Homecoming

Sailing to Byzantium, William Butler Yeats

. . .
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium. . . .

This is not a doctrinaire story but a riddle. Good doctrine it is seamless. A riddle contains a hole in it through which the truth flows. In the riddle of this story lies the innocence of those characters that are described herein. Otherwise it seems to me that my every encounter was brought to me by the very people whose speech and acts which are recorded here in full cognizance of what they are doing. We seemed to be seekers of the truth yet somewhere we have fallen seriously short of our own proclamation and have entered deeply into a confusing and painful mire. It may happen that the truth becomes our enemy because we cannot change or because we will not grow. We cannot face the pain of admitting to consciousness the very truth of our existence.

This is my story..

In the struggle against the truth we are redeemed by it. It is so because the truth must remain true, and in struggling we remain with it as truth. In the same way Raavan of the Ramayan is liberated by Raam. He becomes self realized in the end even though he dies for it. Or better, since Raavana was scarcely a deserving soul, St. Paul in his early years chasing after the Christ and being knocked of his horse and blinded, only later to be revived and become one of the great disciples. And perhaps that is the reason for our every act - to become the very truth that we may habitually avoid. Herein, it is we the readers of our own fate, which we must enter in order to redeem the fallen, ourselves. Nothing may be said of anyone here which the members of their community or class which they represent could not have said. Just as many members of this theater have alliances and within the territories they hold (worlds within our world), so too will the readers find themselves agreeing with one party and then another.

I don't think that there are marriages made in heaven but that it is up to couples to make their relationship divine. It may be true that some couples seem predestined for one another, but as Jung points out relationships are mostly founded upon the deep unconscious, the dance of archetypes and memories, and link between lovers formed by the power of attraction, pulling even though  barriers of time and space - through the superconscious (Jung psychoid level). From a reincarnation point of view we must ask ourselves how it would be that the karmas are formed to make such spiritual relationships. Much experience goes into one good relationship, and many good relationships go into great one. This is equivalent to the maturity of the society, its evolution, and of the individuals involved. A relationship which includes the body but not the soul cannot be great. Great relationships are made with great human beings and this will depend on making one self great, through concentration on unity and harmony (age after age after age, body after body after body.) Wherever a great marriage is made it is made on the same basis as the love which we had from the beginning. This is the love which the first wave, the creation, has for the Supreme being from which it rose, the rock of all existence. It is the divine love which flows in us when we make the great marriage. Even then only the soul is eternal and the body upon which relationship depends does not last forever. That is why we like to believe that we have entered into vows of holy matrimony, that love may endure beyond the sensual.

The Conference of the Birds, A Sufi Fable, Another Fool by Farrid-Din Attar pg. 82.

A Sufi, an idiot of God, was tormented by children who threw stones at him. At last he took refuge in a corner of a building. But at that moment it began to hail and the hail-stones came through an opening of the skylight and fell on his head. The man took hail for pebbles and began to stretch out his tongue and insult the children, whom he imagined were throwing them, for the house was dark. At length he discovered that the pebbles were only hailstones, and he was sorry and prayed. "O God, it was because the house was dark that I sinned with my tongue."

"If you understand the motives of those who live in darkness, you will no doubt forgive them."

I didn't do any of this. I am just part of a show directed from above. It is a play directed from beyond (which is the self or One of all). I am the recorder of god's script from his grand Leela. It is our story. We are all players in the Lord's great play of consciousness.

I came to Victoria Village with some points to resolve for myself: fundamental disbelief about 'god in history', the question about marriage sex and god; self realization and monotheism; nuclear fears and apocalypse

I have been into the Sophia period where I expressed my feelings toward woman through the deity and attempted to free myself of desire or redirect that desire toward higher consciousness. It was not progressing well so I resolved that I should definitely have a steady relationship, and probably marriage would be the best thing to do. It would be a marriage if I could ever find someone to go on the path of self realization with me.

Thematically the three distinct spheres of history, philosophy, religion and myth, and the yogic Saddhana resolve into one line. I feel that the line of myth and history merge together.

As we approach Self-Realization we begin to accept that people love you for the sake of that Self-Realization and not for your own sake alone. As you love the spirit they love the spirit in you. So you can no longer accept it as we usually do in our own name but must credit that love with what you love also which is the same spirit. To have spirit and not accept that love for the sake of the spirit creates a condition in those who love you of anxiety and dependence, anger and diffuse feelings of betrayal and which culminate in inflation for the beloved becomes egotism. To have love for having spiritual power is a tremendous responsibility. Many potential girlfriend I let pass without making any gesture whatsoever because I felt that they were on another path or that there was some other need on them to be expressed. This is not an easy situation. It is as if one has to decide what are the Karmas of a person without having the necessary skills to do so. We may make the ordinary character analysis and psychological assessments, but this would not be deep enough for me. I really needed someone like myself who was entering into the path of Self-Realization and who had the necessary complement of personal aspects which would put us together as mates. I knew that I could change rapidly and that there were bound to be problems with an average woman. For one thing I was inclined to limit my sex life for the sake of my Path. From the population sample such as Canada the statistics weighed very heavily against me. This all I say by way of commenting on the many who have gained power through spiritual discipline and end up in an old testament polygamous life style. They are corrupted by their own desire and fall from grace.

How can space come between a man and a woman.
I said, "George, enlightenment is the ultimate; in growth in satisfaction, there can be nothing better."
He asked rhetorically, "What about sex?"
I said again, "What about sex? What do you mean? Isn't satisfaction important? An ultimate is ultimate."

Humanity is woman and man, a complimentary, unified nature. I pray that this writing is for that humanity which would like to know about the action of the spirit. It is for the God in us which is transcendental and which we are. It is for the potential divine ones who have lived and will live the state of the real, the God-Realized, the blessed. It is for all who should know they are This while seeming to be That. People are what make up society or world. You won't understand society if you don't understand people. You can't understand the people if you don't understand yourself. If you can look at yourself clearly and through the right eyes you'll understand yourself, then people and then society. In this way we can pull out of the nightmare that is part of this story. So many potential spiritual greats are ruined by lack of instuction, lack of proper environment and lack of recognition for their potentials that I fear the nation is slowly sliding into decay. There is a rise of the "inner city barbarians" as Toynbee calls it and they are sickeningly cynical and prone to macho violence.

Notes on Royal Ville Library
Built 1899
Outside the library where three bas reliefs, George William Hall sculpted bas relief, artist Adam-Sheriff-Scott, on Bas-relief on retainer walls for the lawn
    "Happy is the man who findeth wisdom and getteth understanding."
    -Prov. 3:13
    "What worlds or what vast regions hold the immortal mind,"
    — John Milton
On wall beside door,
    "tongues in trees, books in running brooks"
    As you Like it, Shakespeare. Act II Sc. I
City Motto
    "Robur meum civium fides" - the strength of the society lies in the faith of its citizens.

Scene: Royal Ville-Victoria Village. Four streets called Victory, Clarity, King and Grove run in parallel and intercept the main road called Brook. I lived on the corner of Grove and Brook.

1985: going with the flow.

On Grosvenor in Westmount I was in the middle of things. There were quit a few people around and some of them were in Shyam Space. I had left the ashram in Toronto in a bad mood and had lived by myself again. There were two ashrams in Montreal Hampton, and Marriette. There were some twenty people involved plus Park Row and Montclair. I used to drop in now and then but was essentially thinking to be free. Somehow. From time to time I would hear from someone who thought that if you didn't live at the ashram you weren't really a part of the Space. It was a problem of dependency. No realization can take place if one clings to the group, neither can there be if one doesn't concentrate, be devoted, spend time in the process of Self-realization. Even then of course there is no guarantee. There was in the back of my mind the subject of effort v.s. Grace in Christianity which I had just spent a year studying. The Pelagian heresy so called was the theory originating in Britain that efforts were really important. Augustine's view dominated and that was grace alone was the way.

