my friend Gamze is translating into Turkish a poem i wrote called Finding God,
they say prophets lead us to god
but what are the chances?
of finding the right man
when your couchsurfer gets lost
on the way home
and you are
down on the streets
calling out for an Arabic man
She asked a question that goes to the heart of the poem, “Are the right man, the couchsurfer and the man who is lost are the same person or not. How many chances are there to be the same man?”
I wrote back that the chance of finding the right prophet outside ourselves is nil – a lot of people say they know the truth, but if they say this they are actual more deluded than most of us. For actual, the right prophet is inside us – the poem was always about the idea that people who believe in an external god also tend to look for prophets outside themselves, which is on par with trying to find love outside ourselves – a constant stabbing in the dark that’s bound to end in tears.
We all have buddha nature, and it’s our duty to access that nature and live from that space, and the dark we have to go through to get there is not so stabby. Couchsurfing is a good start – i learned more about the Koran from Mohammad in a few days than i’ve learnt about the Bible in 30-odd years, starting with the first word, “Read.”
The word is not God – the word is Read.