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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Antsy, but enlightened
» Kaneohe
It was as Herman Hesse wrote of Siddhartha: Yes, everyone loved Siddhartha. He aroused joy in everyone, he was a delight to all. But Siddhartha was no joy to himself. He brought no pleasure to himself.
So it was for the second Lama Jey Tsong Khapa now that he was back home in Hawaii. Being in a monastery high in the frozen Himalayas was one thing, being cooped up and hidden away was quite another. The 18-year-old who had been quite content to fast and meditate for days in isolation was suddenly getting -- bored is too strong a word for a living Buddha -- he was getting antsy. Enlightened antsy, but antsy all the same.
Life in the monastery, after all, was full of activity -- intensive study, lively debate, the playing of drums. And unlike many monks, the young lama from an early age was physically active. As he grew he became a runner, and found in it a kind of meditation. And running was in his genes. He was one-quarter Hawaiian on his mother's side, descended from the royal runners of old Hawaii. Generation after generation, his family swiftly carried messages between kings and chiefs. Running on rock was in his genes too, and so he'd run in the Himalayas, to the amusement of many, to the further enlightenment of himself.
Looking out at the bay from the lanai of Kamasami Khan's hillside home, the young lama decided he would go for a run, and put down his cup of tea. He heard voices from inside, one he'd known always through the eons. She was called Bodhicita Guzman now, but he knew her as Sparshavajra, his eternal consort. She was wearing the gray habit of a Catholic nun, and this gladdened his heart. Then came the revelation that she was not a nun, it was a disguise, and she was the lover of Fon Du, leader of the local Chinese secret police who had orders to remove him. Which, of course, was the reason he was now a virtual prisoner of Khan and the Free Tibet Warrior Society.
Surely he would have been dead if not for them, for the Communists had already made two attempts on the life of the young man who was taking his place. So he understood the need to avoid Te-Wu's attention. He'd also known that the Chinese government would react with some paranoia -- it seemed to be an official policy of the Communists -- when it was announced that the second Lama Jey Tsong Khapa had been born 16 years ago in Hawaii and would be making a homecoming. But none of his mentors believed they would be so drastic.
Still, he wanted to know more of Hawaii than the inside of this house. "I'd like to go for a run," he announced.
"OK, Jey, let's go!" Bodhicita said.
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Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com