I remember a scene of Bank street in Ottawa at the health food store. Nancy operating the cash. Very strong very intelligent and glowing. Two young men talking to her seriously and enjoying her aura. She is dynamite (dynamic) and she is charismatic and very good looking and very warm with an infectious laugh. Has propriety. 1980-81. After a year in India and two years in the West with another of Swami's student who had spent a year in India she is in psychoses, cannot express many of her talents without fear, and has a horrible craving for love - especially a man who knows God, about anything. Keval is also in a pathological state, related to male chauvinism. It is 1985 in Montreal.

She was the Hampton Ashram which was now Mahananda father of Aananda who had done the yoga theater and seemed to be successful in his efforts to realize. Nalini had left Keval and had gone there hoping to get some help. As I passed by she found her way into the kitchen and I was surprised and delighted to see her. The last I had seen her she come back from India in 1982 when I still lived in Ottawa. She had had typhoid. As I recalled that scene I was just recovering from my bad back and had been at home at 104 First Avenue which was just beside the main Ashram at 108. She had visited me and had been shaking like a leaf. Her forhead was burning. I went slowly and painfully over to 108 across the driveway limping with the aluminum adjustable cane and went in the kitchen where I found Shakti, Shankar and Durga.
I asked, "Do you have a thermometer."
Even though my back was still making it hard to walk, they just shrugged and said
"Yeah, its upstairs."
I very patiently asked them to get it as I couldn't do it myself. So obtained, I went back over and took her temperature. It was 105. It was critical. I then had to go back and get them to get her to the hospital. They took my car keys and carried Nancy into the car. Away she went. I went to wash my hands and then lay down and did a few basic exercise. It had really bugged me that Ritambhar had told her that it was just energies. The other ashram had just dismissed it as nothing.

I hear she was at the ashram in Montreal. Now it had happened that in falling out with Keval there had been really bad relationship problems. She couldn't really express it and was asking if I wouldn't mind going for a walk. We went to the little park near there and talked quietly. It seems that she felt very shy and yet urgently needed to talk. She had an urge and had said, "Swamiji told me that I should stay away from men from now on."

It was only a brief talk and I said well I will respect her wish. Later at the ashram they told me that she was incontinent and that she was very scattered. Rick Taylor said that she was very sexual with him. I doubted that. I left her there and went home.

I stayed at 396 Grove where Greg had had an apartment office. He had moved up the hill to be with his wife. And I stayed in the apartment in the interim till he got a sublettor, found another office and till I found an apartment for myself. Starting microcomputer consulting (computer dream fulfilled) business. Twin oaks. Greg had some acorns which he had sprouted. He gave me a few and they grew for some time. I said these could be company symbols. Sturdy old oaks, that sort of thing.", "Don't count on it. I would hate to tie my hopes to these saplings. You might be very disappointed," he said.

A woman called I (aye)

We knew each other from a long way back. She had been going out with my ex-friend M.. M. was a heavy drugee for a long time. She had slid down the long trough with him. She had been to India and had stayed in Kullu for a while as a matter of fact, though not as part of Shyam Space. She seemed to have been quite a refined woman who expressed herself in a cultured way. She played the flute (on occasion), kept her house in some semblance of order. After such a prolonged bout of drugs and other forms of entertainment endless partying and vacations back to back for years, it is very difficult for anybody to settle down and get back to the joy of working life. She had completely spoiled herself. Life become one hopelessly long withdrawal from this thing and that thing. Even with the social skills that she had and her inherent talent, and with the large number of friends (mostly male) she had accumulated, she found it difficult to get any feeling out of the accomplishments and truly enjoyable things that happened to her. She could no longer really think about things with any sort of clarity and changes came slowly anyway. In life like this one finds oneself always running out of the very energy you need to make it all happen. There is no way to expand or recoup oneself that does not require some sort of self-effort or discipline. If you cannot do the work someone else has to do it for you. You have to get energy from outside. Fill yourself up either with the positive vibrations that someone else is supplying or do it yourself. Some women know how to do this with men. So do some men. But there is a calculated difference between the freedom of a true companion and the voluntary dependence of the courtesan, or heteara.

Since I was in the habit of just going with the flow, and since she had been living with an old "friend" of mine I had been seeing them now and then. I tried to get Aye to go swimming with me so that she might be encouraged to get into shape. She had taken to drinking regularly plus some prescription medicines made her somewhat goofy. She would do things she regretted doing and was complaining all the time about things which no one could do anything about directly or of which she was the cause of anyway. After a long time I lost patience with it and told her to either stop drinking or we would not see each other. She chose the bottle.

Well I didn't really think on it because in my mind I had known her for a long time. I had thought at this time that there were a lot of really good people in Shyam Space and that was the work of salvation to have her leave such a trip and become more pure. She might have had, after all, quit her habits and not be drinking or smoking or drugs. So that is possibly good work. For myself I had been too close to that milieu to really complain as it was. Although I was never a dealer and never an addict, and since I was not involved with anything like heroin or cocaine, but nevertheless I had know some people that had gone that way. It was the artistic and musical, heavy side. Who would pass up an opportunity to spend the evening with Mick Jagger and company? Well, I would, but one of a friend of a friend—you know—worked on his wardrobe. That was my quandary in the "evolution". A dirty business. Remember Margaret Trudeau.

This was the end of my thought to reform in that way, it was a Christian ideal I suppose: to get the fallen to repent and start them on the ways of accepting the Lord. In yoga the more typical reaction is to name it kusanga or unyogic and sweep it out of one's life. Yoga as I discovered is quite self-centered (excuse my pun).

I went to the local YMCA and would swim every two days. Quite religiously? My health was really pretty good. Even though I had fallen off the wagon with cigarettes, still I didn't drink alcohol ever. I never ate meat but maintained a health food diet, exercised regularly and was doing alternatively hatha yoga and meditation. I kept up a strong practice of some three hours per day. As part of that practice I was thinking to settle some of my karma accounts as well and so went to visit some of my old friends. Just to see what they were doing. I needed to become part of the society also as the ashrams were buggin' me somewhat.

I met two spanking clean lifeguards from the Royal Ville YMCA with whom I was in love for a while, Greenbucks and McClean. They were country kids looking to secure their careers in the big city. By country kids I mean from country estates, the far suburban gentility. We ultimate had a culture lifestyle clash and had to call it a day.

Christine & old friends. When I went looking for Dwight the Druid among my old haunts in Montreal, I ran into this beautiful tall waitress in the Winnie. I used to sip soda and talk to her some lazy afternoons. She became interested in me and was going to try to start up a business with me. She changed her mind and went to Vancouver ultimately, but not before she offered to sleep with me. I was very flattered but turned her down.

Dwight druid. My old friend. He was a musician and a great creative talent. He had more or less decided to get comfortable as a bar tender. Alas, I don't like bars very much, being a non drinking non smoking and celibate by design, and if I do any of things it is more in the breach than in the observance. So although he was a witty charming and warm as ever I could not fit him into my schedule any better than he would want me wet blanketing his own.

396 grove — Gurumayee, Lucy and mystery girl

Gurumayee was the most incredibly beautiful woman. She was tall strong and very smart. She had all the 'divine' energy of Muktanand behind her and an inherited following of several thousands of devotees. The title to the Muktanand empire carried glory and power and Gurumayee had the skills to carry it along. I heard that her brother Nityanand had stepped down from his throne and had therefore abandoned his rights in that respect. There was news that Gurumayee had remained in South Fallsburg because of the troubles with the brother.

