Years ago I was involved with a man who was a guru-phile. He was always looking for God in human form, someone to worship and stand in the presence of. Someone to set up little altars for. I didn't share his psychology; my cynicism is like a mothball around the neck, keeping me guru-free. For awhile my boyfriend glommed onto Sai Baba, a goofy orange-robed guru with a 'fro who performed miracles. His miracles--like making great quantities of ash billow out of an empty urn--didn't seem useful to me. If God were to manifest as a human, surely he wouldn't waste his time performing lame magic tricks. Like, who needs ash?
Indeed. Who needs ash?!
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