical experiences. This experience often entailed losing ones self in the great Universe, or God. Meister Eckhart and St. Teresa of Avila were two mystics in the Catholic Church. The Muslims have Sufi's, the Jews have Kabbalists, the Buddhist's have Zen. This mystic experience almost always occurred during meditation; the Mind goes still, or gets out of the way, and, BANG, you're one with God; you are a drop of water fallen in the ocean. I would not normally refer to it as 'killing' the mind, but whatever works for you." He started laughing again. "You see, this void the mystics found is the Nirvana, the nothingness to which Buddhist's refer."

"How does this tie into Right Intention?"

"I'm not sure it does but before we go forward, I wanted to cover all the bases. Have we covered all different forms of attachment now?"

"I would think so."

"This is partly why I choose _you_ to talk to. With your philosophy training, I felt confident you would understand these concepts, and hopefully translate them in a form that would help others."

"Partly, what was the other reason."

"You buy me coffee."

18

"So, Right Effort. This is where I start working." I said.

Ricco was licking his right paw, his version of washing his hands I guessed. He didn't find it unusual but I found it a bit odd. At least he did it discretely."

"Right Intention means you intend to do something but the proof is in the pudding. We all have the best _intentions._ We don't always act on them. In Right Effort, one must examine one's own attachments and work on removing them, remembering what we just talked about. Removing an attachment does not entail selling everything you own and getting a divorce. It means _examining_ your relationship to EVERYTHING in your life. This includes all material items, relationships, job connections, friends, political affiliations, clubs, hobbies, everything."

I sat back and pondered the last statement. "Everything?"

"Everything. Let me give you an example. The average Joe is driving to work. He's tired, wants coffee and he's late. Suddenly the traffic in front of him comes to a complete stop. He goes ballistic, honking his horn, slamming the steering wheel with his fists. He's about to have a stroke."

"He's got an attachment to his job, an 'unhealthy' attachment."

"Yes. WWDD? What would the Dalai Lama do? What is the worse that is going to happen? He may be a little late. The world will continue to spin. Now compare that to another person who has let go of that attachment. The traffic stops so he looks for a station on the radio, finding a song he likes and sings along. He then arrives at work relaxed. His boss says he's late. He apologizes and goes to work, being far more productive than his buddy who arrives ragged and angry at the world. This guy has seen an attachment to his job and decided to severe that attachment. He still has the job and still goes to work, but he let the attachment go. When something is going wrong, a favorite trick of mine is to ask myself, 'what will it matter in one hundred years, two hundred years, a thousand?' Carlos Casteneda says everything we do is folly, but it's controlled folly; even though we know its folly, we must _act_ like its not folly. If the boss says this report is a matter of life or death, you can answer with a straight face, 'yes sir it is,' even though you know in your heart its pure folly."

"Kind of deceitful, isn't it?"

"No, not really. You are treating the work _as though_ it is important, you have just severed your attachment to it. 'Let it go' is the current idiom, I believe."

"Yeah, but your concept of 'let it go' takes the idiom to a whole new level."

"It is the path of Buddha. It requires some work but it is well worth it."

We drank in silence for a while, checking out the people floating in and out of the shop. Since my discussions with Ricco, I had begun seeing connections everywhere; peoples connections to their briefcases, computers, watches, other people they were with, other people they were not with. Some were happy, most were stressed. I had been practicing what we were talking about by examining the connections in my life. The material attachments were pretty simple since I had gone 'simple lifestyle' some time ago. The other attachments were another story. I was between girlfriends so that one was easy, but my friends were another matter. I looked at how attached I was to their lives, their problems and their well-being. By releasing my 'attachment' to their lives, I felt I was a bit more distant from their world and felt a burden lifted off my shoulders. Their suffering was their life's lessons, not mine. I was there if they needed a shoulder to cry on but I no longer tried to solve their problems for them. It was their lesson, not mine. A few friends were upset and felt I didn't care anymore, but I found these people to be overly dependent on everyone else and not handling things. Ironically, these were the same people who seemed to blame everybody else for whatever happened to them. Strange correlation. Other friends felt better because all they had really wanted was someone to listen. Rather than attempting to solve their problems and getting angry when they didn't take my advice, I just listened and they seemed to work it out for themselves. (Ironically, they always thought I helped them work it out.)

"Deep in thought, are we?" Ricco asked.

I was snapped out of my trance. "I have been working on the attachments part. Being a philosopher, however, the higher principles part seems the most difficult. Am I to throw out all metaphysical, cosmological and ethical concepts and just live with a vacuum?"

"Believe in what you can see."

"Huh?"

"If you can see it, believe in it." He just sat back and smiled. After a moments pause, he continued. "Can you see justice?"

"No."

"Can you see fairness?"

"No. I can see the effects of fairness."

"What you see are peoples actions. You can't see 'fairness.' Can you see Apollo, or Isis?"

"No, of course not."

"Can you see God?"

"No." I replied with hesitation.

"I'm not saying there is not a God, or cosmic entity, or consciousness. What I'm saying is we can't see it, so why form an attachments to something you can't see or prove exists?"

"So, even though these concepts are not physical things, we still form attachments to them?"

