Tempted by Tacos

I remember how impressed everyone was in the 1980s by a group of four travelling teachers invited to our place of worship. In those days, spiritual practices could not be explored on the internet, when, other than books which sometimes contradicted each other or confused more than they enlightened, teachers from various backgrounds and religious orientations were the only source of knowledge.  

When they first disembarked on a Sunday morning from their white minivan with the inspiring logo and inscription on the side, the driver, wearing white practical clothing, emerged first and slid the minivan door wide. 

Two others in white came out, then stood at one side along with the driver. They all watched the doorway as though anticipating the emergence of their spiritual mentor. I will call her Rose.

Coming out of the minivan with dignified grace, Rose, like her companions, wore white with a woven rainbow pendant suspending a large silver ankh at the level of her heart.

“I want one of those,” my favorite teacher murmured nearby. Anything Egyptian fascinated Quincy, since he had been a high priest there in one of his past lives. I resolved to try and find one for his birthday.

Rose smiled, taking her time to look at each of us in turn, then closed her eyes and extended both arms gracefully, palms facing downward as if to get her bearings and make her arrival complete. 

The more sensitive among us agreed that our visitors radiated peace and that the aura of this woman was particularly beautiful. A more grounded student commented that none of them wore any makeup, but someone else suggested that perhaps spiritual people did not need makeup. I felt self-conscious in my lipstick and blusher, so I decided to be a plain Jane for the duration of the week and wondered whether perfume was allowed.

Bringing both palms to prayer position, Rose opened her eyes and said, “Namaste.”

Her companions answered with the same gesture before the rest of us could copy them, but we all responded together with Namaste, signifying that the light in each of us saluted the light shining so brightly in Rose. 

I already felt blessed and was so glad that I had managed to get a week off work from my first ever job so that I could participate in all the classes, lectures, and meditation sessions offered. Not everyone could benefit from all of their offerings due to having mundane jobs to go to or children to look after and so on, but many events attracted almost a full house.

I remember Rose telling us that morning about the importance of purity in the modern world and becoming a vessel for holiness and bringing light to challenge the darkness.

She then explained why they all dressed in white and didn’t use makeup because it was the inner spirit that was important, not the body, though keeping it clean and healthy was vital since it was the earthly vehicle for the soul.

Rose recommended eating healthy foods and exercising, shared some of the joys of living a simple life, then held up for us a selection of holy books, providing the name of them as she went along, including the Bible, the Koran, the Tao de Ching, and the Tibetan Book of the Dead. 

She revealed to us that she and her followers read these holy books every day and did not indulge in reading newspapers, magazines, or novels in particular which only immersed the soul more firmly in non-spiritual concerns. 

I began to consider giving up reading fantasy and science fiction, giving away my dozens of books, not reading any new books by my favourite authors. My Catholic godmother had always wanted me to be a nun, so I toyed with the idea of being a New Age nun instead.

Before the break, she recommended drinking water and avoiding caffeine and sugar. Some people still enjoyed their usual tea or coffee with a cookie or two. Most of us sipped tap water instead and tried to look as if we liked it. I remember seeing someone sneak a chocolate chip cookie when he thought nobody was looking.

When the session finished, when five of us would normally squeeze into one car and ride to the nearest Taco Bell for lunch as a little reward for attending or, in the case of my favourite teacher, delivering spiritual lectures on a Sunday morning when we could have slept late, we conferred on the pavement while other cars exited the parking lot since nothing else was scheduled for a few hours.

“Bananas,” Quincy announced. “We shall not be tempted by Taco Bell.”

Someone laughed, but in the end, because Rose had recommended bananas as one of the most perfect foods, we rode to the nearest grocery store and each selected a bunch. We must have made a very odd sight as we lined up to pay for our bunches of bananas, but far be it from us to worry about being judged by people whose concerns were only mundane.

And so, the seven days of enlightenment unfolded. Big salads were made by those skilled at doing so and brought to share with everyone else. Plenty of bananas made an appearance at every break time, making me think of us all being monkeys living happily in some jungle, where maybe we had, indeed, shared a past life. I wasn’t sure animals counted or not, as opinions differed, but confided my notion with Quincy who grinned and approved of the idea.

On Saturday, Rose invited everyone to put thoughts and emotions into words and speak our truth about how the course correction that she had invited us to participate in had influenced us and whether we had already garnered any beneficial results, reminding us how we each navigated the vast sea of experience though like ocean-going vessels, we could communicate readily if we so desired. 

I was so tongue-tied, being very shy at speaking to more than a handful of people, but I stood up, which we were encouraged to do, and said that I felt much more connected to spirituality. I explained how the bookmarks in my science fiction and fantasy novels had not budged and that I had not turned on the radio or watched television all week. I didn’t mention my failure at adopting any new foods from the health food store. 

To my embarrassment, this generated a little round of applause. I sat back down hastily and listened to the praise that Rose delivered for the definite progress I had made. 

At the end of the amazing week, on Sunday at noon after receiving a powerful final blessing from Rose, we all stood watching as the white minivan with the inspiring logo disappeared down the street.

Now what? Well, Quincy soon suggested that we reprise our trip to get bananas and, though someone groaned, we all piled into the car and off we went. 

“We could go to Taco Bell,” someone muttered in the back seat, “and then get bananas. It’s on our way.”

I remember that reception to this suggestion was mixed.

Soon, Taco Bell came into view. 

To our surprise, a familiar white minivan was parked outside with an even more familiar logo and inscription. Seated in the outside eating area were four people no longer dressed in white. Wearing normal clothing, each one was happily eating whatever Taco Bell provided after their intensive week of teaching about metaphysics and purity and reading only holy books and so on.

We were all, of course, shocked into silence. 

Then Quincy exclaimed, “Flewing Capricorn Moon!” I thought this referred to some astrological phenomenon but was a phrase he turned to when a mundane person might swear.

Laughter and murmured comments filled the car as we drove out of the area. We generally agreed that they could at least have driven farther away before indulging in their earthly desires.

 “So let’s take a vote on whether we go to Wendy’s or Burger King today.”

I can't think of Taco Bell without remembering this incident, so when a friend told me about Taco Tuesday which I had never heard of before, I was right back there, a teenager again.