Once after an especially stressful day at school I took to driving randomly through my area. I do that sometimes to calm my nerves a bit; I just wander, only while driving. I recommend it unless you are in an unsafe area.

Anyways so as I drove/wandered seething about my stupid homework and what this bitch at school had had the nerve to say to me I found myself hopelessly entombed in the dark heart of the urban wilderness. Basically I was lost.

My stress-free wander turned into a rage filled bitch fest. It was already 9 o'clock and I was stuck somewhere in suburbia with nothing to guide me but my wits. Added to that was my dead cell phone and the fact that I had just taken a local map out of my car three days prior. I was feeling pretty stupid about then, but pretty mad too.

"^&^&^$%$&^%^&%&^%^$!" I cried vigorously. "And *&^&*$*&$^!" I added eloquently.

After about twenty minutes of pretty much random turns in an attempt to get anywhere I came to an odd road that went up a hill with no houses on either side. As I approached the top of the hill I saw a large building of odd features. It had an eastern-styled porch in its front that was lit with small paper lamps that gave out orange light. There were wind socks and chimes hanging from the roof of the porch that swung gently in the wind. By far the oddest features were the colossal Buddha statues that lined the perimeter of the parking lot.

Before I really realized it I had parked and stepped out of my car. The lights over the porch had the effect on me that I suppose lights do on moths. I walked thoughtlessly towards them and found myself sidetracked by a wind sock of a colorful fish, forgetting my problems.

I gently touched the material and found it to be silky, odd for a wind sock. Each colored scale had been painstakingly painted, it seemed by hand. As I pondered this mystery I heard a soft voice behind me.

"We made those ourselves. Do you like them?"

I turned around, surprised and a little guilty, to face the speaker. He was an elderly, bald Asian man wearing traditional Buddhist robes of a teacher. He was very short but his eyes had a sort of genuine kindness that I had never seen before in western society.

"Yes, I do," I said finally.

He smiled and said: "You see I come outside to enjoy the night and I am graced by a visitor."

He offered me a cup of hot water, which I graciously took and brought out two chairs into the warm night. He told me of his life and how he came to exist in this out of place Buddhist temple in the heart of suburbia. I was touched by his kindness in how he spoke of everyone he had met along the way. He had to ask me for a few words in English, explaining that he was new at the language. I gladly helped him out.

Soon the conversation turned to Buddhism. We discussed the ideas of eastern thought, or I discussed the ideas of eastern thought. Looking back I basically was blurting everything I had learned in school, maybe looking to this man for something new, some better idea. He spoke little and let me drivel away.

About 5 minutes into said driveling a large mosquito began buzzing recklessly around my head. I kept talking, trying to swat it away. Realizing the futility of taking my blood, the mosquito flew instead to the Buddhist. He held out his hand and it landed lightly on the tip of his pointer finger. I paused.

"What is this called?" He asked.

"It's a mosquito," I said. "They drink blood."

"Oh," the Buddhist said, not moving.

I assumed he didn't hear me. I spoke louder. "They drink blood!"

He looked at me and smiled, then said. "I have many gallons of blood; I shall let this mosquito have his fill tonight."

Disclaimer I am not a Buddhist, nor do I ask anyone to become one unless they really want to. What I really got out of this experience I had was that we should all look at life like this man did, not necessarily follow his religion. Just my thoughts.