“When any of our neighbors were in trouble, Andy was always one of the first to help save them and their farms. He always claimed, ‘to give is to receive,’ and believe me, Janet, throughout my life I’ve seen proof of his words a thousand times.”
“That’s beautiful, Emily,” Janet murmured, then remarked that she had noticed all the trophies displayed in the kitchen. “What’s the story behind them?”
“Those are Andy’s trophies. When he was young, he specialized in breeding Clydesdale horses.”
“I take it by the number of trophies that he had good horses. He must have been very successful.”
“Janet, he had the most beautiful animals you have ever seen. Every one of them was a prize-winner. Andy cared for them as though they were his children. However, after the Second World War horses were gradually replaced by tractors and the Clydesdales became redundant.”
“Oh, that was a shame,” Janet sympathized.
“They meant a lot to him and he was able to keep his three favorites as pets,” Emily said, smiling. She continued her story. “Do you know, Janet, it pleases me no end to see Andy so happy. Since we came home to the family cottage he’s a different man. This is where we belong, on the farm. To us, living here is like our own little bit of heaven. I don’t know if you know this or not, but Andy was born in this very cottage; we lived in it for many years. It was the main farmhouse for more than a century, until the early Fifties, in fact, when we felt the need for more space. That’s when we had the new farmhouse built and moved out of the cottage.”
It was obvious from Emily’s joyful and vibrant demeanor that she and Andy were completely content to be living in their own little dream house again.
I commented on the beauty of their cottage. “I love your living room, it’s so spacious, and the view! It’s the kind of pastoral scene that makes me wish I could paint. I love the look of dormer windows, too. My wife, Norma, would fall in love with your house. I can’t believe this cottage is nearly two hundred years old, Emily, it’s in immaculate condition.”
Emily explained that back in 1951 when they built the main house, she and Andy had had the cottage renovated, inside and out. “We were lucky; every family that ever lived here thought the cottage had a very special feeling to it, and, as you noticed, Eric, every one of them has taken wonderful care of the place.
“When Andy and I lived up in the main farmhouse, nice as it was, it was always our hope to come back some day to retire to our own cottage. That’s why Andy only sold half the farm and let the other half to a tenant. We never thought the renter would leave the cottage to us so soon. When we first let the farm, the renter needed it for his farm help. But as it happened, the help soon went out and bought a house of their own. So it worked out well for everyone concerned.”
Just then, Andy appeared at the door leading to the garden and greeted Janet with a hug. He told us that he had been looking forward to seeing us again and hoped we were enjoying our holiday. For the next while, Emily and Andy kept us entertained with stories about the farm’s history.
Then, after a short lull, I brought up a conversation that Janet and I had had during the flight over, about all of us experiencing individual truths. “We discussed the natural tendency to question and cross-question each other, to delve deeper into each other’s psychological, spiritual, philosophical or political beliefs. I explained to Janet that this was why I went to India, to seek out wise people and find out what they knew. So I was wondering, Andy, have you ever met an enlightened person?”
“I’m afraid not,” he replied.
“When I was in India I had the good fortune to meet quite a few enlightened individuals and some of them were very interesting,” I said. “However, I'm afraid that for some reason none of their wisdom rubbed off on me, regardless of how many questions I asked.”
Andy nodded his agreement. Then he replied, “If I ever did have the good fortune to meet such a person, I would most certainly want to ask questions. But, more importantly Eric, I would listen and savor their answers.”
While I agreed with his words one hundred percent and I knew I should be listening to Andy, I was curious to know more about his philosophy. So I asked, “Andy, do you honestly believe that everyone has mental health within their own being?”
“Yes, that’s the way I see it, Eric, and this inner mental health lies deep in your psyche waiting to be uncovered. It lies beyond the mental activity of personal thought. This knowledge I speak of is sometimes called ‘wisdom.’”
Looking very serious, Janet asked, “Andy, am I hearing correctly? Do you believe that this knowledge and understanding lies within the psyche of everyone? If this is the case, why is it so difficult for us to retrieve it?”
“Why? Because it is hidden in a maze of personal wrong thinking. However, this I can assure you:
“When found, wisdom cleanses the channels of the mind
and acts like a penicillin for the soul.”
Turning to me he said, “Why do you think so many of your friends in India meditated? Were they not trying to uncomplicate their minds and cast away all the unnecessary thoughts that were contaminating their thought systems?
“I’m simply telling you that such knowledge does exist and the trick is to realize that you already know.”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Janet interposed. “Exactly why do you say, ‘We already know’?”
“Because you do,” he replied.
“Is that your answer? ‘Because we do’? ” Janet appealed.
“Yes, that’s all the answer you need—if you can hear beyond the metaphorical words, you just might recognize something that you have long forgotten.
“Again, I suggest that you should look for simplicity and not get caught up in a long drawn-out explanation, or you will only confuse yourself. Just listen."
“You mean listen to you?” I asked.
“Absolutely not. When I say you have to learn to listen, I mean you have to listen to everybody and everything. This listening I am referring to has nothing to do with listening to words. Listening is when your babbling thought system takes a rest, when it stops analysing, and listens with purity of thought.
“Listening is hearing from the Impersonal in absolute neutrality”
Pointing a finger at me, he smiled and told me that I would have to stop trying to intellectually figure out his words if I wanted to understand what the wise people in India had been trying to tell me. I admitted to Andy that he was correct in his assumption that I had probably missed a lot of wisdom by not listening more intently to some of the people I’d met on my Indian tour.
Andy immediately responded, “I doubt that, Eric.”
That startled me. “Why do you say that?” I asked.
“Because no matter how intently you listened, if you listened only to their words, you would have heard very little. As a matter of fact that must be precisely what you did.
“I’m afraid, young man, it just wasn’t your fate to hear when you were in India. Perhaps you were trying too hard and filled your mind with a lot of mixed signals.”
“What do you mean, ‘Trying too hard’?” I asked. “I thought I was supposed to search hard?”
Andy chuckled at my question, then answered, “I guess so, if that’s what you want to believe.”
He didn’t get into a debate with me; he didn’t elaborate on his point of view nor did he try to negate mine. He just sat there and smiled. His eyes sparkled and appeared full of life as if he were trying to tell me something. But I had no idea what in heaven’s name it was! This behavior was both annoying and endearing. Past experience had proved that with Andy, that certain look on his face spelt trouble. I knew he was up to something because of his disinclination to discuss whether or not one should search hard.