Ricco's eyes brightened and he sat up straight, "Oh my God, Yes! Some of the most powerful attachments in the world! How many people in the world have been tortured or killed for justice, liberty, the common good, manifest destiny, divine right, freedom, prosperity, God...shall I go on?"

"No, I get it."

"These are perhaps the most dangerous attachments of them all."

"Then what do we believe?"

"Who says we have to believe anything?"

"A total absence of belief?"

"A total absence of _attachments_!"

19

"Shall we review? Ricco whispered.

We had returned to the boulder at the bay where we could watch the ocean. The breeze had picked up and activity seemed to be stimulated by the weather. The gulls were active, waves lapped at the shore and energy seemed to follow the wind. Ricco was sitting on his boulder with his nose in the air, sniffing. "They say the area of nerve receptors for smelling with a human is roughly the area of a postage stamp. With a canine, the area is roughly the size of a sheet of notebook paper. You guys don't know what you're missing." He sniffed the air again. "The first three items on the Eight Fold Path may seem a bit redundant. This is probably due to translation and time. To put it simply, Right View is looking back and seeing the truth of the Four Noble Truths. Right Intention is looking forward with the intent to act upon the truths. Right Effort is actually stepping forward and doing something about it. The last four of the Eight Fold Paths helps with that. With Right Mindfulness, however, we step back into the rabbit hole."

Ricco was quiet while he stared at a seagull standing on the beach. The gull was roughing its feathers and facing into the wind. "Considering what we've discussed about happiness, do you think that gull is happy?"

The question caught me by surprise. Was the gull happy? A few months ago I would have thought differently, after all, what does the gull have to live for? The gull does not have a big screen TV or a pension plan. The gull eats raw fish and hangs out on the beach all day. Maybe not such a bad thing, but what else was there? I realized now that we have totally externalized our concept of happiness. Our human happiness lies in all those things we can own, relationships we cling to or lofty ideas that give our life purpose. The gull has none of these. The gull was the epitome of no attachments. In the Buddhist sense, the gull should be ecstatic. Was it? Did animals, being absent of all the attachments and garbage we humans place upon ourselves, live a life of contented bliss, or did they simply live to eat and fornicate? (Not a bad way to go.)

I turned to Ricco, "If happiness is an innate gift to which we are all entitled, a birth right, then I have no reason to believe that all living creatures do not have the same birth right. The seagull is the epitome of non-attachment. I would say the seagull is living a pretty content life, in spite of what Richard Bach said about them."

Ricco laughed. "I see you have given this topic some thought." He jumped from the boulder and began walking; my queue to follow. He continued, "Right Mindfulness steps into a deeper understanding of the mind. Mindfulness is to keep one's mind in the present, to be alert to one's environment. By stilling the thought process, the 'monkey brain,' one gains a keen awareness of one's surroundings. During this process, you might notice certain feelings or sensations. When the thought process is not going wild and generating a myriad of feelings _related_ to the thoughts, the body is free to experience other sensations. You will find feelings, smells, tactile sensations, even visions, occurring spontaneously. This can surprise people at first, but soon, we learn to trust our body and we find these sensations to be rather pleasant. The diamond is shining through. Of course, having the body in a position to accept these feelings is where the other four paths come in. You can own a sports car but it is not going to run like a sports car unless you take care of the engine."

I noticed Ricco steering toward the coffee shop. Attachment?

"So there is more to this path than just stopping my thought process?" I asked.

"Oh, so much more, but everything ties back to the first three Noble Truths. As you will see."

Ricco entered the coffee shop and hopped up to his favorite table. "Now," He continued, "time for my favorite attachment."

He smiled at me.

20

"The Outward Path," Ricco smiled.

We once again sat at the usual coffee shop with Carl catering to our needs. I hadn't seen Ricco for a while; partly to take a break and digest, organize notes, and to visit family back east. I was back now and ready to continue our discussions. We had sipped coffee for a while, catching up. Ricco had gone down south and visited friends. He said he took a bus. He did not like to fly. Must be a coyote thing. The day was gray and summer seemed to be over. Time to pull out the long sleeve shirts and sweaters. Something Ricco didn't have to worry about. I wondered if he had a summer beret and winter beret? I was going to ask when he blurted out the above.

"Should I take notes?" I asked.

"You never have before. I don't think you'll need to. You are not just listening but are incorporating... ironic I should use that term." He smiled to himself.

"Say again?"

"We are going to address corporations, 'incorporate?' Never mind." He shuffled around in his chair to look directly at me. "Do no harm."

I paused for a moment and said, "Okay, if you say so." He started laughing.

"Let's start from the beginning; the Eight Fold Path. The first four, the Inward Path, we've pretty much beat to death. In the second four, the Outward Path, we turn our perspective toward the outside world; an area of particular concern to me these days."

"And why is that." I asked.

Ricco got a serious look on his face that I had not seen since we sat in front of the college, looking at the Christian proselytizers. I saw compassion and pain; like a mother looking at her son as he falls off his bicycle. It was something close to his heart.

