When You Can Walk
on Water,,
Take the Boat
Ithink everyone enjoys the thrill of
discovery, the inner joy of unearthing some previously undetected gem of
thought, idea, or philosophical concept that one is certain will soon become
immensely popular and widely heralded. I had that thrill and joy of discovery
in 1985 when my dear friend John Harricharan sent me his “just
finished”
manuscript for my opinion.
The manuscript bore
the superficially humorous, but
spiritually challenging title, When
You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat. I knew from my first
read-through that the world would soon be hearing a great deal about
this beau-tiful little book. I perceived that this marvelous, modern parable
would seize the imagination and the hearts of hun-dreds of thousands of
readers. Today, more than a de-cade later, with its worldwide acclaim, its many
awards and prizes, my initial assessment has been proven accu-rate over and
over again.
In my
Introduction to the first edition, published in 1986, I praised the manner in
which John blended uni-versal truths with effective storytelling techniques.
The first-person narrative depicts a series of crises and triumphs within the
world of commerce which coincided with a pilgrimage of soul in the higher realms.
Throughout the text, John Harricharan the author and “John,” the narra-tor,
keep encouraging us to continue to pay our physical dues and to continue to
learn and to grow. Through a powerful progression of dramatic lessons, “John”
comes to understand that all the pain, chaos, and confusion is actually trying
to teach us that we chose to put on the fleshly clothes of Earth to fulfill a
mission of spiritual
growth. All of the chaotic, swirling
energy around us can be interpreted as quagmires of death and depression — or
as opportunities for life and learning.
And now,
more than twelve years after I penned the introduction to the first edition of When
You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat, I am honored to have been
asked once again to serve as the “host” who stands at the portal of this
unique and fascinating work — and I am more eager than ever to invite new
readers to explore its depths and wonders.
Just as we
all love the thrill of discovery, I am certain that we would all like to meet
some remarkable sage like the mysterious Gideon, whom John, our narrator
encoun-ters within the pages of this book. And that, of course, is the timeless
enchantment of an extended allegory such as When You Can Walk on Water.
. . . Through the magic of entering the vision that John Harricharan has
trans-lated onto these pages, we may each of us join him on a spiritual
pilgrimage that will lead us to the goal of higher awareness and greater
enlightenment.
Brad Steiger
Forest City, Iowa
Preface
The question asked most of me by those
who read this manuscript prior to its publication was, “Is it true?” The
question still asked of me after all these years
by many of those who’ve read this
book is, “Is it really true?” My answer, now as then, is the age-old question,
“What is Truth?” This is a book about you and me and others of our world. The
ancient truths are as old as the hills, yet they shine ever so radiantly with
newness when-ever they are rediscovered.
It is no
accident that you have picked up this book. Perhaps, it is by “divine
appointment” that we meet in these pages to explore again the meaning of life.
Perhaps, in the exploration and adventures that follow, you would rediscover
and realize that you are a being of infinite power and potential, limited only
by your own beliefs about yourself and the world.
What
follows will mean different things to different people. For some, it will be a
lovely, other-worldly ad-venture, but for others it will be a powerful
re-awakening, a life-changing experience.
Life is
lived from within and one can never be hurt by what appears to be happening
outside. You can change circumstances, if you so desire — for your only purpose
in life is to make choices. Once the choice is made, the entire universe moves
to bring into fruition that which you chose.
Read on
then, with an open mind and let yourself ask you questions. Many of
these truths you already know, but may only have forgotten. Let us
remember together the true nature of our being.
Chapter One
It was evening time. Not completely
dark, but with traces of the day still remaining. Everyone had left the office
and I was there all alone completing the few
tasks that remain at the end of any
day. It is not my nature to work late, but today was somewhat different. Mixed
with a feeling of accomplishment was the frustration and disappointment of not
having completed all I would have liked to do.
My office
was at the end of the building, overlooking the parking lot. The lot was empty
save for my little car which appeared to be waiting so patiently. Always it
seemed to be waiting for me, never complaining, always nearby. “Time to leave,”
I thought. “I’m already late.” If there’s one consolation, it was that there
wouldn’t be any traffic at this hour.
Glancing
through the window as I reached for my attaché case, I noticed a blue car a few
spaces removed from mine. The hood was raised and it seemed as if some-one was
trying to fix something. It wasn’t unusual for cars to limp into our parking
lot with some problem or other. I descended the stairs to the main door, set
the night alarm and walked out of the building.
The blue
car was still there with its hood pried open. With the idea of seeing whether I
could be of any help, I cautiously approached. Through the window in the dim
light, I saw a bearded face smiling back at me. “What took you so long? I
thought you might have changed your mind,” he said. The nerve of the guy, I
thought. A total stranger, and he wanted to know what took me so long.
Ingratitude really bothers me. It struck me as somewhat
strange, however, that he seemed to
have been expecting me. A totally improbable assumption I felt, as I quickly
dismissed the thought.
Peering
under the hood I shouted, “Try the motor once more.” He did, and it immediately
sprang to life and con-tinued running with a beautiful purr as if nothing ever
had been the matter with it. The bearded one got out of his car, walked up to
me, thrust out his hand and said, “Hi! It’s good to see you again for the first
time. My name is Gideon.”
“Hello,
Mr. Gideon, it’s nice to meet you,” I stammered, shaking his outstretched hand.
“My name is John.”
“Yes, I
know,” he said. This took me by surprise. I had never seen the man before. He
wore blue jeans and a flannel shirt and appeared to be somewhere between the
ages of fifty and sixty. He wasn’t tall. His hair was jet black and neatly
combed with one lock falling idly over his right brow. The beard which was as
black as his hair was full and trimmed, but his eyes were his most no-ticeable
feature. Even in the dim light of the street lamp, one could see those piercing
orbs and know they had lived a legend. Such determination in those eyes, and
yet, such kindness as well. Although I noticed all these
the weather at that moment. “How do
you know my name?” I quickly snapped.
“Oh, I
guessed. Most everyone is Jim or John or Ron or Tom.” He said it
matter-of-factly, but there was something in his voice that seemed to suggest
that he really knew my name. Maybe this was one of those set-ups I’d heard so
much about recently. Perhaps he was intent on doing me harm — stealing or
something. I had the overwhelming urge to leave that spot and remove myself
from his pres-ence as fast as possible, but those eyes held me there.
“I see
that you’re alarmed — concerned about your safety,” he said, seeming to pull
the very thoughts out of my head. “No need to fear. Thanks for helping me with
the car. I thought no one would come at this hour, but there you were! People
these days are so afraid of every-thing, of each other, of the dark, yes, even
of themselves. My gratitude to you, John.”
I figured
that he had to be lying since I hardly did anything to help him start his car.
It just appeared to me
“Perhaps
we’ll meet again soon,” he said as I moved toward my car.
“Perhaps,”
I muttered, thinking how unlikely that would be. He waved as I stepped into my
car and drove out of the parking lot.
By now it
was very dark, and my wife and children would be wondering where I was or
whether I was stranded on the road. It was the normal, short drive, no more
than 15 minutes or so before I pulled up to the mailbox at the bottom of our
driveway. As is my custom everyday, I col-lected the mail and started driving
up to the garage. The driveway is long and curving and the thought occurred to
me to make arrangements for snow removal for the win-ter. It was far from
winter and, yet, my tired mind was already getting prepared.
I wondered
about Gideon but brushed the thought away, having felt I’d done my good deed
for the day and probably would never see him again. There were more important
things to do now, like dinner, walking the dog
As I
walked into the house, mail in one hand and attaché case in the other, my son,
Jonathan, was waiting for me. Only three years old, he had no concept of time
and so was not too surprised to see me at that late hour. Laying aside the mail
and attaché case, I picked up Jonathan and proceeded into the kitchen. My wife,
Mardai, and daugh-ter, Malika, greeted me warmly. The aroma of slowly
sim-mering chicken stew made me realize how hungry I was.
