Birthday Buddha

A few weeks before my birthday, a girlfriend and I were out browsing the antique stores. There are a few favorites, one being the Oddemporium. Packed full of oddities both new and old, the Oddemporium has an amazing collection of vintage jewelry, specializing in silver and unique pieces. I’ve spend many an hour trying on ring after ring, and this day was no exception.

Nothing was really jumping out at me, until we were just getting ready to leave and the sales person moved a black, velvet tray to reveal a large, stunning, sterling silver Buddha ring. I had to try it on. While a little big for the ring or pointer finger on my left had, it seemed made for the middle finger. What it wasn’t made for was my wallet. Being approximately an inch long and solid, this gorgeous, hefty ring came with a heft price tag. Sadly, I gave Buddha back.

Over the next few days, however, I couldn’t stop thinking about the ring. Thoughts of it would pop into my head randomly. After three days of this, I decided to see if they would still honor the discount they had offered me over the weekend. I would then inform my family that they didn’t need to buy my any birthday presents if they just wanted to contribute to the ring, instead.

Armed with my credit card and a plan, I entered Oddemporium on a high note, which was shortly deflated as I was informed that a previous employee had been in, loved the ring, and purchased it for their girlfriend. So I spent 30 minutes looking at consolation rings, then went home empty handed, berating myself for not just purchasing the ring the first time I saw it. My girlfriend wisely stated, “If it was meant to be yours, it would still have been there.” She’s wise like that.

Time went on (ok, actually just a few weeks passed) and it was my birthday dinner. Giving presents over champagne, my brother hands over this small gift bag, mumbling something out it “not being a big deal” (he’s not one for shows of emotion). Excited to see what he got me, I gently opened the bag to discover my gorgeous, hefty Buddha ring. After a few moments of staring at it in disbelief, I burst into tears. It was the most thoughtful gift, and I was moved beyond words.

How did this come to be, you ask? Let’s rewind to the Saturday, a few week previous, when I first became enthralled. That night, my brother, his wife, and I were playing poker with our poker group, and I shared the story of the afternoon and the amazing ring I decided not to purchase. The next day, my brother and his wife went into every antique store along Broadway’s “antique row,” looking for the ring, to no avail. They had one more shop to go before they called it quits—the Oddemporium—where they found my ring, purchased it (I hope at a discount!) and kept it a secret for two weeks at poker!

I guess it was meant to be mine all along.

For anyone who knows the basics of Buddhism, you will see the irony in this story. The Second Noble Truth of Buddhism is that suffering is caused by desire and grasping. Which I was clearly demonstrating in my desire and grasping for, of all things, a Buddha ring. And while I’m fascinated by Buddha and Buddhism, I don’t regret my desire for the ring, nor the fact that it’s sitting on my finger and bringing me a little peace of mind when I reflect on it. Alas, I have a long way to go to be enlightened.

Suffering is caused by desire and grasping.