"The world is in a bad state right now." He began. "Poverty is ever increasing while our resources continue to dwindle, either through misappropriation, destruction or pollution. The situation is bad; and most people see this situation as too vast, too overwhelming to do anything about. 'What can I do?' we say and throw our hands in the air. In the Inward Path we had to understand the problem before we could do anything about it. The same is true for the Outward Path. We must understand the source of the problem before we can act. Perhaps what Buddha came up with almost 2500 years ago may be our best chance. The Outward Path is how we interact with the world, and it must be a cure, not a problem. But let's examine the situation as it is."

Ricco ordered another espresso and I knew it was another marathon conversation coming.

"The problem is money." He quipped.

"You ordered another espresso for that?"

"I should explain. Let's go back a couple thousand years. Any period will do. We used to hunt and grow our own food and would barter for other things. If you grew corn and I grew cucumbers, I would trade some cucumbers for some corn. If you didn't need cucumbers, I was in a pickle...sort of speak." Ricco grimaced at the pun. "So money became a convenient way for me to get the corn and you had something you could use to get what it was you really needed. Over time, greed found it's way into the transactions and people hoarded money, but for the most part, it worked. We will always have rich and poor, but it basically works."

I smiled. "I've had basic economics, Ricco."

"Bear with me. Let's say John makes baskets. They are good baskets and business is good. He makes enough money to buy clothing, food and shelter for his family. One day a guy shows up and says, 'You can own 10 stores and make 10 times as much money!' Suddenly greed shines in John's eyes and he says, 'Sure, how do I do that? I don't have the money to open 10 stores.' 'Go public!' says the man. So John enters the Stock Market and begins selling shares of his business to the public. This 'public' is usually rich people who have the disposable income for gambling on the stock market. Suddenly John has 10 stores and is making a ton of money. Good, right?"

"I don't see a problem with it."

"Then things change. To keep his shareholders happy, John has to keep making more and more money, to either increase the dividends or increase the value of the stock, otherwise, his stock value goes down and he loses money. The only way to make more money is to increase profits or cut expenses, so John opens more stores, but then the market becomes saturated. Everybody has enough baskets. John can also increase profits by using cheaper material from overseas, or even use labor from overseas where people work for a dollar a day. Pretty soon, John is importing baskets from overseas and closing his shops in the U.S. He is 'downsizing.' Pretty soon the shareholders are not happy with how much money John is making and create a 'board of directors' to tell John how to run his business for more profit. Pretty soon John no longer controls his company, is ousted from the board, and the company gets 'absorbed' or merges with a larger corporation and John is out of a job; hopefully with a decent severance package."

I smile. "What a wonderful little tale. I think I'll go shoot myself now."

Ricco laughs. "It's not all bad, but you can see how money has become the new god. We don't accumulate enough money to buy the things we need, or even want, but we accumulate money for the sake of accumulating money. Money has become a product. This is not what it was intended for. It was created to make bartering more convenient."

"Then what is the solution?"

"George."

"George?"

"Yeah, George. George also likes to make baskets, only George worked for corporate America and got fed up with it. George now makes baskets and uses local material. He uses local labor to make the baskets and refuses to go 'public.' He sells his baskets in local stores and farmer's markets and he charges more money for them. He earns enough money to feed, cloth and shelter his family and that is enough."

"But why are people paying more for his baskets when John's are cheaper?"

"Because they know it's the right thing to do. George's customers follow the Eight Fold Path number five; Right Action. Right Action basically means to 'do no harm.' I remember a whole foods expert named David Wolfe once said, 'We vote with our dollar.' I gave that a great deal of thought. How we earn that dollar is important and we will discuss that in the next Path, but how we _spend_ that dollar is extremely important. Imagine if everybody thought about what was going to happen to every dollar, quarter, dime or penny they spent, where it went, where it ended up; we could change the world. Let me use another example. The market share for organic food at Walmart went from 2% to 4%. Suddenly Walmart was scrambling to find local organic farmers! That was just 2%! China uses prison labor and has a horrible human rights record. Their environmental record sucks as well. What if 5% of Walmart's customers refused to buy anything with a 'Made in China' label on it? Do you think they would make some changes? Right Action is being conscious of our actions and how they effect the world. As we see how attachments lead to suffering and reduce those attachments, it becomes easier to make the correct choices. If we are free of debt and live a simple life, we can afford to buy the $20 basket from George instead of the cheap $10 basket from John, made from slave labor in a third world country. Living simple and local is a very Buddhist concept and leads to a content and happy life."

Ricco sat back and grinned like a Physics professor that just found the Unification Theory.

"One problem," I began, "Our economy is based on consumerism. If we quit buying, the economy collapses."

"We live in a Fiat Economy. We left the gold standard under Nixon and have been creating a pyramid scheme every since. It can't hold up forever. If we buy local and stop buying all the cell phones, electronic crap, expensive cars and houses, the economy will downsize. This is not a bad thing. If we have local food, clothing and shelter, we will survive. This would move us to a resource based economy instead of a money based economy. I spent some time in France."

I had to chuckle.

"What's so funny. Oh, the beret. I got that at a Seattle flea market. But anyway, in the country in France, we would walk to the local shops every evening to buy what we were going to eat. There was not a TV or entertainment center in the farm house. Life was simple. Paris could have collapsed and we would not have heard of it for a month."