“What kept
you so late today, John?” Mardai asked as we sat down to dinner.
“Oh,
nothing much. Just helped a fellow get his car started.” Dinner over, I took
care of the remaining chores, helped put the children to bed and discussed some
of the day’s activities with Mardai. Finally, we watched a short TV show and
then I read for a little while. I love to read, but there never seems to be enough
time. Generally I’m reading at least five books at different stages, going from
one to the other until I complete them all. It’s cer-tainly not the best way to read
books, but this way, I do manage to get through them.
We decided
to turn in, and only then did I feel the fatigue of the day. Reflecting on my
strange meeting with Gideon, I fell asleep.
Chapter Two
It’s my habit to wake up very early in
the morning. I’m one of those ridiculous fellows who finds it almost impossible
to sleep late. Whether I to go to bed at eight o’clock in the evening or two in
the morning, I still get up by five or six. This morning being no exception, I
was up and ready to go by six-thirty. I said good-bye to my family
and
drove the short distance to the office.
A
breathtaking morning it was, indeed. The rays of the sun streaming through the
windows of the car warmed my very being and made me want to sing for joy.
Actu-ally, ‘sing’ is not the word to describe the sounds I make in the attempt,
but in the car no one hears and there’s the feeling of safety in that private
cubicle. Except on those rare occasions when a driver pulls up at a stop light,
looks at me quizzically and drives away, I’m not even conscious of the quality
of my singing.
I pulled
into the parking lot half expecting to see the blue car of the night before. Of
course, it wasn’t there.
“What a strange man,” I thought. “I
feel as if I know him or have seen him someplace before. Perhaps it was at a
conference or a convention.” It wasn’t long, however, before I was caught up in
the day’s activities.
Things
were not going too well for my business. We had designed and built a portable
device that was of use to printers and photographers. It was an excellent
machine, capable of recycling the valuable chemicals from their waste
processing solutions. Although we’d received a large number of compliments
about it, sales weren’t increasing as fast as we had expected and, as everyone knows, compliments don’t pay
the bills. I had built an excellent management team and we were expanding our
horizons. But still, at times I felt so alone in what I was doing.
The sound
of the ringing phone woke me from my reverie. It was our plant manager calling
to inform me that an entire production line had to be shut down immed-iately.
“Do whatever you can. I’ll be over shortly,” was all I could say. Another phone
call. The voice of my secre-tary heralded the type of calls I would receive all
day. “It’s Mr. Abe Ludic,” she said. “Do you want me to tell him you’ll call
him later?”
“No, I’ll take it,” I replied.
She
switched the call to my line and for the next five minutes I explained to Mr.
Ludic why a past due bill remained unpaid.
Phone
calls for the purpose of collecting past due pay-ments coupled with the
company’s financial situation were enough to drive me to distraction. We had
recently applied for a substantial loan from a local bank only to have the
banker laugh at us.
Whenever I feel like becoming depressed, there is a game I play with. It always seems to
work. I stop doing everything and say to myself, “Now, John, since you like to
do everything well, take the next ten or fifteen minutes and become as
depressed as possible. Wallow in your mis-ery. Think of how terrible things are
and how the entire world is against you. Note how everyone you know goes out of
his way to make your life unpleasant. Think of how very unfortunate you are.
Now, as soon as the second hand on your watch reaches twelve, start.” When the
second hand reaches twelve I try to become as miserable as pos-sible. Within a
few minutes I’m laughing so hard at the absurd nature of my thoughts that the
depression vanishes.
Somehow or
other, I was able to make it through to lunch time. We were able to get the
production line back on stream and Mr. Ludic agreed to wait for another week.
I don’t
normally eat lunch. In fact, I could go without breakfast and lunch without
ever feeling uncomfortable. Today was no exception. I had a strong urge,
however, to leave the office and go for an invigorating walk. It would be
refreshing, I thought, to get out of the office for a while.
I’d gone
quite a few blocks when I decided to return by an alternate route which would
take me past a quaint
little restaurant. So demanding was
my morning that I’d taken a longer walk than usual. As I approached a corner, I
had the persistent feeling that there was an appoint-ment I may have forgotten.
I’ve been known to forget appointments before so, instead of returning to the
office, I figured I’d use the pay phone in the restaurant, call my office and
check whether or not there was an appointment.
I quickly
walked up to the restaurant, opened the door and entered, looking for a phone.
Although the restau-rant bustled with lunch customers, I located one on the
other side of the room, went over and dialed my office. I asked whether I had
an afternoon appointment and was assured that I didn’t. I breathed a sigh of
relief, but could not shake the strange, nagging feeling that I had to meet
someone. Since I was already in the restaurant, I decided to have a quick
lunch.
I
approached the hostess who looked at me, smiled sweetly and said, “Mr. H.,
please follow me.” As I followed her across the dining room, I thought how
flattering it was that she recognized me. It’s a small northeastern town I live
in. It’s an even smaller town that I work in. Almost everybody knows one
another. She led me to a table over
by the far corner near a window. I
thanked her and even before I was properly seated, she said, “Your other party
will be here soon.”
“My other
party?” I asked. I was surprised since no one, not even myself, knew I would be
stopping at this restaurant. Noticing my surprise, she looked around and said,
“Oh, here he is now. Enjoy your lunch.”
Up to my
table strode Gideon. Ignoring my questioning gaze, he seated himself, smiled
and said, “Fine day it is.”
“Fine day
it is, indeed! But what are you doing here?” I asked not rudely, but rather out
of surprise.
“Hope you don’t mind my joining you.”
“Of course
not. But I certainly didn’t think I was going to see you again so soon.” I was
becoming somewhat confused. First the incident in the parking lot, then the
strange urge to walk past the restaurant, followed by my decision to have lunch
and, finally, meeting Gideon again. “Did you make reservations or plan to be
here for lunch today?”
“Yes, I made the reservations for both of us.”
“How did you know I’d
be here? Even I didn’t know.”
“Just had a feeling. You have these feelings at times,
don’t you? The phone rings and you
know who’s calling. You think of someone you haven’t heard from in years and
you receive a letter from that person. Just had a hunch that you’d be here and
I took the chance.”
“I was
thinking about you. I wondered whether I was ever going to see the bearded man
whose car broke down in our parking lot. By the way, is everything fixed now?
Does it run OK?”
“Runs
better than ever.” His eyes seemed even more piercing than in our previous
encounter. They seemed to probe the very depths of my mind, leaving me to feel
that I could hide nothing from him. “Didn’t think you’d make it this time
either,” he continued, as if speaking to himself.
“Pardon me?”
“Oh, nothing. I talk to myself sometimes.”
“Well,
since you’re here, I’ll say it’s good to see you, again. Let’s have a quick
bite because I’ve got to be back at the office shortly.”
“One of
your problems, John, is that you hurry too much. Yesterday in the parking lot,
you were in a rush. Today at lunch, you’re in a hurry again. Take some time to
enjoy life. Everyone has the same measure of time, you
know. Twenty-four hours a day. It’s
what you do with your time that’s important.”
I really
didn’t think I needed to be preached to today, but I wanted to be as polite as
possible. “It’s easy for you to say,” I replied. “I have responsibilities, you
know. A business to run — things to do. Sometimes the burden of it all gets to
me.”
“Only if
you let it. And everyone has responsibilities. Do you know that the word
responsibility could mean
‘ability to respond’? Do you have a
business to run or do you have a business that runs you?”
