I am intimidated by gurus. I feel they must see right through me, and I suppose I have yet to accept that what they may see is entirely good.
On the other hand, I believe the idea is supposed to be that they do see right through me ... and therefore what they see is entirely good.
Let's hope it's the latter for everyone's sake.
My children also see right through me, but I am also sure that they love me very much. Of course, they depend on me entirely, and so the deck is stacked in my favor. At any rate, I get to love them back--and it's a beautiful thing.
My children are my gurus now. When they are present, they are very present and--if I tune in--there is so much love and joy and laughter there. So much purity, so much energy.
I am not always "tuned in," of course. Often, I am tuned out. But after observing myself for some time, I noticed that I preferred to be tuned in.
Just noticed ... just noticed.
Soon enough, it was hard to see a reason to tune out.
Self torture, perhaps.
Still, I do that once in a while. But my kids are my reminder. The little bell goes "ding"--Aldous Huxley's bells from "Island"--and I am reminded,
"Oh! Come back! Come back! Where are you going? ... There is no There there!"
You don't have to be a parent, of course. You can do this with bird song. The wind.
It's all God talking.
But these days, for me, it's my kids.
Aaaaag ga ga ba ba ba! They say:
Hello, Mommy!!! I am having a picnic with my friends. Can you come? Can you come?
... Here is your chair.