Ricco leaned back and closed his eyes, remembering his days wandering the French countryside. I thought about what he said. It was obvious that we as Americans are addicted to our toys. I had seen how attachments to these items caused suffering. We are beyond attached, we are _addicted_. Black Friday is a religious holiday to us. But the economy? That is a big beast to tackle! Can our lifestyle really change the world? I guess we have to start somewhere and see where it goes, but something that surprised me was the Buddhist perspective. We in the West see the monks as isolationist. Isolationists don't normally care about the world situation. I then realized that it was Buddhist monks who self immolated to protest the Vietnam War and China's occupation of Tibet. _That_ is a pretty dedicated world view. I looked at Ricco.

"So the first Outward Path is Right Action?"

"Correct. Right Action is how we interact with the world around us. 'Do no harm' is the pervading message. How we spend our money is central to this concept. As we follow the inward path, our contentment and happiness increases, as well as our compassion. It is hard to be happy when we see others suffering, especially over something as silly as money. Watch the Dalai Lama, a most compassionate man. He runs all over the globe trying to get people to show more compassion for their fellow humans. A more compassionate man I have never seen."

"So if the first Outward Path has to do with how we spend our money, does the second have to do with how we earn it?"

Ricco chuckled. "Very good, grasshopper. Let's go for a walk."

21

Ricco wanted to try a different coffee shop so we were wandering down the main drag. Students hustled about with calculus textbooks and office workers sneaked outside to smoke the forbidden cigarette. We turned down a side street and Ricco said, "Here it is."

The shop was inconspicuous with a small sign hanging outside, Morning Grind. Catchy name. Ricco was a little behind me so I wandered through the door. I was greeted not with ground coffee odors but the smell of stale pot and cigarette smoke. The room was a living room with backpacks and their contents strewn about. I immediately felt my the soreness in my legs and feet.

"Damn," I thought to my self, "Ricco did it again."

I was standing in the lobby of a Hostel I had stayed in while on the Pacific Crest Trail. I recognized several of the occupants of the room. These were the other hikers I kept meeting, on and off, while hiking the trail. I felt good, comfortable, standing there. These were 'my people.' When faced with extremely stressful circumstances, like combat in the military or mountain climbing expeditions, or two thousand mile hikes, a bond forms between people unlike any other. The shared experience of 'the trail' created immediate and lasting friendships. I walked through the living area to the kitchen where I found a couple talking with a new arrival. The new comer was from Germany and just visiting, not hiking the trail. The couple was two extremely fit women in their twenties I had met while hiking. They were explaining how 'Rabbit,' (her trail name,) was attending a masters program in California while her partner was doing environmental research with the California government. They had taken some time off to hike the trail. They smiled at me as I passed. I went out the back door to the patio. Several of the hikers were gathered, drinking and smoking. I sat down and someone immediately handed me a beer. "How goes it, Bro? Jumping back on the trail soon?" The person who asked the question was 'Cream Puff.' He made the mistake of saying, at some point, "I don't care what my trail name is as long as it's not something like 'cream puff.'" Big mistake. I knew him to be from Boston. He was a college grad but left the business world to make furniture in New Mexico. He would work the winters and take off in the summer to do a long distance trail. He was a veteran hiker.

As I looked around the circle, I noticed most of the occupants were in their twenties. They were, as we call them , Millennials. I remembered the comments of some of my older, more conservative friends about Millennials. "They are worthless. They have no work ethic or sense of punctuality. They feel entitled and don't want to earn their way." As I looked around I thought back on my generation. I was one of the oldest members walking the trail but was struck by how similar they were to us 'hippies' back them. I felt like a new generation of 'hippies' was emerging but they would never use that name. I did not see laziness or non-committal. One does not hike 2600 miles if one is lazy! It was true that they were not chasing the corporate god. To them, money was just something to get from one hike to the next, or to travel overseas, or to get a tiny house in the country with solar power and a garden. They had rejected the corporate America and were choosing a different direction. This made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Perhaps there was hope for the future. Many of those present, perhaps as a result of being in nature for so long, were committed to a better environment, fair trade and human rights. No, I didn't see the lazy, entitled Millennials my conservative friends saw, but then again, did they spend any time with these kids?

Cream Puff handed me a joint and said, "Here ya go." I took it and inhaled a big drag, closing my eyes. I felt the smoke filter deep into my lungs and opened my eyes. Before me was a young man asking, "May I help you?"

He was a Barista. Ricco said, "Two Grande Espressos please. My buddy will pay." He trotted to a nearby table and secured our view of the establishment. I paid and grabbed the drinks, and joined Ricco.

"Have a nice trip?" He asked.

"Damn rabbit hole." I responded.

"So, what did you see?"

"I saw the future, or at least I hope so. The people I hiked the trail with were so...special. I know we were thrown together by unusual circumstances, but they really gave me hope for the future."

"What was special about them?" He asked.

"They had different priorities. Life was not about money or things. It was about experiences. Money was just a means of moving onto the next experience. They also seemed to care, really care about society and the environment. I know they were a select group. Not everybody does a long distance trail, but I can hope they represent the majority, rather than the minority."