For
someone I was meeting for only the second time, he certainly had a lot of
opinions about me. A good philosophical discussion, however, always brightens
my day and besides, there was some truth in what he had said. “You seem to have
things nice and easy,” I quipped. “Where do you work and what do you do,
anyway?”
A strange
look came over those dark eyes. “Actually I’m a trouble shooter,” he said, “a
jack-of-all-trades, if you will. What you’d probably call a consultant for my
company, if you know what I mean.”
“And your company?”
“It’s
called G & M Enterprises, Inc. It’s not the car company. I’m sure you’ve
never heard of it.”
“Can’t say that I
have. Is it a large corporation?”
“To a
certain extent — very diverse — in many coun-tries. World headquarters in the
Big City with branch offices throughout the country.”
“What do they make or do?”
“Somewhat of a service company, more
or less.” Sensing his reluctance to offer more information and
not wanting to be rude I
asked, “Are you on vacation now?”
“No.
Actually, I’m on assignment. I’ll be in this area for a little while.”
“Do you live around here?”
“Not
really. Just passing through. After completion of my current assignment, I’ll
be on the road again.”
“Well, I
hope they give you a better car,” I said with a laugh, remembering his problems
of the evening before.
He smiled,
and changed the conversation back to my work. “So things aren’t going too well
with your busi-ness?” he asked.
“We’ve been struggling
for a long time, a real long time,
Gideon. There are times when we think
we see light at the end of the tunnel, but more often than not it’s a freight
train. It’s tough.” I was surprised to find myself speaking this way to a
stranger. I normally don’t share my prob-lems with those who aren’t close to
me, but somehow this time seemed different.
“Why
struggle? A seasoned swimmer does not struggle against the water. He flows with
it, using it as a means of reaching his goal. Don’t struggle, just follow the
flow. Let the river of life carry you.”
The
restaurant was mostly empty now. In between our conversation we’d managed to
finish our brief lunch. Only two tables across from us were occupied. I glanced
at my watch. It was time to go. But my strange friend wasn’t ready to leave. He
gave me the impression that he wanted to tell me something. Again, I had that
sense of forebod-ing — not quite foreboding, but almost like I was getting
involved in things for which I wasn’t ready nor prepared. I paid the bill and
he offered to pay his share, but I refused. He thanked me and got up.
“Do you
have a business card?” I asked. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a card
and handed it to me.
“Thank you. I must say good-bye now
and get back to that crazy job I have,” I said.
“Be
grateful that you have a job to go to,” he replied. We walked to the door and
went outside. I hoped he wasn’t setting me up for something. I’m somewhat of a
pushover when I like someone and I was beginning to take a liking to this
stranger.
As we said
good-bye I told him I hoped we’d meet again soon. He nodded and said, “Who
knows? It really is a small world.” He turned, waved and left.
I walked
back toward my office. All during lunch I felt an aura of kindness and,
strangely enough, power around Gideon. Now back in the sunlight, the apparent
mystery seemed to vanish.
The
afternoon passed smoothly without as many diffi-culties as the morning. Several
times I glanced through the window into the parking lot where I’d first seen
Gideon. Perhaps, we’d meet again.
There was
going to be a little dinner party at my house this evening. Just a few friends
and neighbors getting together to enjoy each other’s company. It was beginning
to get dark. Possibly a storm was on the way, I thought.
You never can tell with the weather
these days. I decided to leave early to reach home before the rain came.
I was
about to pull into my driveway when all the drive-way lights went out. I thought,
perhaps, the impending storm had something to do with it. Then the storm broke.
Such fury of wind and rain I’ve rarely seen. The rain was a sheet of white
water alternating with the reflection of bril-liant flashes of lightning. The
blasts of thunder reminded me of the legends of the gods on Mount Olympus
hurl-ing thunderbolts at their enemies. I could hardly see as I drove up the
driveway and, since the electricity was out, I couldn’t open the garage door
either. After parking the car, I rushed into the house, getting drenched in the
few seconds it took me to do so.
All was
dark inside except for the areas lit by the few candles Mardai had found. Our
dinner guests arrived and we made the best of a poor situation. We ate by
candle-light and marveled at the many faces of nature.
“It seems
really strange to me, John,” one of the guests remarked.
“What seems strange?” I asked.
“The fury and nature of this storm. I just telephoned
a neighbor down the street and he
said that it didn’t rain there.”
“Didn’t
rain there? A few blocks away? How can that be?”
“And all their lights
are on,” he continued.
It was
strange to see a storm that occurred in only a few square blocks. For no
apparent reason I thought of Gideon. Immediately there was a blinding flash of
light-ning and all our lights came back on. We discussed the storm for a little
while longer. Personally, I seemed to connect it with something having to do
with Gideon. Yet, that made no sense.
Chapter Three
Two weeks had passed since I last saw
Gideon. Things at the office seemed a little worse and busi-ness was not
getting any better. Our newly-invented device
was not selling as we’d expected. We
were fast approach-ing another financial crisis. In the past few years, it
began to seem as though my life had been a journey from crisis to crisis with
only brief pauses in between. Then, unex-pectedly, I had to make a trip to the
Midwest.
A
potential account we had been courting for the past six months suddenly
exhibited tremendous interest in our product. It would be a short trip, just
two days. All travel and hotel arrangements made, it was soon time to leave.
No matter
how many times I’ve flown, there’s always a sense of excitement as I approach
an airport. The noise of the jets generate thoughts of faraway places that
intrigue me, but this was a business trip and all my thoughts had to be
concentrated on the matter at hand.
After a
pleasant flight, it was but a short cab ride to my hotel. I would be ready in
the morning for my meeting with Mr. Seymour, the head of the company. I had
never met Mr. Seymour in person but hoped he would receive my proposal in a
favorable manner. A good night’s rest and I would be raring to go, I thought.
As I was filling out the necessary registration form, the desk clerk smiled and
said, “We have a message for you, Mr. H.” I opened the note. It stated simply
that M. Tarkas would meet me later. Perhaps it was Mr. Seymour’s idea to send
someone to meet me.
I went to
my room, unpacked my small overnight bag and took a quick shower. Then I phoned
home to let
everyone know I’d arrived safely.
When it was time for dinner, I went down to the dining room. As I was walking
across the lobby, a lady stepped up to me and said, “Hi! I’m Marla Tarkas.
You’re John!”
“Should I know you?” I
asked, momentarily startled.
“Gideon
told me you’d be here and asked that I offer my help.”
Ah, here
we go, I thought. Gideon again. And I hadn’t seen him in weeks. Who was this
woman, anyway? How had Gideon known about my trip? Perhaps, he had called my
office and someone had mentioned it to him. But my secretary never gives out
that kind of information. I must admit that I resembled a giant question mark
as I stood there looking at Marla.
She smiled
at me sweetly. “May I join you for dinner? We’ll talk more then.” I nodded
numbly and we went to the dining room. When we were seated, I looked at Marla
with evident discomfort.
She was
beautiful but had a distant look, as if deep in thought. Her eyes were blue and
her hair seemed to reflect a golden glow. She appeared to be perhaps 25 or so,
but certainly not more than 30.
“How long have you
known Gideon?” I asked.
“Oh, for ages,” she
said, smiling.
“I haven’t
seen him in weeks. And I really don’t know Gideon that well. Had lunch with him
once. Are you good friends?”
“He’s one
of my closest friends. We’ve been through a lot together.”
“I wonder
how Gideon knew about my trip,” I said, hoping that Marla would shed some light
on this. But all she said was, “Gideon knows many things and has his own ways
of finding out.”
I rolled
this around in my mind for a few seconds, but could make no sense of it. Then I
asked, “Do you work around here?”
“Not too far away.”
“What’s the name of your company?”
“You
probably never heard of it, but it’s called G & M Enterprises, Inc. I’m in
the PR Department.”
