| A GOAL-LESS GOAL: AN INTERVIEW WITH ACHARYA, MOH HARDIN | |
It was clear: I was going to search, and I would maybe take something from here, take something from there, and put things together, but, basically, I was in charge.
I realized that I had no idea how to relate to another human being, other than trying to impress them. |
Michalik:
At a certain point you met your guru, Chögyam Trungpa. Can you describe that meeting? How that came about? And what that was like in your life?
Hardin: I knew I was looking for something. I would have defined myself as being on a spiritual search, in some way, in my life. I would have said that. I was that conscious, so to speak. At the same time, I didn't quite know what I was looking for. One thing I was quite sure of (this was in the late 60s, around 70) was that I would never have a teacher. Because at that that time there were all these gurus from the East and all their devotees. The whole thing just really turned me off. I had a certain pride, so to speak. It was clear: I was going to search, and I would maybe take something from here, take something from there, and put things together, but, basically, I was in charge. At a certain point I read an excerpt of a book of his, Meditation in Action, in the Whole Earth Catalogue, and I thought, 'Hmm? That sounds right.' And I actually did go hear him give a talk, a public talk. He was in town. I was impressed. I was taking what I could and putting it into this collection. I didn't think of it that way. I didn't experience it that way. But, basically, I was impressed with this person. He was saying things that seemed true to me. Later he came to town and was doing a seminar. I wanted to have an interview with him. His schedule, as it turned out, was quite full, so I had to kind of go back and forth to get an interview, but I was told I had a three-minute interview the next day. So I went back to my room, and, as was my habit at the time, I got stoned; and I was thinking about this interview the next day, what I was going to say to him. I don't want it to sound particularly dramatic, but there was a kind of an insight. It was actually more like turning a light on or having a mirror suddenly held up in my face, because I realized that there was no way I was going to impress him, that he was not going to buy my trip. Simultaneously, I realized that I had no idea how to relate to another human being, other than trying to impress them. This was quite shocking, quite penetrating, so to speak. I saw myself as someone who went around trying to impress people. Suddenly, that was seemingly taken away, and I had no idea what a human relationships was, and who I was, so to speak, in relationship to this other person. That was, I suppose, a little enlightenment experience or awakening, which was obviously created by him, by the anticipation of my interaction with him. It was shattering again in terms of my sense of who I was and inspiring, because I saw in him that there was another way to relate to another human being without trying simply to impress them. Anyway, I prepared my little speech, because I didn't know what else to do. I went in the next day and gave my little speech, at the end of which I said, "I'd like to be your student." He said, "Yes." And he told me, first of all, to establish a daily sitting practice; he suggested that I read Milarepa, a Tibetan yogi; and to remember that the teachings take place in all life situations. He hugged me, and that was the end of my three minutes. But, suddenly, much to my surprise, I had a teacher. I had a teacher because the situation seemed completely trustworthy. He was reflecting back on me what was true more than anything I'd ever heard before, what was true in my experience. And he didn't have anything in it for himself. I didn't have any sense that he was trying to build up something or get something from me, that there was in him some kind of fundamental genuineness and kindness. So that flipped my mind. |