It had been a long day on the road for me. I'm somewhere in New York state looking for a place to pull over and rest my tired eyes. I see an exit sign with the appropriate advertisement next to it and take the exit without caring what café, restaurant or hole in the wall I might find myself in. The exit ramp is long and sinuous and I feel impatient to get off the road for awhile. When I get to the end of the ramp, I have to turn right to follow the roadside adverstisement for Doug's Dinner Bucket. I'm not happy to note that Doug's is not at the end of the ramp. I step hard on the gas. I don't see the Diner yet. It's more than a couple miles down the road and at the speed I'm going, it's quickly too late to turn back without feeling like I've wasted time and gas. I hope Doug's is worth it. At least, I'll drink the coffee. Not matter how bad it is.
Doug's Dinner Bucket doesn't look all that promising as I pull into its small gravel parking lot. Since it's small, and back from the road in the trees, I almost whipped past it. This neck of the woods doesn't look like it has much dining opportunities. There is a gas station next to Doug's and I had passed some farms along the way but otherwise, the region is wooded, dark and gives off a feeling of rustic loneliness. Normally I like quiet solitude but right now, it just leaves me feeling empty. Maybe I'll feel better once I get something in my stomach. Maybe it's only my stomach that's feeling empty.
I walk into Doug's and see that it is a typical small diner with tables and a bar. It's pretty empty at this hour. There is a smell of fried grease in the air. It could be chicken. It might be burgers. I don't think there is a dress code or a need to wait to be seated. I head immediately for the bar. I like sitting at the bar in restaurants when I'm alone because other people sometimes join you. There is an old guy already at the bar. So not to seem like I'm invading his space, I don't sit right next to him. I choose the bar stool that is one away from his. I meet his glance and nod a greeting.
I look around for a waitress, a menu, and all the other things that one usually looks for after sitting down in a greasy spoon diner. I rest my elbows on the counter and note that it is clean. There is a menu stuffed between the salt and pepper shakers and napkin holder in front of me. I yank it out and unfold it. It has the typical fanfare of burgers, sandwiches and all day breakfast. I'm not sure yet about the quality of this place so I just say "coffee" when the waitress comes over. I glance over to the old guy to see what he may be eating.
He has a cat on his lap and is spooning sugar into his cup of coffee. He is slowly stirring it when he catches me looking at him. He strokes the cat's black fur and says, "This contact is illusory. The cat and I are separated as though by a pane of glass, because man lives in time, in successiveness, while the magical animal lives in the present, in the eternity of the instant."
My first thought is that he is loco. I'm wary of nut cases. I'm from a big city where people are often panhandled by unstable people while waiting at the bus stop. My policy is to mumble a refusal and drop eye contact. It usually works. Once the panhandler was an angry type who must have thought I had mumbled an insult instead. He took a swing at me and knocked off my glasses. He ran away before anyone could react. There was no damage. Now I'm just much more wary of anyone who doesn't seem completely in rooted our shared reality.
Here, I've ordered a cup of coffee and I'm invested in staying. I look at the guy calmly to try to measure his vibes. He is calm. Good sign. It's the angry locos to watch out for. He's probably only irritating. I pointedly ignore his philosophique statement. "Hi, how are you? Is the food good here?" I ask him. "Yes, as good as any place when you're hungry". He replies with a gentle smile. I decide he's okay. I look at the cat, and want to stroke behind its ears. "Nice cat" I say. I've always loved cats. I'm almost tempted to joke and say I hope his siblings aren't on the menu, but I keep that to myself and smile instead at my private joke. The guy smiles too as if he also has his own private joke or knows the one I was just thinking.
"Each moment seems lost when the next one begins. We live in a never ending succession of lost time which seperates us from the true reality of the eternal instant which is only lost to us because we refuse to live in it", the old guy states with calm assurance. "Hmmm", I say more to myself then to him. I'm giving what this guy says some thought because he seems nice and because it's nice to talk to someone at the end of a long day on the road by myself. "That sounds familiar", I finally say, "it sounds a bit like buddism or something like it." I'm remembering a book I read a long time regarding Zen Buddism. I remember being very much impressed by it, as well as a bit baffled. "What does it mean to live completely in the moment?" I ask. "It's pretty hard not to think about the past or the future.".
"Our thoughts of the past or the future", he begins, "are neither in the past nor in the future, but always in the present. Much of what we think is real is only the thoughts in our head that pass like clouds in front of a bright full moon which are to be forgotten once we release them from the importance we give them". "Ah", I reply, "so if we don't attach importance to what bothers us, we will be happier." "Peace can only be obtained by releasing ourselves from our attachments", says the old guy.
This all sounds so familiar to me. I've read and heard of it before. This guy is not a nutball, but a buddist. Lightheartedly, I smile and reply, "yes master, and how can we find the shining path to enlightment?". The guy returns my smile goodnaturedly, and says, "You know the way already Tom. You only have to make the choice to follow it and the willingness to continue your path once chosen".
My lighthearted smile freezes on my face as I try to think how on earth he could know my name. Before I can respond, block spots swirl before my eyes making a wave of dizziness pass over me. I lose focus on my surroundings and a numbness overcomes my body. It seems like only a split second when I begin to regain my senses and as if I'm awaking from sleep, I begin to refocus on what is around me.
There are flashing lights and voices murmuring. I have a sense of disbelief and disorientation when I begin to realize that I'm lying on my back being transported by four people hovering over me. One of them has his face over me telling me that everything is going to be all right. I try to say "I don't understand. Wasn't I just in a diner?" "Don't try to talk", the face says to me.
I turn my head to one side as they load me into an ambulance. What I see only confuses me more. I see the back end of my car poking up from a ditch at the side of the road. The bumber is crumped and one taillight is broken out. I recognize this wreck as my car by the license plate number that I can still read even though it is upside down. My field of vision dims again as I wonder what happened to the old guy. I hear a voice saying "We're losing him" as I drift off. A feeling of warmth and well-being invades me as a bright light shines before my eyes, but strangely, it doesn't blind me. I smile to myself as I joke privately that maybe this is my shining path to enlightenment. My last thought just before the light engulfs me is "maybe I'll meet the old guy".