“Isn’t that the same company Gideon works for?”
“Yes, but
he’s in a different department,” she replied. It was now all clear to me.
Gideon and Marla knew each other because they worked for the same company.
Gideon found out, one way or another,
about my trip, called Marla and asked her to help me. He was only try-ing to
repay a favor. It was so simple. Yet, why go to such extremes to repay a small
favor? All I did was help him to get his car started, or so I thought.
The rest
of dinner was spent telling Marla about my meeting with Mr. Seymour in the
morning and the large contract my company hoped to land. We even talked a bit
about the state of the economy. When we were through with dinner, she insisted
on paying the bill. I objected, but she wouldn’t hear of it. “You’re my guest,
John,” she simply said.
As we left
the table, she wished me success with my meeting the next day. I thanked her
politely for dinner and for the time she had spent with me. Then she men-tioned
something about my receiving a phone call later that evening and was gone
before I could question her. Since I wasn’t expecting any phone calls, I was
puzzled. Perhaps I thought, I’d misunderstood and Marla herself would call
later.
I returned
to my room, relaxed and read for a while. Whenever I travel, I always take
along a few good books.
This trip was no exception, so I
stayed up and read while waiting for the phone call Marla had mentioned.
It was
getting late and I needed a good night’s rest to be fresh and ready to go in
the morning. No phone call yet. I definitely must have misunderstood Marla.
Think-ing of what the following day would bring, I put away my book, turned off
the lights and fell asleep. And as I slept, I dreamed.
In my
dream, I went to a nearby city. There was an appointment I had to keep so,
after locating the correct building, I went in. Behind a long desk sat a young
lady whom I assumed was the receptionist. She looked up at me and before I
could tell her the purpose of my visit she said, “Please wait. I must leave for
a few minutes,” and she was gone. While I waited for her return the phone rang.
I hoped it would stop, at least until she returned, but it kept on and on as if
determined to have me answer it.
When I
could no longer ignore the ringing I finally picked up the receiver, if only to
tell the other party that the receptionist would be back later. “Hello,” I
said. A friendly voice on the other end spoke, “Hi! Good morn-ing. May I speak
with Mr. Seymour, please?”
“I’m
sorry, sir. The receptionist just stepped away from her desk for a short while.
In fact, I’m awaiting her return,” I said.
“Please,
could you ask her when she returns to give Mr. Seymour a message for me?” he
asked.
“Why certainly,” I
said, nervously trying to help.
“Please
ask her to tell Mr. Seymour that Godfrey called. I’ve been talking with the
Wittersham account and they are extremely interested. Mr. Wittersham himself is
on his way over and will sign all necessary papers.” I agreed to convey his
message for which he thanked me and hung up. When the receptionist returned, I
gave her the mes-sage. She then asked me to follow her and we went into an
office where a distinguished looking gentleman was sitting at his desk. He rose
and introduced himself. “I’m Seymour,” he said. “Please sit.”
Mr.
Seymour told me that his company would buy our products if one of his largest
accounts, the Wittersham Company, agreed to distribute them. He told me a
little about Mr. Wittersham and how the Wittersham Com-pany grew from a small
beginning to become one of the largest in its industry. Wittersham, it seemed,
was from
the old school, conservative, had
little patience and was a hard man to deal with. The only topic that he was
ever interested in was the sea and he would literally spend hours talking about
it.
Mr.
Seymour was pleased that I had come. “Make sure you tell Wittersham about your
early days by the ocean,” he said, and all of a sudden the dream ended and I
was awake in bed. It was a most vivid dream and thinking about it kept me awake
for quite some time.
Finally,
it was morning and I got up and prepared for my meeting with Mr. Seymour. After
breakfast, I took a cab to his office. All the buildings were tall and
clustered together in what appeared to be the main commercial area of the city.
I paid my fare and walked into the building where Seymour’s office was located.
Without much waiting, I was ushered in to see him. The expression on my face
was one of pure astonishment when I discovered that the real Mr. Seymour and
the Mr. Seymour of my dream were exactly alike in physical features. I had
never seen this man before and the coincidence seemed remarkable.
We talked
for a while about my company’s new prod-uct. He would be willing to do some
business with us he
said, but that would depend on one of
his largest dis-tributors. There was a knock at the door and an assistant
rushed in and whispered to Mr. Seymour. Seymour smiled, looked at me and said,
“I’m told that old James Witter-sham just arrived and he’s insisting on seeing
me imme-diately.” He turned to the assistant who stood awaiting his reply and
asked her to show Mr. Wittersham in.
At first
glance, Wittersham hardly seemed friendly. He gave a quick nod when I was
introduced and started talking immediately. “Look now, Seymour. I don’t have
much time. Tell me about this product you want me to handle.”
The whole
scene appeared to be a replay of my dream from last night. I finally grew brave
enough to look Mr. Wittersham straight in the eye and say, “Sir, perhaps I
could be of some help. I’m from the company that manu-factures the machine
we’re discussing. If you could give me five minutes of your time, I’ll explain
why our prod-uct is so good.”
“Good? I don’t want good! Damn! I want the best.”
“I was just being modest. It’s the
best on the market.” Wittersham was a study in marble. Deep lines creased
his face as he looked from me to
Seymour and said, “Let’s get on with it then.”
I spent
the next few minutes explaining all the benefits of our product. Wittersham
appeared utterly unimpressed. Finally, in exasperation and in an effort to
clutch at straws, I remembered my dream about Wittersham and the sea and
concluded, “So you see, Mr. Wittersham, we make an excellent product.
Incidentally, I wish you would visit our manufacturing facilities on the East
Coast. Some lovely restaurants by the sea.” He quickly looked at me and asked,
“By the sea? Do you go there often?”
“Oh yes!” I responded, “I love to go down to the sea.”
“I wish
the ocean was closer to us,” he mused. Pursu-ing the only possibility afforded
me I said, “I was born not too far from the ocean. I spent many years of my
life a stone’s throw from the mighty Atlantic. I’d awake every morning to the
sound of breakers. I’d watch the sea change from a silvery white in the morning
to a deep dark blue in late afternoon.” Seymour was looking at me and I could
feel the frustration in his gaze as we discussed the sea. But the change on
Wittersham’s face was amazing. Gone was the scowl and he was now smiling.
“We must
speak more about the sea one of these days,” said Wittersham. “I myself am an
old salt.” Turning to Seymour, Wittersham continued, “Seymour, I like this
young man. I’ll be happy to have my company distribute your product.” Then he
abruptly got up, said good-bye and left.
I could
hardly contain myself. After so many months we’d finally landed one of the
largest accounts in this business. Seymour would now take on our product
because his largest distributor wanted it. The dark clouds of depression were
lifting and my spirit had already taken wings. I couldn’t wait to tell them
about it back home.
Seymour
and I continued our conversation but it was now in a lighter vein. We talked
about boyhood days when I stood on the shores of the Atlantic and gazed as far
as the eye could see. How the passing of tramp steamers with smoke stained
stacks would carry my thoughts to distant shores. How the tall ships with
billowing, white sails would conjure up visions of mystic climes and far-off
places. I told him of the many times I stood by a tree on the beach wondering
if there were other boys standing on other shores looking out and wondering,
just as I was doing.
I told him
it was the song of the sea that lured me from my birthplace, led me through
tropic isles with balmy breezes and finally set me down in the northeast
portion of the United States. He smiled as I mentioned the song of the sea and
how the thought of the trade winds still strongly calls to me, somewhat like the
singing of the sirens to a tired Ulysses.
Finally it
was time to leave. Seymour agreed to have all the necessary documents signed
and sent to me within a few days. He promised to work very closely with us to
make the project a success. We said good-bye and I took my leave of him and
returned to the hotel. It had been an exciting morning.
