We Two Are One

Neti Neti

Rupert's back room on Church Street looked straight onto the harbour. It was right by the sea, so close that the waves lapped the bricks below his window sill.

Inside, a picture of a thin Indian man was propped up on a bookcase. Rupert offered Oswald a glass of water and left him to go fetch it from the kitchen, and while he did so, Oswald took his opportunity to check the booksehlf. He saw:

The Upanishads,

Be As You Are by Ramana Maharshi (edited by David Goodwin),

I Am That by Nisargadatta Maharaj,

Kashmir Shavism by Swami Laskshmanjoo,

and The Book of Secrets by Osho. That was a big orange book. Oswald pulled it from the shelf with two fingers.

"Are you interested in Tantra?" Rupert asked as he came in. He was so quiet, or Oswald's attention was so fixed on the books he hadn't notice the door open. "Sorry, professional habit. I'm a bookseller."

"Ah, very nice."

Rupert sat and looked at him in silence. The seconds grew to a minute. Oswald felt uncomfortable then Rupert asked, "What has brought you here, Oswald?"

Oswald shrugged. "I don't know what's going on."

'In what sense?'

'No sense. My life doesn't make sense. I don't know what this is. What am I?' Oswald gestured around the room.

Rupert nodded. "Common questions.' He steepled his fingers, went silent a while as if in meditation himself then said quietly, 'Before we bcan ask what you are, let us look at what you are not."

"If you think it would help."

"It is a good starting place."

"Fine."

And then they began.

Rupert said, "Consider the sea. The tides come in and out."

"Yes."

"Who makes the tides come in and out?"

"No one. They just do."

"Do you make the tides turn?"

Oswald laughed. "No, of course."

Gulls called outside the window. "The birds—do you make them fly?"

"No. Not that I know of."

"Your hair grows."

"Yes. I need a hair cut." Another nervous laugh as Oswald tugged at his dark locks.

"Do you make your hair grow? Or your nails?"

"Not consciously."

"But you think you do it. It's something you set out to do?"

"No. It just happens."

"Like the tides?"

"I guess."

"Your heart beats. Your gut digests. Do you cause that?"

"Well, I suppose I do."

"How do you do it?"

"Well, I don't know."

"Would it be fairer to say that it just happens?"

"You could say that. I don't set out every morning to make my heart beat."

"Nor regulate your blood pressure, breathe, grow, digest."

"No."

"Who thinks?"