Gotama the Buddha was a man of peace. He walked through the world as if he owned nothing and needed nothing. His face was the face of a man who had set down his burden so long ago that he had almost forgotten he had ever carried one.

Siddhartha listened to him speak. He watched him move among the monks in the shade of the mango grove. He heard the simple, kind teachings about the four noble truths and the eightfold path. He saw that every word was true.

But when the others knelt to be accepted as disciples — Govinda among them — Siddhartha remained standing.

Venerable one, he said, I will not be your disciple. Your teaching is whole. I believe it. But within your teaching there is one small gap. What you found for yourself, you found by leaving your teachers. You followed no one. Neither will I.

Gotama looked at Siddhartha with kind, searching eyes. Then he smiled — a small, private smile — and said: Go carefully, clever one. Beware of being too clever.

Siddhartha bowed, and went.

What you found for yourself, you found by leaving your teachers.