She came to Montreal and I went to see her speak at Felix-Leclerc theatre. There was a great atmosphere about the theater as I entered. It felt like a light tingling sensation. Incense was burning, Champa one of her favorite scents. I felt very attracted to her even physically. There was confusion in my mind about it because I am used to such energy in the form of male gurus. With her good looks and vitality I felt the attractiveness of God in terms of a woman's energy and confusion followed. Gurumayi did not appear to be really feminine and as a matter of fact I felt that she had a lot of Muktananda in her. She was complete paradox for me. I felt romantically inclined toward her nevertheless. Was it possible that she could marry? How can that be. The only sort of relationship with her that is possible is that of complete celibacy. She was wearing a ring on her left hand ring finger which surely was symbolic of her marriage to God. She wore a very square cut orange suit and had very short hair that made her look almost male. She was a very strong Brahman-type woman and she had appeared to me sometimes to be embodying Muktanand in her deepest being. How can you have a love relationship with a being like this anyway. But while sitting with some of Gurumayi's students I broached the issue to them. Incredibly they were unanimous in saying that a relationship with her was not out of the question. My relationship with her was one of most subtle psychic exchanges and nothing more concrete than the vague feeling of her individual presence. She really had a generous supply of good energy for the whole group, or rather, the group as a whole carried around that energy and she was the focus of it.

sa ha naav avatu, saha nau bhunaktu, saha veeryam karavaavahai:
tejasvi naav adheetam astu: maa vidvishaavahai; aum shaantih, shaantih, shaantih
-invocation from the Katha Upanishad
May He protect us both; may He be pleased with us both; may we work together with vigour may our study make us illumined; may there be no dislike between us. Aum, peace, peace, peace.

Sometimes I did wonder what would happen to Gurumayee if she did not have the support of such a large group. She had been passed the responsibility for it by Muktananda. An inherited estate. How would she be if she had built it by herself?

My friend Gyaan Indra had told me about his acquaintance with her. He had gone to see her and had in fact known her from the days before she had become the heir to the empire. He felt that she was not realized, but then familiarity breeds contempt. In 1985 the Shyam satsang sings for Gurumayi - almost.

One day I had though that I shouldn't be involved with this woman but had decided that fate (God?) would decide for me. If anything was to happen with her let it be providential. I decided that I should just go and enjoy and watch and see if anything would happen (some sign or something significant to let me know). I went in and the usher put me in the middle of the audience. I thought fine there is nothing special happening here so I can just leave it. God didn't intend this one for me. Then as I looking about in the audience I saw Vandana and waved—she hailed me to come and sit with them. I grabbed my coat and went over. The seat they had for me was in the front row beside one of the guest speakers for Gurumayee.

I was sitting in my apartment the next day and was pondering about her. I was feeling her attractiveness. The evening light it was very loosely overcast and the light was falling in splotches up and down the street. Suddenly a white bird had appeared near the window and the sun shone brilliantly on it. It was just after I had emerged from a reverie in which Gurumayee and I were into some sort of amorous mood. I was thinking about her in a very loving and personal way. I was charmed. It seemed like an omen.

After the next Satsang at Felix Leclerc I went up to the stage at the end of her speech along with a number of others for her Darshan. I wanted to meet her and I hoped that something (anything) might happen. There was a small group of devotees around her chair and a couple of people were doing Namaskars at her feet. I was about to go down on my knees when I suddenly felt embarrassed. Why am I down on my knees to Gurumayi. I was about to skirt the chair and walk away when she looked up and noticed my name tag. "Nachiketa, Nachiketa", she called out. I turned and went back to her and looked into her eyes. They were big and brown. Her energy was terrific. As I was looking at her I began speaking, "thank you very much for your speech. It has been most delightful." I was going on in praise of her, and I noticed that there was a definite split in my head. There were two sides of my mind one was bathed in white and the other in darkness. It was a peculiar phenomenon and it distracted me while I talked. She thanked me and turned to someone else.

Second satsang she talks about prayer, and continues saying, "pray for marriage even." At this satsang the subject of prayer had come up in a question period. Gurumayi had indicated that prayers can be answered and that one should pray even for the ordinary things of life. "You can pray for marriage even." It seemed so apropos for me. I would be praying to marry someone like her.

On the next evening as I was walking into the auditorium I had a vision, as I looked at her, of a chest. It was a man's chest. It was covered with tufts of brown or black hair as some have and not the silky or curly kind. That day in Satsang I saw that she was staring at something in my aura. I felt a little uncomfortable and felt exasperated. I wondered what she had seen that had absorbed her attention in this way. Afterwards I started thinking about the presence of Muktananda in her. I wondered if she had so much of his influence that it was his own chest in my vision.

I had discussed the idea of romance with some of her disciples. They felt that she might do anything and kept reassuring me that it was all right to think of her in this way. Surely that is absurd. Toward the end of her visit I sent her a love letter but she did not respond. That was that. End of illusion. Nevertheless after the Sunday satsang I felt really full of her love and spirit.

Sunday satsang. Toward the end of her stay there was a special satsang at the ashram. I was given a front row seat at this sitting and Gurumayi was not far away from me. We meditated for several hours and at the end, I felt very good, wonderful. Someone had asked her where is Muktananda now and she did not know. To someone else she had responded to a question about relationship with, "we are always alone." It was obvious that Gurumayi would never be alone and was in the eternal presence of the Guru, and a huge number of disciples. I saw that she had been watching, me very closely and had seen me go into meditation as she closed her eyes, she caught the vibe and I could see that her mouth made this little smile. I wondered what it meant. Was she condescending. Friendly? But for the most part she did not volunteer anything. So if I was looking for someone to love me and call me their own I was about a million light years from my target and not getting any closer. Yet I feel absolutely in love with her and in fact had absorbed a lot of energy in love.

I heard that Gurumayi had cried when she left Royalville. She never came back.

There is in the neighborhood a new complex which was a combination of health food store, restaurant and bookstore. On the top floor they had a seminar room. The restaurant served meatless meals and had a vegetarian dishes. I would go there often when I was taking a break from my work.

It was at bright sunny day with little cumulus puffs rolling through the tree tops in the back patio of Terre Etoile. I was sitting talking to Mike and Elaine. A woman came up and greeted Elaine and then Mike and I was introduced. Her name is Lucy. She was a graphic artist. I gave her my business card and said I needed some work done. I thought she was really beautiful. Her conversation was witty and she seemed a cultured woman -- a fine young woman. I said to her "I like the way you talk." She thanked me warmly and returned the compliment. She talked for a while with my friends and then said goodbye. I watched her as she walked away. Her hips were square and well she had nearly a perfect figure. Nothing was too round or too large or too thin. Her hands were long but not thin and rounded at the end of her fingers, which showed that she had a practical side to her nature, as well as artistic, and psychic capacity according to the palmists. She walked and stood in the classical pose of many ballet dancers, in a position called plier something that is considered elegant among that set. When a person walks with his toes pointing forward, he seems like someone is going somewhere, while walking with feet splayed out like this seems like ambivalence, not going in the direction of one foot or the other while casting about with the question. She had seemed to be a very pleasant person on first meeting, her vibration felt so easy and good natured. She had a high forehead but not arched and big green brown eyes, with delicate well etched natural brows rounding well over the top of her long lashes. Her nose was aquiline and her face thinnish, and her chin neither leading or receding, but showing off lips which were, thinnish like many British and south eastern Europeans. Her family was Slavic it seemed. One of her front teeth was out of alignment giving her a slight mousy air, or funny girl look but, generally speaking she looked well bred and high minded. Altogether she was quite pleasing.

There is a girl, a mystery girl, who lives near El and looks very much like her. I remember seeing her many times as I was out and about and she often reminded me of her. I would look at her and start toward her thinking it was El but when I got closer even though her bearing and character were the same, she was taller more rounded and younger. Some time later I was to ask El about her having a sister thinking it might be hers. It wasn't. Her sister's name is Priscilla. I saw her around the neighborhood quite frequently, and had twice driven unto and Maison to Groove only to find myself gazing (staring ) onto her eyes. She was quite a strong woman whatever age she may have been in the flesh and seemed to be mature. She dressed well and conservatively for a woman that I guessed to be twenty one or two. There was something in her air which suggested to me an innocence, which could be from the usual protected life of the children of lower Royal Ville, or possibly she had not been allowed to indulge every whim as many children do these days, or possibly she simply was innocent in her nature was growing old and naive at the same time.