Ricco seemed satisfied with my responses. "Those you met, or some of them anyway, epitomize the next Eight Fold Path, Right Living, or Right Way of Living. The Buddhist text says, 'work and career must be integrated into life as a Buddhist.' Continuing with the 'do no harm' theme, one's work must incorporate the Eight Fold Path. Right Action and Right Living are the first two of the Outward Path. Confused yet?"

"I think I got it. So our inward journey toward non-attachment includes how we _spend_ money and how we _earn_ it. I can see how this might not have been the priority 2500 years ago but it certainly is important today. We live in a money based world."

"That is correct," Ricco said, "To those kids you knew, money is freedom, freedom from the grind of the corporate world. But one must be careful lest that freedom becomes an attachment. Best to just let go of everything. _That_ is the ultimate freedom!"

This was a lot to digest, and I still had two more Paths to wander down. "So where to next?"

"We'll leave the rabbit hole alone for now."

"Thank God!"

22

The roar was almost deafening. Ricco had chosen the coffee stand at the train station. We sat in the lobby area where trains rolled in, people chattered, announcers squawked the next arrival. In a slightly higher tone than usual, I barked in Ricco's ear, "I assume you brought me here for a reason?" He simply looked up and smiled. He polished off his espresso and trotted outside. I followed.

"Right Speech. What better place to introduce the topic than in a station bristling with conversations. I wonder how many had something to say or just liked the sound of their own voice."

We wandered until we found a quiet park bench.

"The seventh Eight Fold Path, third of the Outward Path, you may find rather mundane compared to the others. Right Speech is relevant but I'm not sure I would give it the importance attributed to the other paths. Right Speech is, again, a reflection of what is going on inside. The person with a still mind actually _hears_ the person who is talking. Many people simply bide their time and rehearse what they are going to say while the other person is talking and never hear what the person actually said. Entienda?

"Sorry, were you talking?'

"Oh, yeah, you're a funny guy."

I couldn't resist. "Sounds awfully pragmatic compared to what we've been discussing."

"Buddha was a pragmatic man. He even had a rule that his monks had to pee sitting down. More hygienic that way."

"That is pragmatic."

Well, it is one of the Eight Fold Path so I must include it. However, it _does_ emphasize the issue of the monkey brain. If you are rehearsing what you are going to say when the person stops talking, you're in the past or contemplating the future. It also addresses us being accountable for what we say. Sometimes we need a little more compassion when addressing others, especially on the freeway."

"Roger that."

"Glad you agree. Now for Eight Fold Path number eight! Drum roll please!"

I did my best imitation of a drum roll, which I'm sure was lacking.

"Good enough," Ricco responded, "The Eight Path is Right Discipline!"

He looked at me for my response. It was lukewarm at best. I've always hated that word, 'discipline.' It reminded me of boot camp and piano lessons. It was also one of the characteristics I was in most need of. I was never one for being discipline about anything. Writing was tough enough.

Ricco continued, "I see I've tapped on a well loved subject? Perhaps 'discipline' is too harsh a word. Let's use commitment instead. You Westerners don't like discipline." Ricco continued.

"Us Westerners?" I queried.

"Oh, guess I'm about as western as they come, huh?" Ricco trotted along near the seawall as we dodged joggers and pet owners. "Commitment is a nicer word. Let us take, for example, a fat person. If they wish to lose weight, they must commit to an eating program to lose the weight. If they go on 'a diet' and then return to the old eating habits, they gain the weight back. They must change their eating habits _for life._ If someone's muscles are out of shape, they must commit to a program of exercise for life, not just for a couple weeks. The same is true of those seeking happiness. Like bad eating habits, we have been conditioned to think bad thoughts. I had a friend once who called it 'stinkin thinkin.' I love that term. But the secret here is not to think _good_ thoughts but to not think _at all._ "

Ricco paused to let that sink in a bit. I asked, "So we must stop our thought processes through meditation?"

"Exactly. We are going to stop thinking all together. Many see meditation as a process of sitting in a corner and chanting. It is much more than that. It is a way of life, but let us crawl before we walk." Ricco found his favorite rock and jumped up, giving us about equal height. He was now able to look me square in the eye. "As amateurs to life, we begin with sitting meditation. There are several types. With some, you chant a mantra or focus on an object like a candle. The Zen like to give their followers a coan, an riddle, if you will, that has no logical answer, thus suspending normal thought. The style is up to the individual. As one gets better, they can actual just sit and stop thinking. One of my favorite techniques is to sit, and as a thought enters my head, I simply dismiss it, like an unruly child walking into the room. I say, 'Thought, I see you but you can go now.' Over time, you can just sit and clear your mind for longer and longer periods. It's always difficult at first but, no one said this was going to easy!"

I had practiced meditation before and found some styles hard and others easier, but I understood what he meant by eventually being able to just sit with no thoughts in your head. I often found myself trying to explain meditation to a friend and how it helps me when I can't sleep because too many thoughts are zooming through my head. When I say I meditate and stop the thinking, they give me that 'deer in the headlights' look. Most people truly do not know how to stop thinking.

"You said crawl before we walk. So meditation is not the end all?" I asked.

