On Masters

There is an islamic center near my home that has the words: Happiness is submission to God painted in very large letters on the wall. There was a time many years ago when the word submission was changed to another word — a less demanding term, like serving, weak enough to not bother the surrounding community. It was later changed back to submission.

For most peoples the concept of submission is frightening. We go through our lives trying to carve out a niche of individual identity for ourselves. Indeed, if we do not, we will remain immature and self-centered beings in the extreme. We must develop as individuals, but we must also submit to the infinite. Those with even a passing familiarity with the mystical will recognize the embedded contradiction that is the hallmark of a mystic truth. Our individuality can only truly blossom in complete submission to the beloved.


In the Tibetan, Sikh and Hindu traditions, among others, there is a concept of deep obedience to your guru. This concept is nearly as frightening as submission to the divine. What is this submission all about?

Let me take it from the other direction. When a mystic accepts you as a student, your actions become his responsibility. In the very fabric of the universe, your heart is bound to the master. His meditations directly effect your life. He will rarely tell you about this, but I want you to understand. The master alters your reality. It is a huge burden, for the master must continue to keep your heart held gently to his, your fate is, in good measure, in his hands.

Prayer, when done correctly, which very few people do, has this same effect. The up-side is that the person praying does not assume the burden of the subject of their prayer. The master/student relationship is very different from the prayerful connection.

The guru (roughly: bringer of light) bears the burdens of your soul because his realization of the divine is a little more complete. When we see the nature of reality, we become naturally obligated to aid others to see it. In ch'an (zen) they refer to it as selling water by the river, in sufism, as selling water by the fountain. The guru, master, roshi, sensei is not looking to do anything greater than help you to wake to that which is in front of you.

So why the need to submit to the guru? A quick look at the Tibetan path, and you will find a thousand reasons. What it amounts to is this: it is very difficult. The ego does not like to do what is difficult. The struggle to submit to the master, not to mention the divine, actually prepares the mind and the soul to see the reality, to hear and comprehend the teachings. That's it. The guru is not magical. He understands better the path, and will try to guide you. Your submission to his will is a significant part of your preparation to see the divine.

Not to put too fine a point on it. The master is not a special being, innately. He is special because of his experiential understanding. He is special because he has reached out and pulled you out of the ocean, wiped the seaweed from your face, and holds you close, like a lover, waiting for your eyes to open.

Finally, in answer to a common question. There are many masters in the world. They are right for you if they are right for you. They are human and most are limited, though you may never surpass their understanding (you are growing, they are growing, it can be hard to catch up). Some masters you will surpass — any master, any teacher, any parent, could hope for no less from you.

Your relationship with them may be long, or it may be short. It may be intimate, up to and including physical intimacy, or it may be formal. Their love for you may be that of a parent, a friend or a lover, but in the case of an authentic master, true love will always be present.