One day I went again into Terre Etoile. Lucy was sitting talking to a friend Nancy and I went over and reintroduced myself. I was invited to sit down. The friend was a woman of about 32, a doctor and a cello player. She was strong willed and not too bad looking, somewhat opinionated, had an air of health, I found her friend to be a tad obnoxious and had the feeling that I wished she would leave so that I might talk to EL. We three remained talking at some length and then the friend left. I remained with EL and sat talking very animatedly about everything under the sun. I she surprised by her intellectual strength, her curiosity, and her persistence. She was a quiet and determined. We focused on spiritual truths for the most part and I heard many a quote from the prophet Baha ullah. She is a Bahai which is a sort of Persian Unitarian church which promotes world peace and equality of woman and is centered on a monotheistic view of the universe. It was as if my dialectic had come to life in the form of two people. I told her briefly about my work with Christianity and mysticism. She seemed to follow it closely but in the end she reiterated the same opinion about the unity of religions as if she had agreed but not taken the point. I knew I was foolishly falling in love again even as I talked with her. I remember in the midst of all this thinking, her symbols line up in some way that does not hold together. Something in her speech was or seemed poetic, artistic, yet she would seem to be unable to line them up in the proper order. She put her self into contradiction, or slough a premise which was vital to her story. Not that every can be expected to speak in perfect syllogisms. It was very difficult to see where it didn't hold together and I feel that if I really hadn't been very interested in metaphysics and philosophy I would not have been able to even notice that she was making sense sometimes and it didn't particularly seem to bother her that it didn't. I remember saying that she must use language more precisely. I didn't want to get into an argument about it.

I took her phone number and we agreed to get together again. I left her a the bottom of the street and went home feeling very sweet.

We met again at the restaurant just by chance before I had gotten round to calling. We left the restaurant and I offered to walk her home. She said it would be all right that it was just up the street, but I persisted saying that it was no trouble I would like to. I said that I had hoped that she would call about some work that I had planned in graphic arts. I wanted to have a new business card and I had asked her on the first meeting. I should her the one that I had and she looked at it. She casually gave it back to me and said that we must have some karma together. I was very interested. My ears picked right up.

"Why do you say that?"
"Just a dream. There was the number 396." She seemed to be shrugging it off then.
"Tell me about it. I'm very good with dreams."
Now she didn't want to tell me.
"Come now you can't just say that and expect me not to be curious.
"The dream is this. I was in California. There was a period of several years in which two wars happened. People were trying to get into boats to get away but they were leaking. Then I was walking through a field and I came to a house . It had 396 on the door. The door was orange. It had a handle in the middle. I went in and there was a man: he had a beard. He had many worlds in his hand and he was spinning them like a juggler. There was a crystal sphere and she saw that her material was at the bottom. Later she was with her mother didn't understand. they were arguing and Lucy was down on the floor trying to repair the tiles, which were coming up. There was something she did not tell me. "I don't like to tell everybody these things. She was very keen on the idea of making the association between her dream and my address. I was coaxing a little. I felt she was waiting for this man. The date was 1992.

My apartment building is 396. The door is arched and divided between the arch in half for the doors. The door handle is very near the middle. There are two amber lights and they make the door appear orange. Orange is the color of Sanyasin. Inside is Nachiketa of course juggling all the worlds. I had a beard.

We talked for a while about the nature of dreams. I asked her how she interpreted her own dreams. What did the field mean. It means a really good feeling, or it is heaven of sorts.

I said to her, "I must be the guy all right."
She quickly put that idea down. "No he was a prophet"
We stopped. I felt that she was not giving me much dignity.
I said "How do you know I'm not the prophet". I was a bit peeved. She became upset that I would try to suggest such a thing to her. I looked down into her eyes and she bounced back against a park car as if I was some sort of wild animal and alarmed cried softly "what to you want from me."
I recoiled myself, " I don't want anything from you."
I felt awkward as if put on the spot. She continued to stare at me ruefully.
"Just your love, I suppose"
"Perhaps I can help you with your book."
It was beginning to take on a surrealistic air. I felt uncomfortable.
"No I don't need your help for a book". I was feeling put off . It was so unromantic. I felt that she couldn't possibly help me with the dialectic.
"maybe you could illustrate it.", I ventured. I couldn't understand why she would make a point of this. Was it necessary to her dream?

I felt that it had gone on long enough and said, lets not make it a problem. It just seemed to be a lot like me. I feel that I am not less than other teachers and that I could very well fill the role of a prophet. It did not seem outlandish to me if I were to turn up in a dream as a prophet. We began to talk of other things and I started to feel more at ease.

Another evening I called her up and we decided to go for a walk. She seemed to be a quiet and beautiful spirit with a definite commitment to the spiritual life. We went up to Major Hill Park, which was a way up the mountain from which she lived . These parks are a delight in the inner city. The air seemed very charmed and full of life and fresh. The oxygen pours out of the trees and lawns filling the body with the feeling of being in tune once again and enabling one to forget the alienation of the ionized atmosphere of offices and downtown streets. The was a hallowed moon out, grayish over the horizon in the layers of permasmog hanging above the city. It was just getting into the deeper part of dusk when we had arrived.

We sat on the park bench and just chatted for a while.

Somehow I had talked about by name and that my middle name was the name of a Pope, and I laughed at the association. It was not the kind of thing that I ever aspired to be.

"What's yours?" I asked.
She bit her lip.
"Oh never mind. I don't like them."
"Go on. It can't be that bad."
"It's embarrassing."
I laughed, "Well now you have to tell me."
"Lucille Mechthilde Hildegarde  Mathilda Chapel."
"I see. Quite Victorian eh? "
She looked at me chagrined. I smiled.
"What's in a name?"

I felt that she didn't want be appear to be so quaint and hopelessly old fashioned. I felt close and by way of consolation I reached over and rubbed her back. She reacted quite severely, arching away from my hand and looking quite cross.
"Don't". I felt she had cut it off very sharply with her attitude. I said to her that I was only trying to be affectionate and that I sorry she felt that way. She seemed to regret that she had been so abrupt and said that it was just that she was chaste and that she didn't want to be nasty.

"Perhaps you are not interested in a relationship."
"No its just that I really want to know someone before I get married, and I it is part of my belief that men and women should wait until they are married to have sex.."
She was about to go on when I added, "I feel that it is a very good idea for people to know themselves and their feelings before they got into bed, but that I feel that I am interested in the whole relationship. To me love is a whole bodied experience and that just so long as whoever is in a sexual relationship is really into complete, wholesome and enduring then I don't see the difficulty in having sex." I went on.
"However there are a great number of women attached to the ashram who had really either transcended sexuality altogether, or who where very ambiguous about relationship of any kind, and that they were so in love with their Guru you could never even get their attention as a man."

I had been rather hurting about relationships lately as I had encountered several women in Toronto who I felt were in such bad shape that I felt more like a doctor and had only been helping them with there problems and found that they really had did not desire me in the end anyway. It was an unfortunate aspect of my meditation trip that made it difficult for me to find a girl friend. I had always felt that so many of my many lady friends would never consider a relationship with me simply because I meditate and am always talking about God. I told her that I had been celibate for the most part for about 10 years up until 1982 when I went to Toronto and had been thinking about a girlfriend and that nevertheless I was loath to go into bars to find them and was more or less trying to get along with whomever had come in my way leaving it to fate or to 'god' or however she wanted to understand it.

She sat quietly through all this and then finally said that she could respect that and just so long as I knew she would be OK. I felt good about her as if something might happen. I asked her if she already had a boy friend and she said that she didn't. She said that she had many friends in the Bahais and that she knew some men and that she was not involved with them. I felt like leaving then and I said to her that I preferred to go out with women who had a definite relationship and not someone who just wanted to be my friend. If she was not interested just to please let me know and I would leave her alone. I felt disturbed by this time and I asked her if she wouldn't like to go home. She agreed and we got up and walked across the park.

