Miss Buddha (60 page)

“And there is the silence settling upon a
forest where the storm has now died down to virtual stillness.
Where the waving and rustling of branches—where that mumbling and
scratching and sharing of foresty opinion has settled into peaceful
and unnoticeable swaying to the rhythm of the earth. But that is a
silence in contrast to the wind. A lack of rushing air. A lack.

“There is the silence under northern skies
when you step out of the noisily warm cottage and into the snowy
winter’s night. Again, a silence of contrast, and one that last no
longer than it takes your ear to adjust, for soon the ear finds
that this silence is not true, there is the whisper of stars above,
a crackling of atmosphere, heard as not silence when you really
listen.

“This winter’s night also holds the vast
settling of snow, slowly pulled by a never sleeping gravity into
the arms of the earth and with it the minute shifting of flakes so
numerous as to give the number of stars above a run for their
money.

“Again, this a relative silence, one of
contrast.

“But there is a true silence, a living
silence. A silence without which there would be no relative
silence. A silence without which there would be no life.

“Wise men have always known this. Wise men
have always practiced this. Lao Tzu was prepared to leave his home
for the wilderness without saying a word. Nothing, he had decided,
would improve upon his silence. The Buddha, until entreated to
change his mind, leaned toward silence. Many a mystic have caught a
glimpse, a living moment of utter stillness that says all, to then
spend the rest of their lives discovering or walking the path
toward it, for nothing else, nothing else—once you’ve heard, seen,
experienced it, truly matters.”

Ruth paused to sip some water. She looked
over at Ananda, who nodded, yes, yes.

She looked over at Abbot White as well, who
also, Ananda noticed, smiled and nodded in agreement. He, too, knew
the perfect stillness—hovering above his long-ago sunlit ocean—he,
too, knew what she was talking about.

Then she said, “Another thing about true
silence: it is unkillable. Many have tried to kill it, both in
themselves and in others.

“And another thing: It does not gender
greed. It does not gender craving. The more silent the man, the
closer he grows to this unkillable thing, the less he needs, the
more unprofitable to those chasing wealth at his expense he
becomes.

“When I say unkillable, I truly mean that.
It is also the only permanent thing there is. All other things in
this cosmos rise and fade. They rise and they fade. True stillness
never rises, it never fades.

“True stillness is, in fact, not of this
cosmos and sees no need to play by its rules.

“Yet, without true stillness there would be
no cosmos.”

Ruth paused again to let her words sink in,
to let them germinate, perhaps take root. Ananda looked over at
Abbot White. His eyes were closed but the smile on the Abbot’s lips
spoke volumes.

Ruth continued:

“The true silence is deathless, it lies
beyond the cosmos of cause and effect, yet it lies in the heart of
every being. In the heart of everyone in this hall. In the heart of
every person in this city. In the heart of every living thing in
this world, in this cosmos.

“The Buddha once said that there is a
dimension where there is neither earth, nor water, nor fire, nor
wind. Where there is neither this world, nor the next world, nor
sun, nor moon. And there, he said, there is neither coming nor
going, nor stasis. There, there is neither passing away nor
arising. This dimension has no stance, no foundation, no
support.

“This, the Buddha went on to say, is the
unborn, the unoriginated, the uncreated, the unformed. And were it
not for this unborn, unoriginated, uncreated, unformed dimension at
the heart of things, escape from the world of the born, the
originated, the created, the formed, would not be possible.

“This is true silence, the unconditioned
stillness.

“Incidentally, and perhaps I should say
luckily, this is also true happiness, the thing we’re all—were we
to look deeply and be perfectly honest with ourselves—the very
thing we’re all chasing.

“This is the unproduced happiness that does
not have to be sold to us, and so brings no profit to anyone. It
was never born and it will never die. Perhaps we could call it
eternal, but that would place it in the same dimension as time, and
this stillness lies beyond. It is deathless. Both beyond and closer
to us than anything this cosmos has to offer, be it wealth,
pleasure, pain, lust, or any happiness that arises to then
fade.

