“All the way from India?”, I asked.
“The path is not always short, but I listened to the ocean, its voice changed daily, I found worth in my travel. I learned much from listening to the water in the deep sea,” answered Siddhartha.
“Oh, I almost forgot, you lived by the river as a ferryman (pg. 139) and learned from the river, I assumed the Ocean wouldn’t have a voice. It must’ve taken weeks to come to America by boat!”
“Time does not exist when time is just an illusion to contemplate (107).”
“Everything you say is intriguing, almost riddle like.”
“On the path to enlightenment the world seems that way.”
Later when we got back to my home I told Siddhartha where we would be visiting. He was very exited about my first suggestion but hesitant on the second.
“I mustn’t return to a place of dice playing and nausea (82),” pleaded Siddhartha
“Sometimes it’s good to go back, just to see what it is like from a different perspective,” I explained.
“You are right Nate I do have a new, and different perspective, it may be helpful.”
After about an hours drive we finally arrived at a parking lot near the woods. As we journeyed through the forest Siddhartha experienced some déjà-vu.
“This reminds me of my time as an ascetic, as a samana,” He said, “I learned to master my body and mind, neither hunger nor time could stop my quest.”
“I can’t even imagine living in the forest without supplies or food for a week let alone a few years. You must have been very determined.” I said.
Eventually we arrived at the true destination, Bash Bish Waterfall. Siddhartha was amazed at the peacefulness of the setting. The Waterfall was not even a mile inland from the busy street we had once been on. After a bit of quiet meditation Siddhartha spoke.
“The water has a clear voice, but it is delivering an almost cryptic message.”
“What is it saying?” I inquired.
“Fallen.” Siddhartha said, and a long pause ensued.
“Are you sure?”
“I am sure, the wise old ferryman taught me well, he taught me how to listen(106) and I have made no mistake, the waterfall says fallen.”
“I do not doubt your skill, but I wanted to be sure, there is an old tale about this waterfall. A Native American girl once jumped off the cliff in distress during her day, I should have known this might be unsettling.”
“No, it is good, I have learned that water can carry even unsettling messages.”
The next day, I told Siddhartha it was time to go to Mohegan Sun. Unlike the last time I told him, he was excited.
“I can’t wait to see this world from an alternate perspective!”
“I’m glad to see you have no reservations about this venture,” I replied excitedly.
When we arrived at the Casino the lights and sounds filled our eyes and ears. We walked past tables of gamblers, some winning big, some losing large. Siddhartha spoke.
“This reminds me of the anxiety I so readily felt back in the city, the anxiety I always sought so hard to renew, the anxiety(79) that buried my old self but also humbled it for when I dug it up from its premature grave on the fateful day by the river.”
“So do you enjoy this reminiscing?”
“Yes, very much so, it was the turning point in my life, and I had since sought to forget that life, but now, I embrace it, it brought me to enlightenment.”
When it was time to say goodbye to Siddhartha I was sad. His internal happiness often made me smile and feel happy myself(151-152). His happiness exuded to those around him and everyone he met was also sad to see him go. As I thought about my trips with Siddhartha I realized neither resulted in the same way I expected.
I expected the trip to the waterfall would make Siddhartha happy, to make him gleam with happiness, but contrarily, he was mildly disturbed. However he learned from something, the water, something he had spent so much time with in the past once again.
The casino was interesting as well, I expected Siddhartha to be uncomfortable, uneasy about being in a place filled with gambling. I figured it would remind him of the darkest days of his life, instead it made him truly realize they were some of the most life altering he had ever had.