We chatted about the nature of life. On the far side of the tennis courts. Her mood was sad and was yet very open and receptive. She appeared to be somewhat dreamy and as we walked we were brushing into one another. I picked up her hand in mine and she looked at me rather wistfully. I felt that she had had a very bad experience herself and she was somehow very worried about getting involved. She seemed sometimes fragile and this made her angry and occasionally defensive. I had decided that I wanted to be very open with my relationships and let my feelings hang out more. It seemed to me that if I weren't scrupulous from the beginning about where I came from and what I represented that I would again just be in trouble. As I walked I felt some of the old pain coming back and the feelings of loneliness despite the fact that I was holding hands with her. Somehow I could not just say to her that I saw the world in a much different way and that I was in some sort of stage of enlightenment where I just couldn't accept an ordinary relationship. To talk about my ideas of what really makes love work I have to talk about God and a lot of esoteric things about the energy and Karma and so on. I have to make an introductory speech for about three days before I am even understood, and In the end it just looks like I am trying to make myself out as so special that no one in the world could be more egotistic. If I push it I appear to be proselytizing. I have occasionally met those who say from the first that they hate religion and don't like people who use the word God. They give it considerable distance. Even many of those woman from my past who were very high minded people and whom I respect very much still have aversion to religion. I remember this aversion all to well. It was part of my past as well. I started my teen philosophical years as an atheist. It felt to me as if there were a betrayal of the very core of humanities. So many spiritual people even gave lip service to ideals, which in there lives they either pushed into marginal relevance or else steadfastly clung to religious ideals that had even been greatly diminished within the church. They were ready to believe in things that many a modern theologian would not ask anybody to believe. Although they had spent so many years making seeming diligent inquiries into the truth at universities and had in fact the whole world in their hands at the nearest library they did not ever examine the creedal statements and their history and had long forgotten what their faith was really all about and had reduced it to mere sentiments. With a person like myself they then began to cast themselves in a guilty light even though it was not myself that was condemning them but their own misunderstanding of themselves and faith altogether.

I said, "Do you know about King Arthur. He had been betrayed and was terribly wounded in love. The whole kingdom began to suffer in sympathy with the wounding of the king in love. It is not that I am trying to make myself to be Arthur, but that this world suffers because even the most intelligent of women in our culture insist you fly the banner of humanism but then betray you to materialism and worldly success."

She just smiled at me and said nothing.

As we walked down the hill to her house a white cat came across the road and began to play with us. That's a nice symbol I thought to myself. I'm not superstitious but these days I was looking for the intervention of God in history.

So I said, "Do you suppose that is good luck."
She was cynical, "Maybe."
"I'm not superstitious in that sense. I don't let these things rule my life. But there is such a thing as synchronicity. The event which is beyond cause and effect but which is meaningful anyway. God in history as the Christians put it."
"I'm not myself. Bahai's are not into this."

We continued to talk on the way down to her house. When we arrived at the house I asked if she had any more dream. She told me this following.

She was standing somewhere, in a field somewhere. She then saw a red ribbon going up towards the sky were it eventually went into a cloud. Then there was a tree which had two big loops in the branches. In the middle of these loops could be seen the moon on one side and the sun on the other. She went through one of these loops, whether the sun or the moon I do not know. Then she came to a field very sunny warm and pleasant. After she met two Bahai's and she was talking to them about it. They didn't understand.

When she finished she looked at me and asked if I could interpret it for her.

I said, "I don't try to interpret dreams for people in the usual sense. Dreams symbols cannot be looked up in a dictionary or textbook because symbols are particular to the individual. I can only tell you my feelings about your symbols and make up a story about them. It is better for you to go into them and began to actualize your own symbols. Is there any more to it before I say anything?"

No but there is another one.

She was being drawn into a circle of initiates or worshippers in a stonehenge sort of scene with dark and heavy woods around it. Large numbers of people standing around in circle and she is being drawn into the circle. They want her and she is priestess. Then suddenly hand is placed on her elbow and someone turns her aside. She is led to a tree a white tree which she sees has symbols on it which she did not understand. The tree was leafless or perhaps these symbols were the leaves. She was positive about his tree nevertheless. But the tree stood in a sort of wasteland. Empty and barren.

I said, "Really interesting. These are very lucid dreams. These are the kind of dreams that Jung had talked about. They are messages from the subconscious and are archetypal in nature. Since the dreams symbols are expressing something out of the order and not directly related to out day to day affairs, and since the symbols seem to have universal value he considered them to be the stuff which we would interpret as the superconscious mind talking to us. They are messages from above then in effect.

Through working on these and deriving meaning from them we move into higher planes of consciousness and resolve blocks and traumas by going through them. Do you follow me here."

She shrugged, "I suppose I do."

Just then the white cat which had been with us since the park, began chewing on a June bug. It was making a loud noise in the quiet of the summer. Lucy was very disturbed by it. So I went over and tried to get the cat to go back up the street to where it came from. It wouldn't leave. A woman passer by came and I asked her if she wouldn't mind taking the cat with her up the hill. She proceeded on her way with the cat in tow. I returned to Lucy. She told me about herself. She had not finished university. Was an artist and had painted. She wanted to create art that would last a thousand years. We didn't finish talking about the dreams somehow. I said goodnight and returned to my apartment.

We had gone to the park and were sitting on one of those swings that accommodate four people. Two benches tied together and swinging together, made of wood and painted white.

I asked if she wanted to have children. Yes she did.

How about me? Maybe I said. I told her about a visit to a fortune teller and being told that I would have four children. She said that someone had predicted that she would have three. She showed me her palm. Head line is very good. Long life line. Not steady, fate line is off.

We enjoyed ourselves here. Wanted to hold hands with her but she wouldn't let me. She was not committed. She played with it nevertheless. I felt that she was looking more to keep someone else from seeing us holding hands. She made me feel alienated somehow, though, at the same time.

I was out of touch with my own Shyam Space ashrams though there were many Shyams on street.

I felt that Gurumayi was so beautiful and so interesting to me. I had talked to some of her devotees and they felt that I should express myself to her. I told them that my feeling was that I was expressing the desire for a peer relationship and this was tantamount to marriage. They shrugged, "She can handle it." Her handling it was not quite what I had in mind. Still there was the matter of her brother and herself. It is possible that she might step down and leave the direction of the Siddha empire to him. Why shouldn't she marry? Of course there were many reasons, but I wasn't seeing any of them. Anyway I wanted to be clear. I wrote the following letter to her on one of the last days that she spoke at Felix-leclerc and then went around the back where the staff were guarding the door and asked the sentry to take the letter directly to gurumayi. He promised that he would. I went home. Well I didn't hear anything from her. The train metaphor and the feeling of needing to move quickly. Canon # 4.

At this point there was an experience or hallucination of a peculiar kind that I only realized the meaning of much later. I kept seeing this gurumayi lying naked on a couch. She had her back turned to me and there was a transparent silk wrap lightly around her waist and covering part of her buttocks. The skin color was light brown and her shape was definitely fine, It was very attractive and came along with thinking about the woman but was very confusing. Also with gurumayi when I had entered the Felix Leclerc theatre one evening I had a vision sense that I was looking at a man's chest with the hairs on the chest in tufts, which reminded me of the scalp of some types where the clusters of hair amassed over the head and the hair was kept short. As it turns out it was not Gurumayi's projection or imagery but from Swami Shyam and his daughters.

I met Lucy at the King Street restaurant, Encore Un Fois (EUF). It was one of our metaphysical conversations. She was telling me about her art and her various jobs that she has done. She talked about going back to school. I asked her if I might be the man of her dreams. She said maybe and smiled though shyly and a bit off handedly. I was thrilled.

