The Monk in the Guideboat

Saturday September 2, 2006, 11:15am. Was sitting by the boathouse at
the Lower Lake somehow feeling uncharacteristically at ease with the
world and hopeful, and then the bus rolled in and onto the porch
stepped Robert Thurman. I recognized him inside of about 5 seconds.
We exhanged hellos. It got me fairly buzzing with excitement, though
too shy to acknowlege that I knew who he was and had followed his
thoughts some time ago. Too many of my own thoughts elbowing in all
at once, and not wanting to spoil the candor. Heard him ask if the
club boat they were shoving into the water was a guideboat. Then he
and his wife (Judith I'm guessing, the writer, straight grey hair,
spoke with an accent I couldn't identify) made their way out in the
water. He was pretty hapless with the oars at first, but as they
pulled out in the distance I saw him adopt some coordinated strokes,
both oars at once. Two sons (I think) followed them out in another
boat. Something very momentous about the whole thing for me. It
really brought back in a huge rush all the things I'd been thinking
about when I was reading Thurman, watching his lectures on DVD etc
about 5 or so years ago (or longer?)--like a spore leaping to growth
with the right conditions. Made me want to think here was a real
boddhisatva... Not a day or so earlier I'd been wondering to myself
on the trail whether so and so was a "hungry ghost", or whether I had
become one...