Who needs a guru?

Nobody does. Certainly not the variety on public offer.

It is tempting (or perhaps just lazy) to seek someone who claims to “Know”. To have “The Answer”. A cursory search on Amazon will provide you with thousands of authors who will give you the answer if you buy their book. The world is full of wellness retreats and spiritual gurus who suck in money from the gullible in return for a garbled word salad of  fantastical excrement. Sometimes with a dash of “sacred” magic mushroom or gut wrenching ayahuasca added to the mix.

The world is full of thought systems. Attempts to answer the unanswerable.  I am wary of those who believe they have answers, but they are legion. Some wearing a more traditional cloak, a priest of some recognised religion. Some in the garb of charlatanism – the new agers, the modern druids, the purveyors of woo and auric eggs. Who remembers the venerable Betty Shine.

The truth is there is little enough to distinguish all these pedlars of hope and certainty.

But if I had to make a choice, my preference would be for someone who isn’t on the make.

Traditionally a guru is a mentor or guide to those who seek spiritual knowledge. While the word is Sanscrit, the concept is applicable the world over. Many faiths have their gurus, though they may wear a different guise.

I was at the National Gallery in London this week, looking at the newly hung and magnificent collection of medieval and early Renaissance paintings. The overwhelming majority of which depict Christian subjects.

One particular portrait of a monk reached out to me. For all I know he could have been as vile as Rasputin or as drunk as Friar Tuck, but somehow a deep sincerity shone from his face – here was a guru I might have found acceptable. A wise and kindly man living a life of poverty, helping the poor and devoting himself to prayer and good works.  Although for all I know he was one of those who gave the monastic life a bad name and helped to usher in the Reformation.

But my point is twofold.

I suspect if I met the genuine article face to face, I would know. A light would shine, it would be blatantly obvious that here was a man who “Knew”.

And yet I am not at all sure he would have much to teach me. Of course he would be a better person than I. He would be pure in mind and body, a healer of the sick, a man of modesty and humility.

But he would teach by example, and for that I do not need to sit at his feet. I certainly do not need to read or believe his holy books. All I need to know is that here stands a good man.

And that is what spirituality is. To me at least. The material world becomes translucent, the futility of ambition and power wanes and fades in a dark corner. I do not need a guru to tell me what I need to do. The way is blindingly obvious.

But I do perhaps seek his company, his friendship. His goodness.  To bask in the radiance of his obvious decency and begninity.

That is all I need from a wise man, a guru.

The only thought system I need is how to behave, how to think, how to act. And after so many years of thought, I do not need anyone to tell me the answer.

So yes, there are many systems of belief which teach much the same simple message but which have become cluttered with baseless supernatural speculation. You don’t need a guru to tell you all that nonsense.

If you need a guru at all, it is for companionship along the difficult road of life. Preferably someone rather better than you are. More tolerant, kinder, better intentioned, humbler, further along the road of awareness.

I don’t need Betty Shine to tell me about auric eggs. I have no interest in running an off-licence and turning water into wine. I don’t need to wail at Yahweh or bless the Prophet. I don’t need theosophy or the Perennial Philosophy. You can keep Madam Blavatsky.

And if you think about it, you might decide you don’t need gurus either.

Because quite honestly all you need is to go within. To consider life and where you might have gone wrong (or right). To listen in the silence for a voice, likely your own.

If I came across a holy man, I would know what I had found and would be glad of it. He might be discovered in a monastery, a desert. He might be a train driver or a bus conductor. But I would know him when I met him.  Even if I didn’t need to be “taught”, I would still enjoy his company.

So much nonsense spluttered over so many thousands of years. So much violence and greed. So many good ideas twisted and made evil.

Who needs a guru when it is all so simple. If only we could adopt such simplicity, we would need little else to bring peace.

Humility and kindness. Nothing else is really needed. Except a great deal of practice.