July 2007 | Life, the Universe and Everything
When the Student is Ready
By Jean-Claude Gerard Koven
It is said that when the student is ready, the master appears. This adage is usually associated with going to India to sit at the feet of some swami-ji who speaks in parables. And certainly, I’ve met countless disciples who waft through life inhaling the intoxicating wisdom of their manifested master. I’ve always been left wondering when I would find my one great sage.
Looking back over my wanderings through the metaphysical maze, however, I see that innumerable teachers have guided my journey. Unfortunately, I was so married to a certain model of what a master was that I failed to recognize mine along the way. The fact is we all have gurus; it’s just that most of them aren’t obvious. They don’t have Sanskrit names, speak with a subcontinental lilt, or wear flowing robes. They appear ordinary in every way, yet turn out to be great teachers.
There is one person who has truly become my guru. His name is Robin Willner — although everyone calls him Lefty — and he’s ranked as one of the world’s top tennis players in his age bracket. In a year he’ll be competing with octogenarians, but over the course of his long career, he played (and often beat) some of the greatest names in professional tennis: Pancho Gonzales, Bobby Riggs and Gardnar Mulloy, to name a few.
Twice a week, Lefty and I meet on the tennis court and hit a few. Our lessons have a curious rhythm: we rally a bit, then approach the net to talk. Lefty almost never discusses the mechanics of the swing. He thinks such clichés as “keep your eye on the ball” and “follow through” are as misleading as “when the student is ready.” He relegates hitting the ball to secondary importance, akin to having one’s focus on the destination rather than the journey. In fact, when we talk, the topic is rarely tennis. Usually we discuss the events of the day or challenges we’re both facing. Yet in this universe, in which all things are connected by zero degrees of separation, everything is about tennis. The game is never an isolated experience. It is one pixel in the vast hologram of existence, a metaphor for everything else in life.
Lefty has an extraordinary ability to hit balls that come at him with blinding speed. He hits every shot with the same graceful motion, drawing the admiration of spectators. Everyone wants to emulate Lefty. I’m no different. Except I don’t just want to hit a tennis ball like he does, I want to live life as he does. If I can do that, the tennis will come.
Lefty is one of those people who says what he means and means what he says. When he makes an appointment, you can set your watch by his arrival. He doesn’t speak in politically correct terms, he just tells it like it is. Last night he revealed the secret of his life-long philosophy, which also makes his tennis strokes so maddeningly pure: moving straight through it. Whatever the circumstance, don’t be thrown by how hard life’s events come at you — just move through them.
I knew that when I finally learned to move straight through the ball, my life would change. I would discard my need to tiptoe around the beliefs and sensitivities of others, surrendering my power in the process. I, like Lefty, would have the courage to tell it like it really is.
Last night Lefty said I moved straight through about sixty balls. I could feel the difference — without my hitting them harder, the shots went faster. I created the time to make a complete move gracefully — and the ball knew it.
I’m glad I was able to recognize Lefty as my teacher, even without the flowing robes or the clipped accent. I’m very blessed to count such a remarkable being among my true friends. I am ready, and the master has never been late. Not even once.
Jean-Claude Gerard Koven is a writer and speaker based in Rancho Mirage, CA. He is a weekly columnist for the UPI Religion and Spirituality Forum and the author of Going Deeper: How to Make Sense of Your Life When Your Life Makes No Sense.
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