Marla was
waiting for me in the lobby. “I trust you had a productive morning,” she said
with a quick smile.
“Very
productive,” I replied, and as an after-thought mentioned that no one had
called me last evening.
“Of course you got the call,” she replied with a wink.
“No!
Nobody called me last night,” I insisted, some-what puzzled.
“Didn’t you
receive a call for a Mr. Seymour? And wasn’t a Mr. Wittersham discussed? And
didn’t the call contain
important information which you used
during your meet-ing today? Have you forgotten your dream?”
I almost
fell over. I’d told no one about my dream, not that there was anyone to tell,
anyway. Yet Marla knew about it. In fact, it seemed she knew exactly what dream
I was going to have that night. I stared at her in awe. She seemed in some ways
so similar to Gideon, especially in the way she said things. Noticing my
discomfort, she calmly said, “Don’t be alarmed. You’ll understand more soon.
Your flight leaves at six, so I’ll pick you up at four. This way, we’ll have
enough time to get you to your plane.” Before I could answer, she turned, waved
and was gone.
Puzzled
and intrigued by the turn of events, I went to my room, packed my things,
relaxed for a while to think over the events of the day and promptly fell
asleep, thus missing lunch. When I awoke, it was almost four o’clock, so I
quickly collected my things and went down to the lobby to check out and await
Marla’s arrival. I tried to put out of my mind any thoughts about her and
Gideon and their strange ways.
Marla was
punctual and we made it to the airport in record time. In spite of the rush
hour traffic, it almost
seemed as if vehicles moved out of
the way for us. Before saying good-bye, Marla mentioned she was extremely happy
to have been of some help to me, that any friend of Gideon’s was a friend of
hers and it wouldn’t be too long before all of us met again. I thanked her,
wished her well, and boarded my flight.
Much as I
tried to push Marla and Gideon out of my mind, thoughts of their strange ways
haunted me and raised a thousand questions during the flight. I finally managed
to engross myself in one of the in-flight maga-zines, knowing that in a few
hours I’d be home.
Chapter Four
O
|
n my way to the office the
following morning,
|
|
I couldn’t help but reflect on
the events of the
|
||
past few days. Without a doubt, the
trip was an amaz-ing success. I wondered whether Mr. Wittersham would have
agreed to distribute our products had it not been for the conversation about
the sea. And how would I ever have thought about talking of the ocean had it not
been for the meeting I’d dreamt about? In a never-ending
The sound
of a car horn woke me from my reverie. It was an old Volkswagen passing me on
the left. I briefly wondered why the driver sounded his horn, since I was
already in the right lane. As it passed me, however, I noticed the word
“GIDEON” on its license plate. My attention diverted, I almost ran into a
telephone post. This is crazy, I thought.
Within
minutes of my arrival at the office, the tele-phone rang. It was my private
line. The ringing startled me since it was still only seven in the morning and
I wasn’t expecting any calls so early. Only three people had the number for my
private line: one was Mardai and the other two were extremely close friends. I
picked up the hand-set. It was Gideon.
“How did you get this number?” I asked.
“Shouldn’t you first ask how I’m
doing?” he answered. Dutifully I asked, “How are you Gideon?” followed
quickly
by, “How did you get this number?”
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions and that’s why I
called. Listen, John, we’ll meet in
the park at lunch time and I’ll explain everything.” He hung up — as abruptly
as that.
At first,
I thought I’d ignore the incident and stay as far away from these people as possible,
but my curiosity got the best of me and I relented.
It was
almost noon when I left the office for the short walk to the park. Gideon,
hopefully, would be there to provide some explanations for the perplexing
things that had occurred. It was a lovely, sunny day. Cradled by the warmth, I
felt like sitting under a tree and practicing changing the shapes of clouds. I
found it both exciting and relaxing at the same time. You pick a small cloud at
first and then try to mold it in your mind into various vapory sculptures. As
you become more proficient, you choose larger and larger clouds. You may even
want to vaporize them entirely or create new ones where there weren’t any
before. It is amazing how easily it works with practice.
Arriving
at the park, I picked a spot under a large oak tree, where a bench was located.
I sat down and waited for Gideon while observing the birds and squirrels. It
was
peaceful and, strangely, almost
other-worldly beautiful. A blue jay was pecking at a piece of bread someone had
dropped, and the wind ran races through the growing grass. Except for me, there
wasn’t anyone else in the park. A voice interrupted, “Hope I haven’t kept you
waiting long.” Startled, I turned around and there was Gideon.
“Funny,
I didn’t see you approaching,” I said.
This time
he was dressed in a sailor’s uniform, as if he had been out sailing. He sat
down next to me on the bench and began biting into an apple he’d brought along.
“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked.
“No, I’m going to skip lunch today.”
“Are you sure? I have another apple, if you like.”
“No, thank you.”
We both sat for a while in silence before I blurted
out,
“How did you know about my trip? How
did you get my telephone number and anyway, who is Marla?”
“Slow
down, John. One question at a time. You’ve been wondering about how I know
certain things. Let me tell you. I know many things. You know them, too. However,
you just don’t remember them. Some of us remember much more than others. Think
again of how many things
you have known without ever being
able to figure out how you knew them.”
“Is that
all? Are you a psychic or something like that? You see things before they
happen? I know a lady who could do that.”
“That, I
am, too. But much more is involved. It’s one way of explaining it.”
“You’re
more than a psychic? Who are you? What are you?”
He looked
at me quizzically with a semi-pleased expres-sion on his bearded face. “Of
course I’m more than a psychic,” he said. “I am Gideon. I am who I am. I am I.”
I had come here for answers, not to listen to more riddles. Those were answers
any schoolboy could give. I was determined more than ever, to get to the bottom
of
this.
“Who is this Marla Tarkas?” I asked.
“Did you
like her? I hoped you would. An extremely fine energy form she is.”
“And an
extremely fine physical form, too. But who is she? What’s this business that
you people are involved in? Is this a cult?”
He became much more serious now. “No, John, not a
cult as you would think. There are
some of us who are involved in certain types of work that are different from
the ones you have been accustomed to. We are joined together by bonds that go
back into eternity. Marla is one. So am I and, of course, so are you.”
I stopped
him right there. “It’s fine for you and Marla to be . . . well . . . whatever
you are or want to be, but leave me out of this.” I was becoming somewhat
annoyed and uncomfortable with his answers, but he continued.
“You know me as Gideon. And that I
am. But a name doesn’t tell much. I am what is called, a ‘helper of man-kind.’
I come from way before your time and go far beyond your guess. I come from
anytime and anyplace and could go anywhere and anywhen.”
I sat
glued to the wooden bench. I had known that he was strange, but not this
strange. I never really took him too seriously before, but now he was dead
serious. On occasion, I did wonder how he knew things about me and my work that
I hadn’t told him. I’d heard about such people before. I had also not
discounted the possi-bility of meeting one, in fact, I had hoped that I would
someday. Yet, when one sits next to you on a park bench,
your initial reaction is to run away
— and as fast as possible. But sitting there with him, I actually felt an aura
of tremendous power around him and thought I should probably give this
encounter a bit more serious consideration.
“You speak
as if you’re from another world, Gideon. You also seem to have strange
abilities and powers. Why are you spending so much time with me? What do you
want from me?”
“My
abilities are no stranger than yours or anyone else’s. They may appear strange
to you because you do not understand them. When you understand natural law,
nothing is strange, nothing is a miracle. I have been around helping others for
ages. Or better yet, through-out time. There is an old earth saying that goes,
‘When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.’ You’re ready, so here I am.”
