Authenticity

"In the coming world, they will not ask me: "Why were you not Moses?" They will ask me: "Why were you not Zusya?" ~ Rabbi Zusya

I love this quote. It's one of my favorites. It certainly captures, for me, the notion that we tend to not be present, tend to not simply just be. We have an inner critic that judges us, our actions, and our reactions. Perhaps it is this inner critic that prevents us from being simply ourselves, comfortably authentic.

I have met many people who I would say are comfortably authentic. I remember several years ago when I worked at a small newspaper I had an opportunity to interview a visiting Buddhist monk. I have interviewed a lot of people in my career but this particular interview was unique. I, along with my trusted tape recorder and long list of prepared questions were ushered into a room that had been converted into a temple of sorts. We exchanged awkward hellos.

There wasn't any furniture in the room to sit on so we sat opposite each other on comfortable cushions. There was the largest statue of Buddha I had ever seen in person in the room with us. I remember being amazed by its size and all I could think about for a few minutes was how the heck did they get something that big in such a small room. But I regained my wits, turned on my tape recorder and asked my first question. I don't remember what it was exactly, but I do remember he was somewhat perplexed by it. I surmised that perhaps he didn't understand the question so I asked it from a different angle.

That didn't help. But after a few moments of silence he started to answer the question. Well, at least I think he did. I really don't know because I couldn't understand a word he said. He was speaking English, I think, but his accent was so strong I just couldn't make heads nor tails of it. After he finished I tried another question. The same thing happened.

After the third go around he shifted his position slightly on the cushion and looked down for a moment. It was obvious to both of us that we were not communicating to each other. I turned my tape recorder off. I assumed he would get up and try to find someone who might act as translator. But he did the most wonderful thing instead. He did nothing. He just sat there. He looked at me and smiled and then he looked at the statue, then back to me. I was so amazed at the simplicity of the moment. He was simply being himself; a man so at home with silence that there was no reason to do anything else. Perhaps he thought that since he could not verbally communicate his path to me he would demonstrate it. I will never know for sure.

We sat like that, in silence, occasionally looking at each other, for close to an hour. To this day, even though I had nothing to published except this piece, it's still one of my most favorite 'interviews'.

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