There is a saying, or koan, or book title, or something, that goes "If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him." At least I know I've heard that someplace, and as it was explained to me, it meant that any Buddha you might meet is not the true Buddha and hence will only distract you from your path to enlightenment.
I never expected to meet the Buddha myself, however, particularly since I'm not Buddhist. But today, at Target, while pricing baby stuff (had to get the requisite baby reference in there somewhere), I did.
I didn't feel any closer to enlightenment, though. I did feel closer to bemusement however. And bemusement is probably as close to nirvana as I'll ever attain anyway.
It didn't take even a cursory knowledge of the Four Noble Truths or even a moment of meditation or study to realize that the Buddha I met was not the true Buddha. For one thing, I seriously doubt that it is possible to purchase the true Buddha. Nor would I expect to find the true Buddha, in several different forms, crowded onto a shelf at Target with a bunch of other "eastern"-looking home decor items.
The Buddha(s) I met today did cause me to wonder however: what does the Buddha mean to people who would buy a little statue of him at Target? How would I feel if I saw a bunch of crosses, communion sets, or other Christian paraphernalia crowded onto Target shelves with the scented candles and knick-knacks? And why would this bother me so much more than the vast quantity of Christian tzotchkes for sale at Christian bookstores and such?
I made no attempt to "kill" this false Buddha, thinking this might be a bit presumptuous me as a non-Buddhist. Also, I am morally and constitutionally opposed to making a scene in any way. It's an occupational hazard of being from the center of the country. If I did meet the Buddha on the road, I'd probably say hi and make some comment about the weather.
On the way out, I noticed along with some other kinds of trail mix a "Zen" variety, causing me to muse upon the ease with which it would be possible to suffuse every aspect of one's life with some weird version of the of a religion. And why Buddhism, of all potential world religions to tap? If one could answer that question, one would know a lot more about what the heck is going on in this country.
Thought the first: Aaaaa!: I paid one of my rare trips to the mall today and was quite alarmed, upon reaching the top of an escalator, to find myself surrounded by Christmas trees. I have to admire their restraint: Christmas stuff was out in August last year. But for pity's sake: who shops for Christmas trees in early September? I'm still wearing summer clothes and struggling with my conscience about turning on the a/c. Fact: Struggles with one's conscience can be much more comfy when the a/c is on.
Thought the second: Pink: I never thought I'd be one to dress our daughter up all frilly. And in fact, until today, I'd only bought her one outfit myself: a onesie that says "Tax Deduction" on the front. What a sentimental mom. The generosity of family and friends have loaded our daughter up, well before she has need of any clothing, with all sorts of incredibly cute items, some frilly, some not. I have to say I'm looking forward to dressing her up in all of them, and I'm extremely happy that she has some incredibly cute, pink, flowery, frilly items in which she will probably be photographed an awful lot. Today, I bought our baby a winter coat, and decided not to go with the pink, but rather with the white. Because what could be more practical for a newborn baby than white?
(We've already remarked on the fact that if the ultrasound people were wrong and Baby turns out to be a boy, he's just going to have to wear the pink outfits anyway. We got a San Diego Chargers blanket from Andy's parents, in which we can wrap him so he can save face when looking over his baby pictures in the future.)
Thought the third: oooooof: I've reached That Phase. The phase of pregnancy at which my discomfort level is starting to outweigh the ease with which I can take care of the baby while she's getting all her sustenance from me (with no fussing). Trying to get up, especially from a lying-down position, is getting to be an epic endeavor. So is trying to find a comfortable position in which to sleep. Trying to get out of a car is downright embarrassing in public. I'm outgrowing my maternity clothes, and when strangers comment that I look like I'm almost due, they're doing it with increasingly worried expressions on their faces. I'm looking forward to once again being a normal size, and more important, a normal shape: I feel like some fundamental law of gravity has shifted and I'm about to sprawl forward on my face at any second. Wheee!