Lucy seemed to be very interested in me. Always asking questions. I repeated the theme that I was glad that I might be the man of her dreams just to see if she was really considering it. I believe she neither confirmed nor denied which was to become endemic with her. I was beginning to really love her. After coming out of the restaurant she was adjusting her cloths. I bumped into her a little bit just for sport and she was sort of offended. She enjoyed the company and we were pretty close walking later. I put my arm over her shoulder and it felt very good, very close. We had been holding hands and she suddenly dropped it. When I asked her what was the matter she said nothing, seemed even apologetic, or skittish. I tried to be good humored but I realized that she was thinking ahead to the corner. Stupidly I thought that she didn't like to hold hands in public. I missed the fact completely that she simply didn't want to be seen with me holding hands. Someone that I didn't know about might be offended.

We were talking one evening and she mentioned that energy could be seen shooting out of hands. At that moment I had an image in my head, Walt Disney's Sorcerer's Apprentice. I looked at her and she seemed to have a being which stands out of her head. How can I tell you? There was an angel stuck feet first and up to her waist inside Lucy. Was she only half incarnated or what. What a strange person she appeared to me. I knew then that she needed to work on herself and great deal before she could be really healthy. It was just an intuition but never the less I realized that whatever her spiritual capacity it was mixed with some morbid material. She felt insulted by my suggestion at the time that she needed some kind of intense effort toward enlightenment. She was too proud of her powers. "You seem to be somewhat stuck in your spiritual development." I said to her. She did not understand and didn't want to either.

Her right ankle is loose and I show her how to correct her walk. She had dreams about a prophet. Clearly all her dreams had connotations of spirituality. It must have been important to her and very basic.

The prophets. When I think of them I think of the old testament. I think of monotheism. It is the children of Abraham that call their visionaries and saviors prophets. What is about them that distinguishes them from the avatar or the sat guru or the saint. Because supposedly it was God addressing the nation through the mouth of the prophet. The guru addressed the individual the saint the society and the person, the avatar addresses the age. But the prophet talks to the nation.

He steers the politic of the society he (or she) lives in. There were two types of prophets in the old testament. There were the ecstatic, associated with a cultus or shrine, and uttering words not his own, concerning the social affairs of his contemporaries, and the Seer, whose clairvoyance and powers were used in the service of the Lord. By way of example here is this from the book of Samuel.

After Samuel had anointed Saul. He gave him instructions.

"..After this you will go to Gibeah of God (where the Philistine pillar is) and as you come to the town you will meet a group of prophets coming down from the high place, headed by a harp, tambourine, flute and lyre: they will be in an ecstasy. Then the spirit of Yahweh will seize upon you, and you will go into an ecstasy with them, and be changed into another man. When these signs are fulfilled for you, act as the occasion serves for God is with you.." 1 Samuel 10:5-8.

"..Saul accordingly sent agents to capture David; when they saw the company of prophets prophesying, and Samuel there as their leader, the spirit of God came on Saul's agents, and they too fell into an ecstasy. Word of this was brought to Saul and he sent other agents, and they too fell into an ecstasy; Saul then sent a third group of agents, and they fell into an ecstasy too.

He then went to Ramah himself and, coming to the will of the threshing floor on the bare hill, asked, "Where are Samuel and David?" And someone answered, "Why they are in the huts of Ramah." He went on from there to the huts at Ramah and the Spirit of God came upon him too, and he went on his way in an ecstasy until he came to the huts at Ramah. He too stripped of his cloths and he too fell into an ecstasy in the presence of Samuel, and falling down lay there naked all that day and night. Hence the saying: Is Saul one of the prophets too?" 1 Samuel 19:18-24"

The later prophets were not so oriented but were more concentrated on the word and the law. Amos, Jeremiah and Isaiah for example were prophets of the book and were the classical prophets that we traditional associate with the name. They express often through invective and consume themselves with judgments of history and nations in the name of God. Passionate and threatening they castigated, criticized, berated and cajoled their fellow Israeli's into revision and reform.

They raged and they were persecuted. Christ said, "A prophet is not without honor, save in his own country and in his own house (mat. 13:57). You are the children of those who killed the prophets (Mat 23:31). O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you that killed the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto you, how often would I have gathered you children together! (Mat. 23:37).

"In Christian belief the Holy Spirit "spake through the [Old Testament] prophets." In the New Testament, prophesying, or ecstatic utterance, was regarded as a special gift bestowed on a select number of men and women. It was accorded great respect until the rise of MONTANISM in the 2d century AD discredited it in the eyes of the orthodox. Thereafter, it was associated primarily with mystics and millenarians, people and sects that were often (but by no means always) labeled as heretical. Among Protestants the Anabaptists and Quakers stress the gift of prophecy. In Islam, MUHAMMAD is believed to be "the Seal of the Prophets," the last and greatest of God's human messengers." Copyright 1995 by Zane Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved.

I had little use for the radical invective of the classical prophets. They were too political. They were too pushy. It was even egocentric.

So when Lucy said that she had a dream and that the central figure in it was a prophet, I felt that she slighted me if she didn't recognize that it was very like myself. However, I hadn't quite awakened to the point for her that the prophet meant messiah, or founder of faith like Mohammed. To me, buried in Old Testament studies as I had been, a prophet was more or less a member of a school or tradition of prophets, and out of these there came from time to time a most notable like Isaiah, Amos, Hezekiah whose words were written down and included in the Torah.

I had gone to sleep before the evening Lucy and I agreed to meet. I woke up much too late. When I called the next day she had said it was all ok and that she deserved something like that. I felt she was needing to be reproved or something or was maybe masochistic.

Stephan Cross. He was introduced to me by Lucy, but as it turns out he had been with Shyam back on Madison days. He had decided that it was not for him or had been informed of this by Shyam for whatever reason. He had then taken up with the Tibetan Buddhist crowd. He ended up with the renegade Tindale Martin.

Mary Temple. This woman was about fifty years old and had a daughter of about ten years of age named Amoris. Mary had been in the Hare Krishna movement and many other religions and was something of a Theosophist.

Mary invited us to a party which we duly attended. I spent long time in kitchen with some technical type from north Af. Talking about circuit boards in Mexico. Lucy came in and withdrew twice she didn't want to share the conversation with me. So I went out in the hall way and we spoke quietly for a while. We hugged for a bit. She didn't want to dance. We were holding hands. I felt the vibe was so receptive. Later I was talking about transpersonal psychology with a girl that Lucy had engaged on conversation. Lucy was so close then, we sitting side by side and I with my hand on her thigh. She seemed to feel comfortable with me.

Mary was on my left. She turned Lucy who was on my right and asked her. "Is this the twin?" I looked at Mary but felt from Lucy strong gesture like "Don't bring that up right now." I asked about it later but it was just dismissed. .

The girl with whom I had been discussing transpersonal psychology asked to talk further with me. She was going to give me her phone numbers, so I asked Lucy if she would take it, just to avoid any implication of lack of solidarity. It was a gesture to her that I don't think she appreciated.

After we left the party, we were walking down the street. I found her very exciting and yet even though she was close she also seemed far away. It was difficult after so many years of abstinence to be so close and not be very interested. Somehow if my head is not set in that milieu then I do not think about it and celibacy does not particularly bother me. But to be with such a beautiful woman with my arm around her was just too difficult, a sort of torture test. She seemed to be seductively disinterested. Magnetic and yet cold. Warm without heat. I was in a feeling of contradiction. Even with my arm around her I felt I was not with her. She aroused me and yet I only felt embarrassed about it. All this was close to the surface of my mind and yet not quiet registering. I was close to being celibate and she was supposed to be 'chaste'. I felt that if things got any cooler we would end up completely disinterested. What relationship would there be. If we both completely restrain the senses it wouldn't be any more of a relationship that St. John of the Cross and Sister Theresa. Those kind of relationships I had at the ashram (I must say they are very loving- more so often than the ordinary kind). Let there be some passion here, I thought.

