I reread a book, Siddhartha, about a fictional man by the same name who spent his life trying to get to the core of who he was as a man, son, friend, and father.

He was handsome and smart, and as a boy, followed strict meditative practices and believed his life was planned and perfect. But he felt something was missing, so he left and searched.

He joined a group that believed the true answer was to live without earthly pleasures such as clothing, lodging, or money, and to get food from begging. His beautiful body became a skeleton, and he came to believe that by reducing himself to nothing, he would find his true self. But something was missing. So he left and searched.

Along the way, he met Buddha and his multitude of followers. Siddhartha thought maybe this man of holiness could be the true path to himself, but he decided he didn’t need any more knowledge or learning. So, he left and searched.

He went from needing nothing to wanting it all—wealth, exquisite clothing, fine food, and pleasures of the body. He was very successful, but instead of finding himself, he hated himself.

He left the life of abundance, gambling, alcohol, and extravagance, and he walked back into the woods and slept under the stars, by the river.

He felt like a failure. He had tried everything the world offered, but there was still something missing. He had given his all to every possible path, and he still felt unanchored and yearned to find the missing piece.

At the point of suicide, at the river, a small voice inside him said the right word, and he stopped. He sat down, and the all-knowing river, the thing that continually changes yet is always the same, fed Siddhartha what he needed: Himself.

I’ve told you the story in my own words, so take it for what it’s worth. But the old tattered book from decades ago, with notes in the margins and comments shared from a friend who handed it down to me, who received it from another friend, still held a powerful message: To find the answers we yearn for, they are not in our learning and doing; they are in our stillness. We need just to be still and listen.

Siddhartha found his truth in the river.

What is your sacred place where the world goes away, and you feel and feed the hollow space in your spine, chest, or stomach? The place that softens the tension in your shoulders and returns you to yourself.

Siddhartha’s was the river.

I personally think it is a beautiful story to ponder.

Find your place to reflect, ask, and hear.

Until the next time: Live while you live