I dropped into the bilingual bookstore on calle Jesus last Sarturday afternoon only to browse. A paperback copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance reached out and grabbed me. Unfortunately, I had sufficient pesos in my pocket to cover the purchase price and promptly pissed away those pesos. Actually, I should not say that. I should say, “somewhat fortunately.”

Those of a certain age will recall that in its day this book was an item. In fact there was a stampede to it among the cool and hip right after its publication in 1974.

Let me pause here and offer a bit of interesting trivia to you would-be published authors. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is in the Guinness Book of Records. Among all best selling books, this one was initially rejected by more publishers than any other. It was rejected by 121 publishers before it was eventually published and then promptly ripped off sales of 4 million copies worldwide.

Of course, I refused to read it in the seventies, which illustrates a quirk of mine. When the public flocks to a book or a film, I get stubborn and refuse to read the book or watch the film. Popularity convinces me immediately that the book or movie must be bullshit. This approach has served me well at times and at other times not.

For example, I have never read a Stephen King novel. I have not read The DaVinci Code, although I am not saying that I never will. I have never read The Bridges of Madison County. In these exemplary cases I am next to certain that my approach has served me well.

I have never seen the film entitled The Bridges of Madison County, even though I did audition for a part as an extra in that film during an open casting call on August 9, 1994, in Des Moines, Iowa, when I was still quite pretty. That shot at stardom was a near miss. My little account of my audition was actually published back then. Therefore, I cannot put it up here because it belongs to someone else now.

I lost my train of thought. . . . Oh, yes.

My stubborn approach did not serve me well in the case of this book. I should have read it long ago. It is an entertaining, light philosophical novel. I am approximately half way through it. Robert Pirsig occasionally deploys this or that quaint sounding, dated, hipster phrase from the seventies, but this is not oppressive or distracting. Only amusing in its way.

The reason that I bring this book up is that I stumbled upon wisdom in it a couple of days ago. And by the way, here is my approach with regard to wisdom recognition. When an author has written something with which I agree and that I like, I call it wisdom. When an author has written something with which I disagree and that I do not like, I call it tripe.

This approach has also for the most part served me well with the exception of those few instances when life itself has laid a two by four up side my head and convinced me that what I had previously thought was tripe was actually wisdom or vice versa. The truth is that reading is not my best teacher. Pain is my best teacher.

What I wish to discuss here is clearly wisdom, however. Mr. Pirsig, who is now 82, first makes the point that doctrinal differences among Hinduism, Buddhism, and Taoism are not nearly as important as doctrinal differences among Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. Thus, there are no holy wars in the Orient. He then goes on:

*In all of the Oriental religions great value is placed on the Sanskrit doctrine of Tat tvam asi, “Thou are that,” which asserts that everything you think you are and everything you think you perceive are undivided. To realize fully this lack of division is to become enlightened. [Emphasis mine.]

(I know that "Oriental" is now a term out of fashion, but he must be forgiven for not anticipating that.) Mr. Pirsig follows that up with “[l]ogic presumes a separation of subject from object; therefore logic is not final wisdom.”

This all warms the old solipsist's heart of course. I have always given great credit to Sanskrit doctrine. For years I have said, "Give me Sanskrit doctrine any day of the week." Mr. Pirsig and I both realize, of course, that Sanskrit is a language and not a religion or philosophy. He and I are simply using a kind of shorthand, Sanskrit being the liturgical language of Hinduism and Buddhism.

Once again, Sanskrit doctrine has vindicated me. There have been some who have expressed the opinion that I am the most self-centered, egotistical [person] (substitute an epithet of your own chosing there) that they have ever met in their lives. La Mexicana has expressed an opinion eerily similar to that on a couple of occasions when she was unjustifiably distracted by what were really only minor lapses on my part.

As anyone can understand now, however, I am actually not the asshole that I may appear at first blush to be. This ancient Sanskrit text, "thou are that," merely sheds light from a different angle on the fact that I am only busy paying attention to the thing that counts in the end, myself. By doing so I demonstrate my enlightenment.

I shall now have a simple response ready the next time someone offers the opinion to my face that I am the most self-centered, egotistical [person] that she has ever met in her life, or words to that effect. I shall recall the ancient Sanskrit text, "Thou are that," and respond sagely, "I am that."