For Lucy sex is marriage. Sex with someone else. End of the prayer. The charm of the blessing. Psychology today. Jealousy. Aries women very jealous. She seemed to be this character type. Love signs - L. Goodman. If I have to have a relationship let it be the sort of relationship that I asked Sophia for. A marriage. I didn't want to fall in love again with the wrong person. This was a sort of agreement I was so concerned not to get involved in friendship where I was breaking my heart wanting more in the relationship.

Looking for god in history: I was fascinated by the idea that God should appear in history as the Christians say it. The visible manifestation of the Godhead as if personally demonstrating His/Her love for us mere mortals. God's voice and God's appearance to the inner eye, they are common enough, but what about the claims of the Jews to burning bushes, columns of smoke, and so on. These were miracles produced supposedly for mankind without any human agency. How would you feel if God manifested to you in visible form. The Cosmos chose to speak to you.

She had said that she was simple, passive and like things to be 'ordinary'. Lucy and I went in the car to the commencal for some food. We argued about Vedanta and theism etc. There is a difference between the one kind of religion and the other. People who don't know religion assume that there is an underlying unity. There is the supposition of something other than the material world. But that is about all there is in the way of unities. Insiders know that there is big differences which have yet to be ironed out. Her Bahai faith had assumed that there is a unity but that this unity lay in the hands of one man alone, Baha'ullah.

She got an 'upset tummy' immediately. I felt that I didn't really want to argue. After we got out of the car and were walking on to the restaurant when she nearly spun out on the sidewalk as she slipped. She recovered very balanced and poised. I liked her style then . We went to the Commencal and ate. We read swami's letters to her. These are letters from the sat guru I said to her. It didn't register with her what I meant. I said it is like getting a message from the Buddha. Whatever the Guru writes to you has the force of scripture (so I thought then). She was not very interested. I read them through very thoroughly .he had mentioned that she had to work on her language that it was not holding together. Perhaps she has language problems because she cannot be very logical. Accepts things which are doubtful and doesn't have that intellect instinct that knows when something doesn't sound right or hand together. He mentions the beloved does not exist. This puts me in conflict somewhat. I had been wondering if it was not me. I say they are scripture and ought to be read again and again. We leave we are arm in arm. Holding hands.

Terre etoile: argument on cults. Don't you belong to a cult she said. No I answered I do not. A cult is defined by the type of leadership and the way followers think of themselves in relationship to that leader. We believe that we are the One. We are the ones who are to be Self realized. In essence we are all equal. He is the master but we are the masters to be. Our purpose is to realize what he has realized. Freedom is what he teaches. He is not into dogmatic creedal type organizations but a society of free men. We are held together by love. Membership and belongingness are very lightly held. We are non authoritarian, non oppositional, not exlusivistic, not legalistic, objective without an overburden of persecution consciousness, without sanctions about membership, integrated into family and society and more like a university than a sacerdotal organization. So no. Not a cult. She seemed satisfied with my answer.

Terre etoile(TE): growth, understanding, yoga and freedom. Jwall Prakash. Meet at terre etoile. Jula and subway. Jula and I talk. He is confirming our independence. He repeats Krishna idea that we are not ites or isms. We are essentially independent and the group is an association of self realization. No insider outsider concept. I'm quite relieved to always hear this again, affirmed so recently from Shyam. I was beginning to wonder myself. People are so critical of Shyam space it gets under the skin. Lucy has been down on the idea our Ashram. I feel that she is not universal in her outlook despite Bahai philosophy. "hear what he says" I asked her as she walked in. The ashram had been getting me down. Then Lucy came by. I asked Jula to repeat he things that Shyam had said. To paraphrase: there is no Shyam but a self realized being. You people are not Shyam it is my me who is the Shyam. You are just there, etc. Otherwise you will be thinking we are Shyam and a realized being will walk in the door and you won't even receive him. Etc. L. Also mentions " I just want to grow as fast as possible" I liked to hear this as I am also into growth it is the most essential thing. It is all for growth all for self realization.

Afterwards, I asked again if she was wanting growth, to open her potentials. Yes she did. Later she said that she felt numb. She was numbed out. What she meant exactly she wouldn't say.

Lucy kept losing her purse and someone kept returning it. She was quite pleased that it was happening like this. She seemed to look for things that indicated she had a charmed existence.

The waitresses at Terre Etoil were crying. The new management at Terre Etoile our new age center, was rather tough. Often I would be at the counter having how water and lemon and one of the waitresses would be complaining about the treatment they get. On a couple of occasions they were crying. The manager's name I don't know, his assistant was Allan Knight. Stephan Lecroix was running the bookstore.

Lucy: the blind girl of france incarnation. She told me that she thought she had been a blind girl in france and had begun to put Braille into her paintings. One day she said that she felt like a balloon in chains. Lucy: won't go dancing and won't go swimming. She said when she goes dancing she like to dance by herself. I didn't quite understand that but I assumed that she didn't like the atmosphere. Perhaps we could find something nicer than a bar. Well no she's not interested.

TE: meeting bahais. At terre etoile with Bahai friend. She had come to my house and introduced her friend .she then arranged to meet at the cafe. Her Bahai friend had started out the conversation by launching into the Bahai introductory speech.It looked liked the speech had been planned and I suddenly realized that this was the response to my saying I would like to know more about the Bahais. Lucy's friend spoke, "We believe in the oneness of man kind and that religion is above race or color. There is only one God and he is beyond knowing and inaccessible but the Prophets of every age tell us what we need to know. There has been many prophets and these Manifestations of the Lord reveal progressively the truths which we need to hear. The last and greatest prophet is bahaullah. He has said that there is no need for priests and we are all equal in the Bahai faith. He has established a new manifestation and made it clear that there is oneness of religion. There is continuity of divine revelation, but the truth is relative to the age. The prophets are still united, their message is universal, and theirs is an identity to their fundamental teachings. Bahais do not drink or smoke and they meet regularly at what we call firesides. We gather together at the house of a friend and discuss the teachings of the Prophet, as well as the scriptures of the various faiths around the world. If you would like to come we would like to see you."

Thank you very much I said.

Now Lucy spoke.

"We do not have any dogma and are told to use reason and that religions is not incompatible with science. Everyone must pursue the truth for themselves. There are no priests in the bahais but there is a democratic House of Justice to which we submit for authority. We make no differences between people and we recognize that all faiths have the same underlying truths behind them. That is why we even read other scriptures in our firesides. Freedom is essential for the pursuit of faith. Bahais are unique because there is progressive revelation though. You see the revelations of Moses and Jesus, Krishna and Buddha although true at the time are not true anymore. Baha ullah's revelation has superseded them. We believe in the Oneness of God in the Oneness of Religion and the Oneness of Mankind. WE believe in the equality of men and women, in the universality of education, elimination of the extremes of wealth and poverty, in a world government, in the universal auxiliary language through which all men can communicate with each other."

She finished her speech and I thanked them. I was proud of her, it was a pretty good speech. She was quite eloquent. But I was a bit peeved. They were proselytizing me when they didn't need to. I wanted to go to the Bahai headquarters. If the head man was alive I would have gone to see him. That is more my style.

"You have not given me room to speak." I said. "I too have something to say here." Lucy looked perturbed, her friend somewhat more open. The friend said, "Please do say then."

"What I believe is Self realization. That means that there is unity between God and Man and that this unity is the direct perception of the god himself or herself as you might say. The being of God and the Being of man are not separate but are one and the same. This truth can be found by any man who wants to make sufficient effort and given the grace of God he will succeed. To realize is to feel completely satisfied as this is the end of all human aspiration and endeavors. There is nothing greater and nothing more is required in a person's life than to experience for himself his own true nature. This is self realization because the man or woman who has this experience feels that in themselves as the oneness of mankind and in fact all things. They feel they have become that very being that is the foundation and creator of the universe. By this I mean we realize our original sharing in the ground of things, in the real nature of things and this is life. Our own selves are the divine nature. We come to this through the practice of meditation. In the meditations we clarify our mind and souls until the direct perception of the innermost being reveals to us that the true self is the drop that merges into the Oceans. It doesn't mean that one man is the One and only god but that all man participate and are united in essence with the Lord and that this is the true human legacy and heritage. God is not exhausted through becoming man but all men are vivified by their sharing in his being.In other words the real basis of life is Oneness."