"Oh, no. Not even close. It is just the beginning. You remember a book called Zen and the Art of Archery?"

"Yeah, great book."

"Well, that was step two. Once one is able to sit and concentrate on stopping the thought process, one must integrate that concept in to daily life. Zen and the Art of Archery explained how the Samurai used the technique of 'no thought' to perfect their art. Pretty soon other athletes discovered that they made their best shots when they were not thinking. They found that thinking just got in the way. Soon we had the Zen of Golfing, Zen of Tennis, Zen of Running, ad nauseum. Truth be told, life is better without thought. When we stop thinking about what we are doing and just do it, we are in the now, the present. We get the mind out of the way. This is what many athletes call _the zone."_

"I see where you are heading with this."

"I _thought_ you would, grasshopper. Pardon the pun. Remember the story I told you about the Maharashtra Yogi saying he was meditating all the time. This is the pinnacle, but this also takes commitment, it takes discipline. Our goal is to go through life without the pesky Mind getting in the way. Being free of thought allows you see the world as it is, not as you have created it with the Mind. My buddy, Carlos Casteneda talks about how stopping thought, or _internal dialogue,_ will make your world collapse. To me, it's more like a veil on reality is suddenly dropped, and we see the world as it really is, without pretenses, without overlays. It's like a house of cards that have collapsed and you see them for what they truly are, just cards. Being in the now allows you to live life to it's fullest."

We had walked around the bay and found ourselves at our favorite coffee shop, once again. We stopped outside the door. Ricco turned to me and said, "You see, there is no free lunch here. All the paths we have discussed require understanding and dedication. This is why so many people in the Asian world will join monasteries for a period of time, to help them along the way. The full time monks give them guidance so that when they leave the monastery, they will have a head start on the Eight Fold Path, that will, hopefully, allow them to lead a peaceful and happy life."

I knew we had come to a turning point. We had discussed the Four Noble Truths and the Eight Fold Path. We had just reached number eight. I found myself wishing there were eighteen paths so we could just continue with the discussion. I had come to enjoy listening to Ricco's smooth and peaceful way of explaining things. At the same time, I knew I had to consolidate my material and write a final draft. I had sent a query letter to a publisher I had used before and he expressed interest. Time to get to work. I opened the door for Ricco but he hesitated.

"Sorry, my friend, but time for one more looking glass."

He pointed at the door with his nose and I knew I was to go first. One final journey. Where would this one take me? With a bit of anxiety and a smile, I stepped through the door.

23

I found myself in the coffee shop. Wow, big surprise. Nothing was different. There was no deja vu or mystical quality. I was confused.

I looked around and saw Ricco sitting at our usual table in the back corner and approached him.

"This was not what I was expecting."

Ricco laughed and laughed as though he had pulled the worlds greatest gag on me. "Sit down and I will explain."

I dropped my messenger bag on the usual chair and sat down. Ricco used his paw to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Sorry, my friend, I could not resist. There is a method to my madness. You see, the last looking glass is you."

I gave him a perplexed look which allowed him to continue giggling.

"What I mean is, the next step is for you to walk through the looking glass within yourself and see the next truth. I have given you all the information you need. The next step is yours. Then I will tell you about the last two paths."

"Huh? Wait, I thought you said there were eight paths?"

"I did. The last two are not paths you must walk but rather the reward you will find in the end. They are the Grand Prize for walking the Eight Fold Path. They are Right Knowledge and Right Liberation. But lets not get ahead of ourselves. Time for your final journey. Take a drink."

Ricco had already gotten my Latte for me and I took a sip. I felt a bit funny and began to notice Ricco becoming smaller as thought backing through a tunnel. (I knew he couldn't resist one more trick on me.) I had the feeling of drifting backwards, deeper into my mind. I then suddenly stopped. I turned around to see Tom Petty in a Mad Hatter outfit.

"Alright, this is entirely too weird. I loved your video, by the way." Tom smiled at me and pointed to my left. I knew immediately this was my past. Different creatures were bouncing around on mushrooms and seemed in a panic. One frog was all full of anxiety saying,"But if only I had...," and "But I shouldn't have...." Above him was a lizard or chameleon snapping at him. "Yeah, you dumb frog. You were stupid. You were an idiot." I looked back at Tom but he just smiled and pointed to my right. This was my future. What I saw were various chess players running about, shouting, "We must be ready for this!" and "But what will we do if that happens!" I looked back at Tom.

"Okay, Tom. I get it. To my left is my past, or my thoughts of the past, full of apprehension, regret, remorse. To my right is my future, full of anxiety, worry, attempts to anticipate what is going to happen and make plans to deal with it." I listened to the clatter from both sides. It was my own mind. I was obsessed with the past and what it meant, while all the time worrying about the future and what was going to happen to me. I looked at Tom and said, What now?"

He merely waved goodbye.

I was looking at Ricco. "Couldn't resist, could you?"

"THAT, was all you my friend. Nice journey?"

"When I went through the looking glass, I did not anticipate Lewis Carol's looking glass."

"Nice touch though, don't you think?"