“Who? Me,
a student? I wasn’t looking for a teacher. I’ve had my share of teachers and
don’t want to take any more exams. As it is these days, I am already being
tested to the limit. Teachers and students imply tests.”
“So you think you’ve learned everything and have no
further need for teachers? If you’re
so brilliant, how come your financial empire is falling apart? Listen. All of
life is an examination, a learning and testing experience, if you will. You
examine and test yourself constantly. A little help now and then wouldn’t hurt,
you know. There are things I still can teach you. No, let me rephrase. There
are things I could lead you to learn. Things I could help you to remember.”
Part of me
really wanted to believe him. The other part was the scientific, analytical
part which was very cautious. That part said that he was crazy. And yet, I’ve
seen few men who appeared to be more sane than he.
“Show me
something — a small miracle or so, and I’ll believe what you’re saying.”
“Believe
and I’ll show you. You have things reversed, John. I see we have a lot of work
to do.”
In a quick
change of direction, I asked, “Where’s your car? Where are you parked?”
“There are
many other ways of traveling. I don’t really need a car.”
Again he
was lying, I thought. The first time I met him, he was in a car.
As if
reading my thoughts, he said, “When you saw me the first time, I did have a
vehicle. I needed something to get your attention. So the car, the engine
problem, the lifted hood . . . all props, all effects for your sake. You
wouldn’t have stopped to talk with me any other way.”
All this
in such a short time was becoming too much for me to absorb. As I mentioned
earlier, it had always been my desire to meet someone like him. In books and
dreams I had come across some, but here and now in a park in this small town?
This was an entirely dif-ferent matter. And why did he pick me? He still hadn’t
answered that to my satisfaction. I was quiet for a few moments.
Gideon
continued, “I have known you for eons, for mil-lennia. You are a challenge to
me. One part of you accepts these ideas totally and with full understanding.
Then there is the other part of you that sees only with eyes and hears only
with ears. That part tries to analyze, rationalize and compromise. You are a
man of many parts, Mr. H.”
Gideon’s
reference to knowing me for ages was a sur-prise, but I had read about such
things before and chose not to pursue it at this point. Not being in a big
hurry to
return to the office, I thought that
I’d listen to a little more of what he had to say.
He spoke
of seeing with the inner eye and of hearing with the inner ear. That all life
forms were connected to one another by invisible ties. That the universe was
like a spider’s web, where thought or action in one area affected the entire
fabric. I listened, fascinated by the new possi-bilities he brought to my mind.
Finally, he said, “It was good seeing you again, John. We will continue our
dis-cussion at a later date. Meanwhile, keep an open mind. I bid you a fond
adieu.”
I looked
at him and then at my watch. When I glanced up again, he was gone. It couldn’t
have been more than a second later yet, he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps I
had fallen asleep on the park bench and dreamed it all. But no! A few yards
away was an apple core he had left for the birds. It was time to return to the
more mundane aspects of life, so I got up and walked back to the office.
Chapter Five
The days rolled slowly by, summer
blending into autumn. Those lovely, lazy, fall days when all you want to do is
sit under a tree and dream of far-off horizons
and distant shores. I hadn’t seen or
heard from Gideon in a while and wondered what had become of him.
Although
he’d made a strong impression on me, I pre-ferred not to analyze it. I was
somewhat familiar with what
he’d said, since I had read books
about these ideas. I even had some friends who were considered to be
psy-chically gifted, but still Gideon had a different effect on me. He’d spoken
of the awesome potential of the human mind and of how we only used a small
portion of it. He’d pointed out that most people were content to be left in
their misery and that these same people refused to see the very light that
would change their misery to joy. I could almost hear his voice again as he
spoke to me that day in the park.
A close
friend of the family would be visiting soon. June Mareena Ridley was a very
special friend. She was a clairvoyant, a person who could see events before
they happened. At parties and get-togethers, she would do
“mind
stuff” that never ceased to amaze everyone.
I met her
many years ago when I was completing a gradu-ate business degree, part-time, at
a major university. I had just finished my last class of the evening and was
leaving when a poster on the bulletin board caught my attention. It stated that
the internationally renowned psychic, June M. Ridley, would be giving a lecture
and demonstration in the auditorium at 10:30 AM the following day.
Never
having met a real psychic, I thought it would be interesting to see one in
action. At that time, I was employed by a small manufacturing company and had
responsibilities in the production area. Because I was new at the job, it would
be difficult to leave during regular working hours to attend the lecture.
At work
the next morning, however, a nagging, uneasy feeling came over me. I had a
strong urge to attend the lecture. It was as if I was being pulled to go and
listen to June. The more I tried to overcome the feeling, the stron-ger it
became. Finally, I gave in to the compulsion. Giv-ing a feeble excuse to my
boss, I then drove as fast as I legally could to the university.
It was
shortly after 10:30 AM when I arrived and the lecture had already started. I
intensely dislike being late. Generally, I arrive for an appointment early and
would rather wait in a parking lot or reception area than be even one minute
late. This time, however, I couldn’t help it. I rushed into the auditorium.
Almost every seat was occu-pied. In the front row, however, there was a lone,
empty seat which I quickly took. It was so quiet in the room you could hear a
pin drop.
Standing
at the podium was an attractive, middle-aged woman of medium height. She looked
at me, smiled and continued her lecture. I felt the audience’s annoyance at my
late arrival and I angrily thought to myself, “I want to be late, OK?” But
after a few moments the meaning of what the woman was saying caught up with me.
She told us about her ability to see things before they occurred and how she
was able to give what are called “readings” to people. She explained that she
was born with the “gift of seeing,” that each and every human being had the
abil-ity to develop those same talents. She spoke of God, angels and spirits,
of different dimensions and different worlds. I was just beginning to think
that I’d wasted the entire morning when she decided to give us a demonstration
of her natural abilities.”
She asked
if anyone in the audience had ever seen or met her before in person. No one
had. Beginning with the back of the room, she pointed to people at random and
told them a little about themselves and their lives. To one especially nervous
woman, she said, “Your friend Elizabeth will be getting married soon and will
be moving out of the area. She is so concerned about
her sick mother that she needs all
the support you can give her. Do you understand what I mean?” The woman was
simply astounded. “Yes! Yes! That’s so true,” she stammered.
After a
few more “readings” she turned to a tall, dark man somewhere in the middle
rows. “The trucking busi-ness which you are about to start will become a
tremen-dous success,” she said. “Watch out, however, for one of your partners —
the short one with the beard and funny hat. He will try to take control of the
company away from you. Do you understand what I am talking about?”
“That’s
amazing,” said the man. “Absolutely amaz-ing. There’s no way you could know
about my trucking business and my partners,” and he kept shaking his head in
astonishment.
By this
time, I was becoming very excited about the possibility of my turn. June
pointed to a few others and gave each of them some important bits of
information, but totally ignored me. Perhaps, she’s disregarding me as
punishment for my tardiness I thought with paranoia, but I knew that couldn’t
be the reason.
Finally, because she’d been speaking for such a long
time, she asked if someone could
bring her a glass of water. Here was my opportunity to be noticed. Up I jumped
and rushed to the water fountain in the hallway. Using a paper cup, I hurriedly
brought June some water. Surely now she would notice me and tell me something
about my future. Again I was wrong. Not one word did she say to me.
As the
lecture came to an end, I sat there, progres-sively more dejected. After she
thanked everyone for com-ing, she looked at me and said, “Young man, I’ll see
you later. What I have to tell you wouldn’t be understood by anyone here, least
of all by you.” I was surprised, but happy to have the chance to speak with her
in private.