“The closer we get to this stillness, the
more silent the relative silences we traverse to get there, the
better we see the walls we have erected to protect us from true
stillness. For yes, this is true, and you can see for yourself that
this is true, that no one other than you have separated you from
the deathless. What distances there are, what barriers have been
erected, they are all imposed by the seeker him or herself.

“The stiller you become, the more apparent
this will grow.

“For true silence is alive, aware,
deathless.”

Here Ruth fell silent for the last time. She
did not invite questions. The hall lighting rose, the silence
cracked here and there by whispered comments and questions, then
broke entire into a wide susurrus of amazement and perhaps a thirst
for more.

Ruth looked out over the audience, then left
the stage.

::
111 :: (Los Angeles)

While Ruth had vetoed the suggestion to allow
television crews at the UCLA lecture, she had allowed the print
media, provided no flash photography was used, and the television
reporters could also attend, of course, by the same rule.

Ruth Marten was news again. But this time
the media was strangely split as to whether the news was good or
bad.

The Los Angeles Times—seeing as this Marten
Revival was taking place in the paper’s back yard—surprised not a
few by coming down on the side of good.

The following morning’s headline read
“Beneficent.” The lead read,

“USC’s new Uber-lecturer Ruth Marten
captivated an overflowing Royce Hall yesterday with a mesmerizing,
albeit brief, lecture on silence. As if to personify the subject of
her lecture—and this writer must confess she has never experienced
anything quite like it—the audience barely drew breath while Miss
Marten spoke.”

The story then went on to tell of the
substance of the lecture, while also weaving in some of the back
story, including Miss Marten’s Cal Tech Science credentials and
(never far away from any reporter’s mind) the Federico Alvarez
incident.

The New York Times, while also placing their
story on the front page, took a different tack, warning its readers
not to be taken in by Miss Marten’s rhetoric, and not so subtly
reminding them that a century ago another world was taken in by
Herr Hitler’s mesmerizing rhetoric to devastating result.

NBC’s reporter sided with the Los Angeles
Time, and went so far as to express a “Hope for Man.”

CBS, on the other hand, sided with The New
York Times and actually warned people to be “very wary” of Miss
Marten, suggesting that there is something “unholy” (that was the
word used) about her grip on the minds of our youth.

The Washington Post went further than its
competition, and all in the direction of bad. It struck many, both
readers and pundits, that they must have had the story researched
and ready to go well before attending the UCLA lecture, for their
assault upon Miss Marten dug up as many corners of the past that
there were to dig up, all aimed at exposing this fraud of a girl,
and especially reminding its readers about her “Alvarez circus” and
how they country had “convulsed” (yes, that was the word) in the
wake of that.

The Post wrapped up its assault by calling
on the authorities to act responsibly and in the interest of the
mental health of the nation, and to act sooner rather than later,
before it indeed was too late to do anything about this threat to
the nation’s stability (many readers assumed that the word used in
the story’s first draft was ‘security’).

:

The following Monday, the American
Psychiatric Association issued a lengthy statement that in part
seemed to have been a copy of the Washington Post article, but
which then went on to proclaiming Miss Marten a threat to the
mental stability of the nation.

The term most often used by this statement
(which, incidentally had no specific author, but was only signed,
“APA”) was “mentally seductive.”

Not only was Miss Marten’s message—the
implied promise of peace and happiness—seductive, but her delivery
method, her mesmerizing attitude, her “grip” on her audiences, they
all contributed to an alliance of factors that could “well destroy
the harmony of this nation.”

The paper, since it was very much on current
topic, was carried in full by most print media and quoted and
commented on by most television news shows.