"Yeah, nice touch." I sat for a moment and pondered my little visit with Tom Petty. I began to see a pattern. All those apprehensions, doubts, anxieties, worries. They all involved fear. Almost every negative feeling in the dungeon of my mind could be traced back to a fear, a fear of something.

"I seem to live in fear, of my past and future."

Ricco smiled at and sat up. "Now we're getting somewhere. Yes, it is fear, but not of the past or future." He sipped his espresso a moment and looked me in the eye. "It is fear of the present."

He had me there. "Fear of the present?" I didn't understand.

He saw my perplexity and explained, "You see, your mind cannot exist in the present. Through following the Eight Fold Path, you bring yourself into the present, thought is suspended and the Mind disappears. The Mind does not want to disappear. To disappear is death. What your Mind is afraid of is death."

He lost me, and he knew it. It tickled him no end. He began again. "Why do you think Westerners have such an obsession with death. The fear of death in your culture is almost palatable. It is actually the Mind who fears death. This is why Atheism never really caught on in your culture, because nothing is more fearful than _non-existence._ The idea that this is it and then, poof, we cease to exist? That scares the hell out of Westerners. What is really happening is the Mind is afraid of non-existence, and the Eight Fold Path leads to it's demise. Your Mind is holding on to it's existence with an iron grip. You must let go. The fear of death, the fear of non-existence, is the most crippling of attachments."

What he said had a ring of truth to it but I still was not sold. "So how are we to handle this fear?"

"With the Eight Fold Path. Remember the analogy of a drop of rain falling in the ocean? We must trust in the universe and ourselves that all is well and we can just live life. The Buddhist's perspective of Nirvana does not incorporate an individual dying and maintaining their individuality unless they wish to reincarnate. The goal is to get _off_ the cycle of reincarnation. To do this, we must lose our death grip on the individual self."

Ricco noticed my confusion. "Let's put it this way. You jump on a roller coaster at the fair. If you know, or even _think_ the ride is going to end by slamming into a brick wall, how will the ride go?"

"It will be full of anxiety and fear."

"Exactly. Very similar to how most people live today, with the fear of death. Now suppose you get on that roller coaster and know the ride is going to end with corn dogs and cotton candy. What now?"

"Now I can just relax and enjoy the ride."

"Exactly."

Ricco paused to let this sink in a bit. What I gathered thus far was that a great deal of our anxiety, or fears about life stemmed from our fear of death. By letting go if this attachment to fear, we could enjoy life a whole lot more.

"So, from all the attachments we've discussed, you feel the fear of death to be the most prevalent?"

"Don't you? I did some research while I was down in Arizona for a paper I was writing. I scoured the medical library on NDEs, near death experiences. I figured with all the improvements in modern emergency medicine, we were bringing people back from the dead almost every day. What did they have to say?"

"What _did_ they have to say?"

"They didn't want to come back."

"That's it? No light at the end of the tunnel or dead relatives?"

"Oh, there was plenty of that but the message I got was, it's nicer over there."

"Then why don't we just off ourselves and save the headache?"

"Because it's not a headache. That has been the whole point of our discussion. The principles Buddha laid down were not designed to inform the world of a heaven or hell or soul. He merely wanted us to learn, live, enjoy, and not worry about what comes next. It will all be okay. At the end of the 'roller coaster of life' is corn dogs and cotton candy. That's all."

I pondered this idea for a moment. How much of my worry and regret of the past was related to my fear of death. I know a great deal of anxiety about my future was. I liked the analogy of the roller coaster though, because I had _not_ been enjoying the ride. I found myself constantly worried about what my life meant; was there meaning to what I was doing; what would my legacy be after I was gone? I was certainly not enjoying the ride.

"But you mentioned two more paths, Right Knowledge and Right Liberation?"

"Perhaps we should save those for another day."

24

The museum seemed an odd place to meet, but who was I to argue. We met out front and paid our dues, wandering through a display of modern abstract art.

"I didn't realize you were such an art buff." I asked Ricco.

"I'm not. This is just a nice quiet place to discuss what we've...uh...discussed. Besides, most people will think we are discussing the art work.."

"It is relaxing, isn't it."

"Yes."

We stopped at a marble oblesque with a slight curve in the middle. "Interesting piece." I observed.

"Looks like a dildo." Ricco trotted to the next gallery and found a bench.

"So, we have come far, young grasshopper."

"Indeed we have. I may have a publisher lined up for this."

Ricco looked at me. I couldn't tell if he was pleased or disinterested. He ignored the comment and moved on. "So before we get to the golden ring, shall we recap?"

"Right Knowledge and Right Liberation?"

"Yuppers."

I had to laugh. "You think Buddha used terms like 'Yuppers?'"

"I think Buddha had a sense of humor. The Dalai Lama does."

"True."

Ricco continued, "We now know we are born to be inherently happy but layers of crap immediately begin layering upon us to cover this happiness. Like the layers of an onion, the diamond of our happiness gets squelched in the putrid lake of attachments."

"Putrid lake?"

"Guess that's a bit harsh, but you get the drift. We form material, emotional and spiritual attachments that distract and draw us away from our true nature. I feel we've hammered that topic sufficiently."

"I agree."