The
professor who organized the lecture arranged for me to see June a short while
later. It was one of the most amazing visits I’d ever had with anyone. Without
having seen me before or knowing anything about my past, she told me about my
job, my family and where and how I lived. She said that in less than six months
I would have a new job, but that I shouldn’t be concerned about it. It would be
the birth of something wonderful for me, but she said, like all births it would
be painful for a short
while. She continued for almost an
hour telling me about my past, present and future and touched on things that
only I could know. While she was speaking, she seemed to be in another world.
Her voice was soft and peaceful. Then as our meeting ended, she gave me her
phone num-ber and said, “I would really like to meet you again. You and your
wife should come visit soon.” And so, we did a few months later.
We soon
became very good friends. Many of the things she foretold began to take place.
In less than six months I’d lost my job when the company moved to another
state. Although I remained unemployed for a while before find-ing another
position, I used the time to start my own small, part-time business. Since
then, many things changed for the better. The company grew and diversi-fied. We
moved from our apartment into a house and then a few years later into a much
larger one.
Throughout
the years, June remained a constant friend and advisor. Every six months or so,
between her radio shows or television interviews, she would visit us for a week
or two. These visits were always very special. By this time, Mardai and I were
the parents of two beauti-
ful
children and June would spend hours with them. Little Malika was a favorite of
June’s and Jonathan would keep her busy for hours. So it was with joy and
excitement that we were, once again, awaiting June’s arrival. We had not seen
her in almost six months so, there would be much to talk about. We were now
totally used to her strange abilities and hardly questioned them at all. We had
certainly seen enough over the years to
know that
she had that rare “gift of seeing.”
I wondered
what Gideon was doing. With June’s arrival, I’d almost completely forgotten
about him. At the dinner table, June told us about her most recent television
inter-view. It was always interesting listening to her describe these events.
Although she would give readings to any-one, her clientele also included some
well-known public figures. Movie stars, politicians and high level business
leaders consulted with her on a regular basis.
A short
while later, with the children tucked into bed, June, Mardai and I retired to
the family room. Our house was built in the shape of an “H” with the sleeping
area occupying one side. The living rooms — there were two
— were
located in the center of the “H” and the kitchen,
dining room and family room were on
the other side. Because the family room was completely separated from the
bedrooms, it was possible for us to talk and laugh to our hearts’ content
without disturbing the children who were sleeping peacefully.
On one
side of the room was a fireplace and across from that stood a piano, a gift
from my wife’s parents. The piano bench was pulled slightly away from the
piano. We’d been talking for just a short while when June turned to me and
said, “The man sitting on your piano bench says that he’s here to help you
understand new things.” Having known June for such a long time we should have
been used to such comments, especially when only the three of us were there and
I was the only man present.
I looked
across and saw only an empty bench. “What man are you talking about, June?” I
asked.
She said,
“The one over there. He’s now looking at you and smiling.”
“Don’t do
that to us. You know I can’t see anyone sitting there.”
“He says
you know him, John, that you’ve met before. He has a beard and dark, piercing
eyes. He says he wants
to help you in your growth and
learning and that you’ve been ‘going through’ experiences instead of ‘growing
through’ them.”
That’s Gideon — the
description fit him perfectly.
“What’s his name, June?”
“I can’t get the exact
sound but it seems to be Simeon
. . . or no . . . it has a ‘G’. It
starts with a ‘G’. His name is Gideon. He said that you ought to know the
spelling because not too long ago you saw it on a license plate. He laughed as
he said that. He said that you ought to keep an open mind. He’s saying good-bye
now and that he’ll see you again soon. Now he’s gone.”
So, it was
Gideon again. But I couldn’t see him this time. Neither could Mardai. Only June
saw him. But then, she always saw things others could not. We discussed this
for a while and I recounted how I met Gideon and the events that occurred
thereafter. June seemed to under-stand and, like Gideon, asked that I keep an
open mind.
“It’s your
strict scientific background that causes you to stumble many times, John.”
Maybe she
was right. I was always trying to be logical about everything. In my college
days, I was trained as a
chemist and mathematician — labs,
research and analyz-ing. Perhaps, more than most, I insisted on seeing before
believing. And this, in spite of the fact that I knew and accepted June and her
abilities.
Yet, the
most successful times in my life were when I guided myself by the “still, small
voice.” Some people call it gut feelings, others call it intuition. The times
that caused me the most problems were those when I drowned out the inner voice
with logic and analysis. I really needed to learn how to re-program my
thinking. I decided then and there to balance logic and intuition, to let them
work together instead of against each other and to follow the inner guidance
more consistently.
Chapter Six
O n Sunday morning June departed for
home. We said our good-byes, promising to meet again soon. Her last words to me
were, “Remember, the
man on the piano bench will be in
touch with you, John. Listen to him and keep an open mind.”
In an
effort to clarify the many confusing thoughts in my mind, I decided to go for a
walk in the woods behind
my house. Since he likes nothing
better than to run free in the forest, I took Rajah with me. About three
hundred yards from the house if you go north by northwest, is a small, open
area in the middle of the trees and bushes. In that clearing is a giant rock
with many smaller rocks sur-rounding it. Legend was that centuries ago, a
mysterious tribe of American Indians lived in this area. Perhaps, I thought,
this was the place of their high worship ceremo-nies. We walked into the
clearing.
It was
quiet and peaceful by the rock. The morning sun streamed through the leaves and
branches of the tall trees falling directly on the little patch where Rajah and
I stood. The serenity seemed to reach back into time. It felt like long, long
ago in another country and another clime.
In my
youth, it was a joy for me to spend hours in the forests. And forests and
streams were plentiful. The little village where I was born couldn’t have
covered more than a few square miles. To the north was the Atlantic Ocean and
to the south were miles of misty, tropical rain forests for a boy to explore,
if he dared. And always there was the perpetual, subtle call of the ocean, a
sea song luring me away to distant places. The forests also sang, but their
songs carried the soothing comfort of
the familiarity of home. Home to me was this small fishing and farming village,
literally cut out of the jungle by my grandfather and a group of stalwart men.
Year after
year the village grew as the inhabitants con-stantly fought back the jungle and
the sea. It seemed that both wanted to reclaim the village as a prize. In time,
the village would become extremely prosperous, only to die years later after I
left. In my mind though, it was still my village and thoughts of those times
raced through my mind.
“It is in
remembering the times of your strength and overcomings that you can grow
stronger and overcome even more.” The voice thundered into my head and
inter-rupted my thoughts which roamed the village streets of long ago. Looking
around, I saw him leaning on a boul-der next to mine. He was dressed like a
story-book char-acter, bright colors, strange hat and cowboy boots.
“Gideon!
What are you doing here? Where did you come from?” The astonishment in my voice
startled Rajah.
“Just came
from a party. Some folks in another time and place.”
“I’m beginning to
believe you really do the crazy things
you talk about, like time
travel and nonsense like that.”
“You would
do well to believe the things I tell you, John. Time travel is far from being
nonsense. It’s done regularly by those who know how. There are some of us who
commute to other times just as simply and easily as you commute to other
places.”
“Were you in my house the other night?”
“Sitting
on your piano bench. You couldn’t see me, but your friend, June, did.”
“Why couldn’t I see you?”
“You were
looking only with your physical eyes. Had you looked with your inner eye, you
would have seen me too.”
“Things
like an inner eye and time travel seem so much like science-fiction to me. Do
you really think that people can travel through time? I mean. . . .”
He
interrupted me. “You already travel through time. One method should be obvious.
You were awake at six-thirty this morning and it’s almost ten-thirty now. You
have traveled almost four hours since you got up this morning.”
“That’s silly. Everyone does that.”
“Because it’s so obvious, no one ever observes the
process carefully. It’s taken for
granted. It’s called exist-ing or living. The other method is more fun, or more
fright-ening, depending on the encounters. You travel through time in your
dreams. There it happens automatically. The conscious mind is removed from its
monitoring functions. The other parts of you which accept the seemingly
mirac-ulous as natural function in their own time and space.”
