Pema Shops for Food, too?
I went to the store to get a forgotten Serrano pepper for dinner and returned home with several items, none of which was a pepper. I chalk it up to bumping into Pema Chödrön at the local Natural Grocer’s Market. You don’t have to be familiar with Buddhism or be an exclusive member of Boulder to know who this lovely lady is, but in case you’re unfamiliar I’ll enlighten you… Pema is a Buddhist nun and prolific author who embodies awareness, kindness, and wisdom like nobody’s business. She’s able to break down the teachings of Buddhism into entertaining and easily digestible bites injecting a healthy dose of humor into each concept. She makes me feel smart and spacious and, apparently, flustered. I love this woman. If I could choose my mother I’d absolutely choose my current mother. If I could choose a second mother, without a doubt, hands down, no questions asked I’d choose Pema.
As it were, she’s not my second mother, or at least she didn’t let on at the Natural Grocer’s Market. As I pushed my cart past the homeopathic tincture aisle on my way to buy some bars (not candy bars- those have been psychically outlawed in Boulder along with tobacco cigarettes…I’m talking energy bars) my attention was drawn to a vision of loveliness in crimson and gold robes. As the piped in music came to a screeching halt and the entire contents of the store became a blur, I found myself standing there staring at Pema Chödrön as she read a tincture bottle in slow motion. Boom...love at first sight! I was yanked into her alluring bubble-of-being as tears streamed down my cheeks; I had to touch her. Poor Pema. A Natural Grocers employee also felt the need to touch her before I approached so I waited my turn. As I drew near, hand outstretched, unable to survive one more moment never having touched Pema Chödrön, I said, “Thank you, you’ve changed my life,” or “I love you, mommy,” or something like that.
Regardless of what I said, I was expecting a different reaction from her.
No, I hadn’t signed up for one of her retreats where she undoubtedly tosses enlightened gems of wisdom to her participants left and right. And no, I wasn’t reading one of her illuminating books. And yes, she was just a human being trying to do some shopping. But still, SHE’S PEMA, for crying out loud! She looked up, chuckled, then said, “Goodness, I should shop here more often!” Then immediately looked back down at the item in her wrinkled hand as if I no longer existed.
But I thought that…I was under the impression that…where’s my mommy?
I can take this situation any way I’d like, not much unlike a Choose Your Own Adventure book. I’m immediately sucked down the rabbit hole of my abandonment issues; why didn’t she want to connect with me more, what’s wrong with me, blah, blah blah. Then, without skipping a beat I began blaming her. Sweet, octogenarian Pema; easy for her to be all enlightened and humorous on paper yet such a meany in real life, she’s so human! Finally, I realized that she was just Pema being Pema and she certainly didn’t owe me anything as she did her grocery shopping. Her comment was light and humorous, fitting of my reaction to her.
As I unloaded the contents of my cart onto the check-out counter, pondering my big-deal encounter, the perky cashier asked me if I found everything I needed. Well, let me tell you, missy… “Yes, I found everything I was looking for and then some! I bumped into Pema Chödrön in this here establishment!!”
Perky Cashier: “Who?”
Me: “Whaaa!? Are you from here, like, this planet? She’s only the most well known Buddhist nun in the entire universe and I love her. I really do.”
Perky Cashier: “Great, I’m glad you found what you were looking for.”
Me: “Kind of, I guess.”