I stopped.

Her friend began to start another pitch and did not even seem to register that what I had said had direct implications about the exclusivity of the prophets. She began to argue it and I was a touch peeved again. Finally I looked like I would rather not talk about it.

We left the cafe and headed towards home.

Lucy she was angry when I criticized her friend. I apologized and she accepted. Lucy had gone into the house to fetch something and her friend came and she seemed to very turned on by me. She sat very close and we talked for a while. She admitted that she deserved to be interrupted and said that in fact it had felt good about it. But when I then pointed out to Lucy that her friend was not upset a she had been L made shrug of it. Later I was playing and had some sort of magazine in my hand when I pushed it between her arm and her waist and jumped back. She had not wanted to take it inside. So then I spun away and just the caught a horrible vibe from her. I looked back into the doorway and she was in the shadows. I could see her anger. She was very upset, very touchy. The radiation of her energy got me down right away. I felt like a schoolboy about to be strapped for some vile misdemeanors. Looking at her in the door way and feeling the negativity of her vibration really put me off. I felt a deep pain. I think I knew this was really nothing to her. How could she become so hostile over just nothing. She had no sport in her no laughter except mockery. she never made me feel good.

It was odd that although Lucy said she was a blind girl in France she later said she didn't believe in reincarnation. her in pleroma. In her conversations she seemed to resist definition. Everything had soft edges and nothing was defined. Facts seemed to be slip and slide or so what's and maybe so but who cares responses. She would talk about abstract things but it sounded to me like she smoked to much weed. She didn't, she just argued like a doper. Her cosmos was an undifferentiated goo. She didn't want to get into things. She like things to 'just be ordinary', and we didn't discuss psychic phenomenon. She said she was 'simple'.

There was a drawing that Lucy had done of Icarus in living room at Lucy's mom home on Prince Albert Street. I had gone over to her house to pick her up. She had to take a old knitting machine over to the house of a friend of her mothers. I was invited in and after a careful inspection by her mother, I was asked if I wanted tea. I didn't. There was a drawing of Icarus, which showed some technical refinement, hanging in the living room. What did it mean (to her). Lucy explained, "Mankind should not go beyond his bounds." Certain religious groups and Bahais also believe there is a certain hubris in inquiring to closely into the nature of God. They see mankind as bound to creation and as eternally separate from their creator.

Mary temple and group friends of Lucy are into Alice Bailey and theosophy.

We had gathered at Mary Temple to try to start a little discussion group. Everyone was to try to contribute something. On this occasion Patrick, Mary's son, was to read a paper. Before we start we had a little refreshment. I took soda water and Lucy took wine. Steve S. Is acting the fool with Lucy. Lucy is lying on the couch next to him at his feet and she seems to be amused with him as she puts him down. He is going on and on. He is very turned on by her. Something is bothering me with it, my inner bell starts ringing, it is very flirtatious play and Lucy is fully involved, maybe not maybe just her expression of friendship, still he is in love with her, I can see. Why doesn't she cool him a bit especially with me around, I mentioned this to her later and asked what her interest was.. She said nothing and when I mentioned he was turned on she denied that he thought like this and that they were just friends. I felt that she was somehow tantalizing him uselessly.

Patrick had an article on some Bailey exposition . He had done the research on Bailey. He was studying second hand Tibetan knowledge and his thoughts did not reach the point which I presume was to be Self-realization or Enlightenment.. So I was asked what my opinion on his paper and at once started to say it was pretty good and so on but that this knowledge should be pursued in the proper places and that if you really wanted to know what was in the Tibetan scriptures one should go to the living Tibetan masters who can really tell you what its all about. Why take it second hand from Alice Bailey and who is only getting this knowledge herself from a supposed psychic source.. This is the sort of thing that was quite fashionable in the past in lieu of real acceptance of Eastern thought. I went on to say some things about the nature of religious unity and what it really means but was quite critical about some aspects of the monotheist concept. Concluded with remarks on meditation. Towards the end there was a pause a L. Got up and headed toward the door without saying goodbye. What was the problem I don't know. Was she offended by my speech? I got up and went with her. Mary T was sad after this party . I remember saying that she needs a boy friend and that L. And I will find a man for her.

On the way home I gave her little metal toy Pegasus. Belerophon was on top. She thanked me very much. I put my arm around her and we walked for a bit. The as I felt she was quite distant I pulled her in a little more closely. Felt an acute loss. I was very sad and just walked along by myself for a awhile thinking it is all over really she doesn't love me. And so on. She said nothing and then said "I just don't feel that way about you and so on." I said I'm sorry about that and reminded her that I had already said that I was not wanting to get myself involved with something that did not have the intimacy in it. She was adamant. I felt that from your dreams you might have and interest in me.

"You're not the prophet," she said
That really cut into me. What could I say. It seemed to real and to be absurd at he same time.
"Why can't I be a prophet? I. . . . ."
I felt dismayed and had decided to go home directly and abandon that walk to her house.
"You have too many expectations," she said.
And I said, "Listen if you are not interested in me I might just as well go"
But she wouldn't let me go. I remember touching her elbow and her looking at my hand as if it were some kind of subtle manipulation or something.

Later on we talked at her door. I remember her way in things . . . about not being able to hear an so on, but was determined to make a go of it. She said this night that she can't hear things. I was startled but not surprised. The graduate flashed through my mind. I said firmly to her that I loved her, she seemed to ignore what I said and continued talking about something else. I felt a little deflated. Remember noticing that she was seeming to be half way out of her body. She would say things about god and I would see a little bump form in the aura around the top of her head. A spike about ten inches long and pointing tangential toward the sky. Suddenly I knew what Shyam had meant about conceptual wave forms not being the reality. I literally saw that she meant God was up there and that God was very much a concept or wave form of her mind rather than something that she had really experienced. She ended by saying that I'm judgmental.

I turned and walked toward home. Suddenly I turned back as I walked away and said, "It is prudent that a man have judgments otherwise he is always repeating his mistakes. I said over my shoulder, "What about your judgments." She knew it was true. Of course it was true. She was quiet (at last). I was almost chuckling inside (unfortunately) I don't think that she appreciated that space. She caught a little grin on my face and it must of irked her. She after said she didn't remember me saying that I loved her even though I had practically yelled it at the top of my lungs.

"In Ephyre (latter Corinth) Glaucus was king. He was the son of Sisyphus. Glaucus fed his horses human flesh to make the more fierce in battle. He was thrown one day from his chariot and his horses tore him to pieces and devoured him.

His son was Bellerophon. Sometime it is said that the true father was Poseidon. He had gifts of the spirit and body. His mother was Eurynome, a mortal, taught by Athena, and was in wit and wisdom the pear of the Gods. Bellerophon wanted Pegassus for his stead. Pegassus had sprung from the Gorgon's blood when Perseus killed her. Bellerophon, upon the advise of a seer went to the temple of Athena and slept there. She appeared in a dream and gave him a golden bridle, to tame Pegassus. He bridled the flying horse and flew about in exultation.

Now Bellerophon was said to have accidentally killed his brother, and afterward went to Argus to to purified by king Proetus. The wife of Proetus fell in love with him. When she was spurned she framed him. Proetus then sent the youth to take a letter to the King of Lycia in Asia. The letter asked King Iobates to kill Bellerophon. The king , however was reluctant to do so. So he instead asked him to slay the Chimaera, a lion in front, a serpent behind, a goat in between. He did so while riding Pegassus. Then he was sent against others, the fierce Solymi, and the Amazons, whom he conquered. Finally Iobates was won over and gave him his daughter to marry. He lived happily for a long time. Then he tried to ride Pegassus up to Olympus. The horse threw him off. From then on Bellerophon, hated by the gods, wandered about devouring his own soul and avoiding the paths of men until he died."