Enlightenment and My Progress (Or Lack Thereof): Lesson1

I thought a good idea would be to follow up my last meditation on Enlightenment with occasional updates of my insights into the True Nature of Reality. I imagine that most of them will take place in the men's bathroom on the second floor of the building where I work, as this seems to be the place where I have most of my epiphanies. What follows is my latest lesson on “emptiness”:

I was at the urinal today, when I saw someone do a flying kick through the entrance of the bathroom. Yes, you guessed it: Mr. Snoogles. After noticing that I was relieving myself and perhaps thinking that I needed some entertainment while doing my business, Mr. Snoogles showed me his latest kata technique. Somewhere in the midst of his second time through, a student, whom I’ve known to be very shy, walked in. After seeing Mr. Snoogles kicking imaginary opponents and deflecting pretend blows to the face, the student quickly averted his eyes to the ground and moved to the farthest urinal in a manner I interpreted to be quite uneasy. Mr. Snoogles, in true form, was completely oblivious to this third party member, and was about to begin yet another kata cycle, when I motioned to him with both palms open and a go-ahead gesture that maybe he ought to use the bathroom for it's original purpose: going to bathroom. Now, I respect Mr. Snoogles’ adaptability in turning the lavatory into a makeshift dojyou, but I fear that other customers might not be as keen on using this space for martial arts practice as Mr. Snoogles is.

After some thought, though, I realized that Mr. Snoogles was cryptically using this event as a teachable moment. That is, he was trying to impart on me the practice of breaking down the psychological barriers that cause us to assume that certain places and things have an inherent meaning. What Mr. Snoogles was trying to teach me was that a bathroom—like anywhere else—is a priori of meaning save the connotations we impose upon it. A true sage sees a place for its emptiness, and in response, offers a dynamic adaptability to this apparent contingency, hence Mr. Snoogles’ use of the men's bathroom on the second floor of the building where I work as a training ground for karate.


I left Mr. Snoogles in the bathroom and returned to my desk to record this jewel of knowledge. While I was writing, though, Mr. Snoogles poked his head around the corner and said in his very unique and mysterious English:

“Johnny, why we the purpose of bathroom going?”

He then laughed like a little Buddha who has just posed a riddle to a pupil with absolutely no chance of understanding the vast and inexhaustible wisdom of his master. As a result, I now sit here bewildered, contingent, and temporary.