The Silent Teacher

Who may or may not still be alive

“I finally found you.”

The old man turned off the nozzle of the hose he was using to water a small tree sapling. Turning around only slightly, he said softly, “Excuse me.”

Evan swallowed, “Uh… You’re Lucas Winslow, right?”

The old man turned completely towards Evan, “You’ve got the wrong person. I don’t know anyone with that name around here. I suggest you get off my property and go look elsewhere.”

“My name is Evan Ruggles. I’ve been searching for you for the last three months. You completely and utterly changed my life. There are rumors on the internet that you died a couple of years ago but I didn’t believe it. I just had to track you down so that I could thank you.”

The old man rolled his eyes.

“Your writings deeply impacted my life and I thank you for that from the bottom of my heart. But I still have so many questions. I was wondering if I could talk to you for just a little bit. I’ve driven almost two thousand miles to find you.”

The old man dropped the hose, “Listen fella, no one can change you. Only you can!” He pointed at Evan’s chest. “Now I suggest you get in your car, turn around, and drive two thousand miles back home. That’s where all your answers are.”

Evan smiled. He now knew that it was indeed Lucas Winslow that he had finally found.

“Mr. Winslow I truly apologize for bothering you. I’m really sorry but it would mean so, so, so much to me if I could just have ten minutes of your time. That’s all. Then I’ll go. I’m… uh… willing to pay you for your time.”

“Are you calling me a whore?”

“What? No! Oh God no. No. No, sir. I… I just… it’s just that it would mean so much to me. I learned so much from your spiritual teachings as did many others. Please. Just ten minutes of your time.”

“Am I going to have to call the cops?”

“No! Uh… okay, I’ll make you a deal. If you will answer just one question of mine then I promise I will immediately leave. Okay?”

The old man crossed his arms, “Okay, but let’s get this straight. I am NOT Lucas Winslow! I’m just an old fart working in an orchard. I am not some shady new age guru who provides idiots who drive two thousand miles with canned answers while lifting their wallet. But if you want to ask one question of an old orchard farmer and if you promise to get the hell away after that one question then go ahead and ask me one question. I’ll answer to the best of farming ability.”

Evan cleared his throat, “Okay, I promise I’ll leave. I… uh… my question is this; Why did you stop writing and teaching and fake your own death? You were helping so many people then you just abandoned them.”

With his arms still crossed, the old man stepped up to Evan to where their faces were only inches apart, “Now I’m just an old farmer but I’m guessing that is what a true Master does. He eventually cuts the strings and releases his followers, forcing them to look within for answers rather than being dependent on some outside guru to answer all their questions.”

He continued. “There is absolutely nothing a guru can say that hasn’t already been said a million times by a million different gurus. There is no new knowledge or wisdom. Nothing original. All wisdom has been around forever. All gurus do is rearrange words into pretty canned sentences and sell those sentences to his (or her) followers. All the wisdom in those sentences is freely available everywhere you look but most especially inside you. The guru/follower dynamic is a dependent relationship that cannot end until either the guru or the follower breaks it off.”

“A guru doesn’t become a true Master until he (or she) shuts the hell up; until he goes beyond words and falls silent. A true Master teaches by doing absolutely nothing, by saying absolutely nothing. Perhaps this Winslow character became a true Master rather than abandoning the dependent relationships he had with his students. Perhaps there simply was nothing further to say. You can only say the same things over and over for so long.”

“Or maybe he disappeared because he wanted to get away from people who will drive two thousand miles to get answers they can just as easily get by sitting in peaceful meditation next to a babbling brook. Who knows? You’ll have to ask Mr. Winslow. I certainly don’t know.”

The two of them fell into a silence as Evan tried to assimilate what he had just been told.

Then the old man scowled, “You’re not leaving!”

“Oh… uh… yeah. I promised. Okay I’m leaving. Thank you… I think. No, seriously thank you very much.” Evan then turned and began walking towards his car parked on the side of the nearby road.

It was not long before a rock came hurtling through the air landing just a few feet away from Evan.

“You’re not leaving fast enough!” yelled the old man.

Evan broke into a run. As soon as he got into his car a rock pelted his car door. Evan started the car and peeled out, driving away as fast as he could.

Lucas Winslow finished watering the tree sapling then pulled his shovel out of the ground. He began walking back to his shack on the other side of the orchard.

For a brief moment Lucas smiled as he remembered how he had faked his own death. But the smile quickly faded as he realized that if Evan could track him down so could anyone else. There could be more people showing up in his orchard. Obviously he had not done a very good job of disappearing.

And then for a brief moment Lucas felt remorse for having thrown rocks. He had never thrown rocks at anyone before. And then he thought that perhaps having rocks thrown at him might have been the perfect thing to shift Evan’s spiritual journey inward.

Lucas Winslow vigorously shook his head, clearing it of all thoughts. When he got to the shack he put down his shovel and sat in the creaky old rocking chair on the porch. He quickly grew despondent as he wondered if there was any hope left of him ever becoming a true Master in this life.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction.

Here are two more Lucas Winslow Stories:

Here’s another little story: