Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 54

           Ipickedmyselfupandranbarefoot,mypulseslamminginmyears,allthewaytothetemple,foundaseat,openedupmyprayerbookjustasthechantwasbeginningand-bleedingdownmylegthewholewhile-IstartedtosingtheGurugita.

           ItwasonlyafterafewversesthatIcaughtmybreathandwasabletothinkmynormal,instinctivemorningthought:Idon’twanttobehere.AfterwhichIheardSwamijiburstoutlaughinginmyhead,saying:That’sfunny-yousureactlikesomebodywhowantstobehere.

           AndIrepliedtohim,OK,then.Youwin.

           Isatthere,singingandbleedingandthinkingthatitwasmaybetimeformetochangemyrelationshipwiththisparticularspiritualpractice.TheGurugitaismeanttobeahymnofpurelove,butsomethinghadbeenstoppingmeshortfromofferingupthatloveinsincerity.SoasIchantedeachverseIrealizedthatIneededtofindsomething-orsomebody-towhomIcoulddevotethishymn,inordertofindaplaceofpurelovewithinme.ByVerseTwenty,Ihadit:Nick.

           Nick,mynephew,isaneight-year-oldboy,skinnyforhisage,scarilysmart,frighteninglyastute,sensitiveandcomplex.Evenminutesafterhisbirth,amidallthesquallingnewbornsinthenursery,healonewasnotcrying,butlookingaroundwithadult,worldlyandworriedeyes,lookingasthoughhe’ddoneallthisbeforesomanytimesandwasn’tsurehowexcitedhefeltabouthavingtodoitagain.Thisisachildforwhomlifeisneversimple,achildwhohearsandseesandfeelseverythingintensely,achildwhocanbeovercomebyemotionsofastsometimesthatitunnervesusall.

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