The final few paragraphs of the paper were
specifically addressed to parents, and offered advice to those who
did not know how to protect their children from this threat, or who
could not salvage them had they already fallen prey to Miss
Marten’s mental seduction. The first step to take: contact your
doctor, or, should you not have one, contact us and we will refer
you to a specialist. This was followed with several paths of
contact, including toll-free phone, email, websites, and a direct
Mortimer link.

:

On the same day—and many speculated that his
had been knowingly coordinated between the American Psychiatric
Association and Big Pharma—Eli Lily and Pfizer issued a joint
communique to the effect that “Hope without foundation” can be very
seductive—if not addictive, and that it was a clear indication of
the need for proper care and attention of our youth that so many
well-educated young men and women would lap up and swallow this
“hope” indiscriminately.

The communique strongly urged parents,
teachers, community leaders, and, yes, the authorities to shoulder
their respective responsibilities and see to it that any troubled
youth that needed medical attention would be given that attention,
now, not later (when it might be too late).

This warning and plea from Big Pharma got a
surprising amount of airplay, even leading the news on some
stations, especially in the east. The cynics, and there were many
of them and all of them vocal, voiced the opinion that Big Pharma
was looking out for their bottom line, which they felt was being
threatened by Miss Marten.

Other commentators, all with serious faces
gazing into their respective cameras with grave concern, took up
the Big Pharma cause and personally warned their viewers against
this all too real threat to our youth.

One Boston pundit went so far as to wonder
what socialist government, or what subversive group was financing
Ruth Marten, for surely she could not have dreamed up this
out-and-out assault on today’s gullible youth all on her own.

:

“I cannot fault you,” said Ananda. “You’ve
done nothing foolish this time. This is perhaps just what we should
have expected.”

“Still,” said Ruth. “This is—I don’t know
what. This is an outright attack.”

“I believe the cynics are right,” said
Melissa. “You’re getting too close to their sources of profit. Both
the medical folks, and the pharmaceuticals feel threatened. Peace
and harmony have no place in today’s world. They don’t bring anyone
any profit.”

“What should I do?” said Ruth. “Any
suggestions?”

“Stay the course,” said Ananda. “What else
can you do?”

Melissa agreed.

“You think I can wear them down?” said
Ruth.

“Oh, I doubt that,” said Ananda. “They’re
not going to go away. But they may be irrelevant if your message is
the stronger of the two.”

“It is,” said Ruth.

“Of course it is,” said Ananda.

“Over a million views already,” said Melissa
looking up from her computer. Then added, “The UCLA lecture.”

“That is good, isn’t it?” said Ruth.

Melissa nodded. “Sure is.”

“Stay the course,” said Ananda.

::
112 :: (USC)

Both Kristina Medina and Julian Lawson were
invited to her USC lecture the following Friday. Along with Ananda
and Melissa they were escorted to their front row reserved seats by
a very smiley young woman, seemingly all too aware of who her
charges were.

Agent Roth found his own seat in the middle
of the hall, slightly to the left of the stage. From there he had a
good view of the proceedings, and he had successfully tested his
digital audio recorder, which was now already recording.

At ten o’clock precisely, Ruth stepped up to
the podium and tapped the microphones her usual twice. As if that
were the sign—which it might well have been—the lights dimmed and a
soft spotlight found and highlighted her. The room fell silent.
Ruth gazed out at her audience. Long and thoughtfully. Then she
spoke:

“I have long promised to tell you how to
reach the stillness.”

If the room could have gone more quiet, it
would have.

“Today I will keep that promise.”

Again, she paused to survey the gathering.
Then she said:

“Samadhi is a Pali word that we generally
translate as ‘concentration.’ It is formed by the Pali prefix
‘sam,’ meaning ‘together,’ and the Pali root ‘dha,’ meaning ‘to
put, or place, or bring.’

“Samadhi, then, means bringing together. It
means unify. It means collecting the most of the time unruly mind
and bringing it into a steady, undistracted awareness.

“Samadhi means the collecting, the gathering
together, the focusing and integration of the mental flow we call
the mind.