Bo Yin Ra

He was a tiny man, with a toothless grin which could easily make New Yorkers by friendly, trusting, compassionate and loving. Now that’s a miracle worth seeing! Somehow Bo Yin Ra ignited joy and laughter everywhere. He may have been only 5 feet 2 inches high, but his energy and joie de vivre were infectious, inexhaustible and radiant like the shining sun on a gorgeous spring day. He was part Tibetan, part Korean, part Irish, part, Italian, part Romany Gypsy, and whole human being.

He owned this tiny fortune cookie shop, in, of all places, the financial district in San Francisco. And he also sold all kinds of noodles and teas. And he had many regulars, people who visited his oasis in the midst of the endless noise and the tiresome city. It was a very small shop, cozy and informal to say the least. He had an old rug from Afghanistan on the floor, frayed but an interesting weave, looking like an otherworldly galaxy, with splashing colors like a Monet transformed into the wild cloth on which endless dreams of a people are inscribed. And he had quotations from all cultures all over the walls. People loved to read them for they gave a very different slant to the ordinary and encrusted clichés most of us live by. Many were paraphrases of well-known sayings, with a twist which made an ordinary lemon into nothing but real lemonade. And his fortune cookies were a trip. Who would expect to open a fortune cookie and read Einstein, then Jesus, then Aurobindo, then Boz Scaggs, then Timothy Leary and then a line from an old and great Moody Blues song?

Little Bo Yin Ra was a very quiet man unless someone would ask him a question, then the dance would begin. First he would smile and nod slowly. Then he’d laugh, then he’d hug the person. At first people would be offended, but Bo Yin Ra’s sincerity and affection would save the day. And then he would answer cryptically not only answering the question but undermining it in such a way as to change the questioner’s assumptions and broaden their perspective. And this part Tibetan, part Korean, part Irish, part Italian, part Romany Gypsy, would speak surprisingly well, thoughtfully with a slight though indistinguishable accent. He might say “Your question is excellent, really quite extraordinary, actually perfect and endlessly fascinating. Yes, brilliant.”

Imagine the scene. With this kind of response, the question had become a distant echo and what was left was a room filled with laughter and a friendliness which was the answer to all questions, real or imagined. For the key to life is to know we are loved.

For Bo Yin Ra knew that all beings seek happiness only and he had found his long, long ago. He had discovered that complete gratefulness, here and now, always brought this joyous feeling to himself, and so he practiced only the art and science called radical amazement. It was very contagious. Even his noodles seemed happy and how can a noodle be happy? As Bo Yin Ra might say: “Use your noodle and you might find out.” His sense of humor was outrageous, to say the least. People would laugh and laugh in his little shop and he would smile and only say “Good. Very good. Actually excellent. No outstanding! Yes, fabulous.” And people would just go bonkers because he loved them and simply shared some of the moments of his life with them totally freely. One of his favorite fortune cookies was simply the one that said: “This is it.” People would ask him why he seemed to like that one especially and he would smile, laugh, look deeply into the person’s eyes, and say: “Because this is it.” And again they would roar with laughter. It’s like a lot of things in life, you had to be there to appreciate the exquisite timing of it all. The facial expressions of Bo Yin Ra had to be seem to be believed. He was a natural born mime.

Behind it all was his love of live and total acceptance of people exactly as they were. He didn’t try to change anyone. He saw life as a perfect and unfolding parade of characters, situations, and changes marching toward the Eternal. And he knew that only the Eternal knew its purposes and they were simply unknowable to the infinite mind. Therefore he was simply grateful for the day, the moment, and the situation. Only NOW was his concern and he wasn’t overly concerned. So he celebrated life with constancy. And his tea was superb and very unusual. It had the soft fragrance of wildflowers in flourishing meadows and people felt very well when they would drink a cup a day regularly. He had it imported from a factory in Italy. Some of his Romany Gypsy cousins combined rare flowers which they felt affected the human body in a special healing way. They know some of nature’s secrets.

Bo Yin Ra knew great joy, he knew acceptance, he knew noodles, and this wonderful tea. He knew his fortune cookies and he knew that this is it. He traveled very, very lightly in this world and he left it a far better place. He is still smiling somewhere on the other side of time and many, many people miss him. And yet they smile when they think of him. And they become their very best selves when they feel his presence, and therefore his legacy is unending. People like him are worth far more than their weight in gold.

He was a tiny man, with a toothless grin which could easily make New Yorkers friendly, trusting, compassionate and loving. Now that’s a miracle worth seeing. Somehow Bo Yin Ra ignited joy and laughter everywhere. He may have been only 5 feet 2 inches high, but his energy and joi de vivre were infectious, inexhaustible and radiant like the shining sun on a gorgeous spring day. He was part Tibetan, part Korean, part Irish, part Italian, part Romany Gypsy and whole human being.

From: Sacred Stories For Remembrance, First Edition, October 1995, Stories and Poems, Richard J. Brier