A couple of years ago I was in Columbia for a meeting across from the Capitol Building. The meeting finished up a little early, but not early enough to get back to my office with any time left in the work day. On Main Street I decided to visit the newsstand. 
In college, a friend introduced me to The Capitol Newsstand, and it instantly became a regular place where I went to poke around in the literature section and through their magazines and journals. Stacks of newspapers from across the nation and a few from other countries lined the floor that made a makeshift aisle between the books and the magazines. I had never been in a bookstore that carried philosophy, political, and law journals much less The Paris Review and other literary publications. The Capitol Newsstand was the part of my introduction to the wider world and a wider awareness of things. It was there that I realized the wider world was accessible to me.
The friend who introduced me to The Capitol Newsstand was a philosophy major, practiced yoga, and meditated. He worked at jazz record store and not only had tons of jazz but also international records and books on Buddhism, Jung, etc. In the early morning, he would go out on his small concrete porch and practice yoga. He told me was meditating. I had never met anyone who did these things and thought only people who wear turbans and live in caves with infinite wisdom actually meditate and do yoga. Oh, and John Lennon might have been the exception to this. Of course he was a guru (Don't worry, I found out later how untrue that is. No offense to anyone.)
I never asked to join him in yoga or meditating. At the time, I was too busy being cool, which basically meant denying my own search for some kind of understanding of my inner life and its connection with the outside world. I ended up blowing him off (or he blew me off, hard to tell) and hoarded the memories of all the knowledge and ideas that surrounded him. I hid from myself the impact he had on me and my own yearning to try meditating and to know about Buddhism. I kept it all underground until after I graduated from college and spent a year and a half in New York walking the city, not making enough money, sponging up all the books and art that I could afford to read and view, and writing poetry.
Once I began reading some philosophy and books by Alan Watts, I created this picture of a community of peace filled meditators with a calm glow in their auras, and the rest of us were fortunate that these people walk the earth. These people knew my friend who played wild jazz with a drum, a trumpet, and a wheezy accordion.
When I found myself back in Salem, South Carolina recovering from the near two year culture shock, flat broke with no job and living with my mom, I began meditating. The first time, I was so scared. No one was there to show me how or to tell me that I was doing it right and that a flood of uncontrollable thoughts and feelings would not hurt me if I sat there for five minutes gazing at a candle. In fact, afterward, I felt refreshed and my perception of inner and outer worlds was clearer.
My visit to the newsstand 15 years later brought all this back. But the newsstand now is almost empty. There are no more journals in the racks, no more philosophy section, no more newspapers except maybe tabloids. At the cash register, they sell cigars and rolling papers. The racks are empty except in one small section that has magazines you can find at a convenience store that brings in its money from beer and malt liquor sales.
If you don't know what I'm talking about, go take a look sometime. I won't tell, promise. But, as I went into the newsstand, I saw on the sidewalk a sign pointing to a meditation center above.
I walked outside and looked at the Capitol Building in plain view just one block ahead before I went up
the stairs to the meditation center. I read on the sign that you can go there on your lunch break for a meditation session. Courses are also offered there. Would he be there? Would his friends be there? The answer is of course not.
Nevertheless, I felt the stairs and the walls swell and contract as I got to the door. I walked in as quiet and unassuming as I possibly could and was greeted by a woman about my age, Michelle Gauthier, after I had scoped out the books on the shelf and peeked into the meditation room.
She came out from a room in the back with a colander full of white fettuccine noodles that she put into a plastic container. She offered me a glass of water, and I felt like a traveler who had just been received into someone's house where it is natural for strangers on a weekday afternoon to come in for a rest.
We chatted for awh
ile. Michelle lived in Boston prior to coming to Columbia and at the time, was the director of the center, the Ganden Mahayana Buddhist Center to be exact. I sat at the kitchen bar and drank the cool water and told her about teaching yoga and my meditation practice. Her cat came up to me and nuzzled my leg. The next thing you know, he lept into my lap and refused for his affection to be rejected in any way. As I petted him, blond cat hair got all over my suit. Michelle apologized for the cat. It was actually very comforting for this cat to love me so immediately and persistently. I felt my day job was not very well connected to the way I am with my yoga practice and with meditation. I took his affection to be an affirmation that somehow what I do in the early hours of morning does seep into the hours of my days where I am with people as a co-worker.
A few months later, Michelle began offering meditation classes in Greenville at North Main Yoga, which is, by the way, a great yoga studio. I attended a class, and she was very practical about it. We sat in meditation for 10 minutes and then she talked to us about anger. Her basic point was that we get angry because something or someone doesn't meet our expectations or we are in a situation that we do not want to be in. So, the question to ask is can you do anything about it? If the answer is yes, there is no reason to be angry because you can do something about it. If the answer is no, again, there is no reason to be angry. If you can't do anything about it, just move on. She also pointed out how ridiculous it is to be angry when faced with stopped traffic or burned dinner. Also, if we stop being angry toward strangers, we make room for compassion to develop.
So, where does all this lead? Well, since my first encounter with a real live yoga practitioner, this way of life has become an everyday activity not only for me, but for a growing community right here in South Carolina. Another thing is that the place where it all started for me has developed along with this growing community. It makes me feel a kind of hope, strength, and serenity all mixed together to see this happening. Also, I have more meditation and meditation-related stories to tell. Maybe after a few more posts on this subject, we will see where it is leading. Also, if you have feedback for me, by all means post!
Stay tuned to the Self....
