It's the autumn of 1989.
It's the autumn of 1989.
A friend of mine just began a series of short interviews of instructors for the newsletter of one of the centers where I teach. At the conclusion of the interview she said,"I want to thank you for taking the time to do this. I wanted to interview you first because you are our most controversial teacher."
Controversial?
Me? Why? I preach no radical doctrines. I channel no Grand-High Masters, Atlantians or space aliens for public spectacle. I neither teach nor practice any form of black magic, I own no eye-of newt.
"Do you want me to tell you why, honestly?", she asked.
"Of course!"
"First of all there's your name...Master Ho!"
I explained. In Boston I had produced and directed a comedy-troupe. They gave me the name "Ho" when I began to cook Chinese food. The name "Ho" was tacked onto the end of my given name. Within three weeks no one was using my real name anymore, just "Ho"
I remained Ho for three years, then "Thomas" (an entity channeled by my business partner) told me that it was supposed to be "Master Ho". I wasn't about to use that because I knew what people would think: either that I was a prize egotist who was trying to pass himself of as some sort of highly evolved being, or that I was starting my own religion. I wasn't that big of an egotist and I wasn't interested in starting my own religion, have seen what happened to people who did, (mostly they died...mostly at the hands of their own followers!).
Thomas patiently explained that the term "Master", used in the oriental sense, simply meant "teacher", and that every time I signed my name it was an affirmation of what I was supposed to be doing, "Teacher Ho". Still I wouldn't use it.
Then, three weeks later, when I was applying for a checking account for my business, the bank-manager said that I couldn't use "Ho". When I asked why, she said it was because it was just a one-name name.
"But Cher is a one-name name and you'd take her money," I said, "and, for that matter, Lassie is a one-name name and you'd take her money too!" "But look how easy it is to forge your name," she said", "it's just an 'H' and an 'O', so you'll just have to think of something else."
There she sat, fingers hovering over her typewriter keys, waiting for a response. All I could think of was what Thomas had said a few weeks before. I told her what he said.
"Fine!", she said, typing it onto the form...and I've been "Master Ho" ever since, which is really better than "Mister Ho", which doesn't sound right. I could have called myself "Reverend Ho", or "Doctor Ho", (as a minister and Doctor of Divinity) but both are limiting in their inference, and "Doctor Reverend Master Ho" is a doo-dah and sounds stupid:
"Doctor Reverend Master Ho, Doo-dah Doo-dah"
"Then there's the Chinese robes.", continued my writing friend.
For six years of my life I had worked in jackets, ties and white shirts while working in hotels and had sworn that as soon as I could stop I would never wear them again. The robes, actually Chinese happi-coats, are more comfortable, colorful and stylish, but that shouldn't make me weird.
"You're constantly telling jokes."
Fifteen years of radio, television and stage comedy die hard...but who said metaphysics or spirituality had to be somber? A good sense of humor helps to keep one in balance, keeping us from taking ourselves too seriously..
"Well, you are the only teacher to use the term "Magic" in any of your course descriptions.", she continued.
Okay, that may be true, but wait....I teach a four-week course on the history and development of metaphysics which, in all its various historical forms, has been collectively called "magic" for thousands of years. I didn't start that.
"You have a beard and look like a ceremonial magician," she concluded.
I am not particularly partial to, or against, ceremonial magic. It has simply never been my cup of tea. When we start getting down to beards, though, does that make everyone wearing a beard weird? I think not.
The next night I was on the phone with another friend complaining how people think that I am, or what I do, is "weird". On a whim she pulled out her dictionary and looked up the word "weird", and what do you think it said?
Odd? Unusual? Strange? That was the second definition, this is what she saw:
WEIRD (weird) adj. [Scot. weird, fate:]
1. of, relating to, or caused by witchcraft
or supernatural things; mysterious; eerie.
So "weird" meant: having to do with, or pertaining to, the supernatural or witchcraft...in essence, what we today call metaphysical or new-age studies!
Suddenly it hit me! It was my job to be "weird", I was expected to be "weird", I was being paid to be as "weird" as I could be!! Now, when people tell me I'm "weird", instead of getting upset, I simply say to them,
"Yes, but that's because I'm a professional...and you need to look up the meaning of the word "weird"."
That gets some pretty weird looks!
Or should that be "strange"?