"What most people fail to recognize is the use of language. As we grow older and label everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, and categorize, and form thoughts; these thoughts take on a life of their own and run away with us. All those thoughts running around in our head convince us they are the _real_ us. They are static, noise, a distraction that draws us away from life."

We had turned a corner and were staring a canvas with a swirl of colors.

Ricco stared for a time. "I'm not a fan of abstract are but there is something about this one."

"The blending of colors, perhaps?"

"Yeah, maybe that's it. Anyway, these thoughts become their own identity which I refer to as the Mind; also called the 'monkey brain' or internal dialogue. This Mind helps us maintain our attachments. A great deceiver, this Mind."

"That's pretty funny coming from a coyote."

"I guess my reputation precedes me, however, the greatest trick of the Mind is the invention of time. By pulling us out of the present and into the future or past, the Mind assures it's existence."

"Wait a minute. The Mind _invents_ time?"

"Sure it does. Point to the future for me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Can you point out where the future is? Or perhaps the past. Show me the past."

I just stood there with a dumbfounded look on my face.

Ricco continued, "You can't, can you? Because it does not exist. It is a trick of the mind. As long as you exist in the past or future, you have to _think_ about the past or future, keeping that chain of thoughts going and keeping the Mind alive. Drawing you out of the present is the Minds greatest trick. Place yourself fully in the present and the Mind just miraculously disappears! But we've been over this. The Mind's greatest fear is non-existence. This fear of non-existence manifests as a fear of death. We've learned to project this fear on the outside world. Remember, the roller coaster ends with cotton candy."

"And corn dogs. Let's not forget the corn dogs."

Ricco laughed. "Okay, we'll include the corn dogs. You get the picture, do you not? Keep the self in the present and let the Mind just disappear."

I had incorporated Ricco's teachings in my meditations and saw the truth behind what he was saying. The Eight Fold Path was a systematic method to help an individual incorporate the Four Noble Truths into their life. The first four Paths helped me to see the truth behind the Four Noble Truths and help me commit to dedicating my life to the removal of attachments. The second four paths helped with the actual outward exercise of living the Four Noble Truths by living a simpler life style, exercising and eating healthy. The most important part, of course, was the discipline of meditation. As I incorporated these principles into my life, I found myself growing lighter and lighter. Some days I felt like I would just float away. I told Ricco this once and he said, "Don't float away until we're finished here!" and laughed. I found myself enjoying life again. It would take time before I could get the mind chatter to shut up and leave me alone but, as Ricco said, it requires practice and discipline, or commitment. My life had truly changed. I was now able to just appreciate each day as it came, rather than being paranoid about every event, past and future. I was slowly convincing myself the past and future does not exist. It would take time. I explained this to Ricco as we wandered the museum and he seemed pleased, like a professor who's student finally had that 'A-Ha' moment.

We turned a final corner and, low and behold, the museum had a coffee stand.

Ricco smiled, "Well, looky there!"

"Espresso, I presume?"

"Glad you offered."

25

"Coffee is like sushi, the first bite is always the best." Ricco smiled and continued, "Well, tourists, this ends our tour of modern art. We hope to see you again. Tip your guides generously." He took another generous slug of espresso and continued, "So as we begin to see reality for what it is, the veil that has been cast over our world begins to lift. We see reality for what it really is. Like a house of cards fallen, we see cards as just cards, trees as just trees, buildings as just buildings, and the world begins to change. Reality is left bare and naked. A 'deep insight into ultimate reality' as the Pali puts it. What emerges with this realization is a self-awakening, a self-awakening that leads to freedom. The joy you see in the eyes of the Buddhist monks is their ultimate freedom.

"Freedom?" I asked.

"Freedom. We are liberated from our attachments and illusions. The naked reality stands before us and we are free to explore this new world.

"That's it?"

"You were expecting me to disappear in a puff of smoke perhaps?"

"Well, anything is possible, after all, I'm still sitting here talking to a coyote."

"You still hung up on that? Next time I'll come as a rabbit."

"Can you do that?"

"Dude, seriously?"

"Just checking."

We sat and sipped awhile. It seemed rather anticlimactic and I said so.

"This is life. It's not like the movies with a grandiose climax where the good guy wins and gets the girl. Life is an ongoing process. No, scratch that. Life is an ongoing dance, and I've given you a formula to enjoy it. Life has ups and downs, even for the Dalai Lama, but we should enjoy the dance. Life should not be an endless drudge. We can still get up in the morning and go to work or send the children off to school and enjoy it. I think Hollywood has done us a great disservice. The Buddhist life is simple, taking joy in simple pleasures as though they are the greatest gifts from the greatest Kings. That is what makes this espresso so special; and your company."

I proposed a toast, to the Four Noble, or Ignoble Truths, and we sipped our java in silence.

26

My manuscript was completed and I printed an extra copy to give to Ricco. I was anxious to get his input on the material. With packet in hand, I walked to our usual coffee shop and entered, looking at the back corner table. It was empty. I went and sat down to wait. Carl came by and took my order, the usual.

"Carl, have you seen Ricco?"

He gave me a puzzled look, "Ricco?"

"Never mind."

Carl went about his business.

I just sat with my chin on my paw and watched the people.

57