“But that
happens without any rhyme or reason. Dream times are uncontrollable.”
“Not
quite, if you really understand how it works. What time does your watch read
right now?”
“Ten-thirty on the dot.”
“I’ll give
you a demonstration. Think of a time in your past that you’d like to see again,
if you could. Close your eyes and hold that thought in your mind for a few
seconds.”
I thought
of an incident in college many years ago. A well-known speaker was giving a
lecture in the audito-rium. Since I had enough time before the lecture started,
I decided to get a cup of coffee in the cafeteria. I was enjoying my coffee at
a table in the corner when a man walked up to me and asked, “May I join you?”
I replied,
“Of course,” as he sat down. Our conversa-tion had lasted for about an hour. I
wished I could go back to that scene for just a short while.
Gideon
said, “Let’s go and see your college incident again.”
He had
hardly spoken the words when I was overcome by an enormous swirling sensation.
When it stopped, I looked around. Imagine my surprise to find myself and Gideon
standing in the college cafeteria of long ago. Other students were standing
around and I began to worry about how I would explain our presence when Gideon
said,
“Don’t worry. They can’t see or hear
us. You’re visiting another time. They’ll only be able to see us if we want
them to. It’s better this way at first.”
He led me
to a small table across from where we were standing. Two people were drinking
coffee. Somehow, they seemed familiar.
“Don’t you
know who those people are, John?” asked Gideon.
I looked a
bit closer and was amazed to realize that the younger man was me — not me as I
am today, but the me I was many years ago in college. There I sat as a
college student — much younger and
thinner, with-out the gray in my hair — sipping coffee with another man. “We’re
looking back in time, John,” Gideon said.
“That’s the event you were thinking
of when we left your present-time situation. Do you recognize the other man?
Don’t you remember that he came to your table and sat with you for a while
before he went on to give his lecture?”
“That was
Dr. Martin Luther King! I didn’t know it when he first sat down, but by the end
of our conversa-tion, he revealed who he was.”
“Do you recall the
effect his conversation had on you?”
“How could
I ever forget? The compassion and the vision of that man! I’ll always remember
that.”
“You see,
we can visit events from the past and observe, remember and learn from
them.”
Fascinated,
I stood there watching and listening in on their conversation. Finally Gideon
said, “It’s time for us to leave here and go on to another time and place.”
A thought
struck me. “Could we have participated in their conversation, Gideon? I mean,
the me of then and the me of now conversing with each other?”
“Yes — but
there are certain rules one has to observe. For now, let’s go.”
He had
barely spoken when I felt the return of the swirling sensation. The entire
scene changed and we found ourselves standing on the bank of a river. A young
man dressed in Hindu clothing was approaching us.
“You’ll notice, John, that we can
participate in this event,” said Gideon.
The man
walked up to us, tossed a smile at me and spoke to Gideon. “Hello! They told me
you’d be here soon, so I hurried to meet you.” Gideon seemed to know him and
introduced him with the words, “My friend Krishna, of Hindu mythology.”
The two of
them continued a lively conversation as we approached the water’s edge. It was
barely sun-rise as I stood on a large flat rock looking out over the calm waters.
It was a beautiful morning as the sun reflected waving patterns of molten gold
across the water’s surface.
“What river is this?” I asked Krishna.
“It’s a
tributary of the river Ganga — what you would call the Ganges. In time, it will
become the holiest of
rivers for Hindus, just as the Jordan
will become the holi-est of rivers for Christians and Jews alike.”
Krishna
walked over to the rock where I stood. He placed his foot on it and then moved
aside. As I glanced down, I saw a footprint appear on the stone where there was
none before.
“Did you do that?” I asked
He smiled
mischievously. “They’ll speak about it for generations to come. Yea! For
thousands of years, until they learn to direct their footsteps toward the light
which beckons to all of us.”
“Don’t the
Hindus speak of you as the most important manifestation of their god, Vishnu? I
mean, in the twenti-eth century, they actually worship and sing praises to you.
How do you feel about that?”
“We are
all manifestations of God. We were created in the image of God. But the sad
part is whenever any one person points the way to a better and more fulfilling
life, his followers very quickly forget the way and start wor-shipping the
way-shower.”
“That’s an
interesting thought,” I replied. “Sort of like worshipping the messenger while
ignoring the message.”
“Gideon is
a close friend of mine,” said Krishna. “We’ve known each other for eternity.
He’s agreed to work with you and teach you some of the eternal truths. Pay
atten-tion to him and you’ll find that you’re listening to your-self. Life is a
joyous adventure. Start to enjoy it”
As I stood
on the banks of this holy river, a sudden peace enveloped me. I felt at one
with the world, at one with the universe. Perhaps, this was what was meant by
“atonement,” or, “at-one-ment.” Then
I heard Gideon saying to me, “We must return now.” We said good-bye to Krishna
and then that swirling sensation returned again. In the blink of an eye, we
were transported back to the woods behind my house.
My watch
still read ten-thirty. Apparently totally uncon-cerned, Rajah remained exactly
where we’d left him. Gideon stood next to me. “Sit down,” I said, motioning
towards a large rock, “perhaps, you could explain some of this to me.”
I
stretched out on the grass under the tall trees and awaited Gideon’s reply.
Chapter Seven
G ideon settled on a rock and wriggled
somewhat to make himself more comfortable. “Time is like the tides,” he said,
“or more correctly, like a river. There
are currents, white and dark water
and backwash. Human beings have been conditioned from birth to believe in
sequential time, that is, time as moment after moment. By the ripe old age of
five or six, one has generally forgotten
the intricacies of the nature of time
and space and thus is primed to live in a world where tomorrows come after
todays and yesterdays lead to todays.”
As much as
one part of me wanted to understand what he was saying, another part was firmly
anchored in the logical thinking processes. “Stop, Gideon, I don’t really think
all that is important. In fact, I’m relatively comfort-able in this time slot.
What with television, advanced computers, other electronic marvels, space
probes to dis-tant planets and so forth, who knows? This time and place could
still be fun.”
“If you
don’t blow yourself up first, or die of asphyxia-tion because there is no more
breathable air. No clean water to drink because your rivers and streams have
been poisoned by chemicals.”
“Oh it’s
not that bad. At least not, yet . . . , I think. But let’s get back to this
‘time’ thing. We visited different times, didn’t we?”
“Yes, indeed we did.”
“Tell me
about the classic case, Gideon. Suppose I had gone back to the time when my
great grandfather was a boy. Suppose we met, there was a fight and he was
killed. Just suppose, OK? Would I be
here, now? Would I be there or anywhere? Explain that. How could I have been
born if my great grandfather had died as a boy? Ha! Got you on that one!”
“Pretty
clever, but still at the kindergarten level. In that probable lifetime you
would not have lived as such, but in another and another and a hundred thousand
others you live and are as vibrant and alive as you are here.”
“You mean
that there are thousands of me living in thousands of different situations in
thousands of worlds? Come on, Gideon.”
“Let’s not
get too involved in this matter of ‘time,’ John. It’s rather an advanced
concept. Suffice it to say that we, you or anyone with some practice could
travel to differ-ent times and different places. Manage your thoughts and you
determine your existence in space and time.”
“That’s
fine for space and time but I’m getting hun-gry. I can’t take you home and
introduce you to my family. What would I say? ‘Here, meet my good friend Gideon
who dresses strangely, travels through time and knows Krishna’?”
“Your family wouldn’t be able to see me at this time.
And as for being hungry, look at your
watch. What time is it?”
I glanced
at my watch and saw that it was still only ten-thirty, although we had been
talking for what seemed like hours, not counting the “trips” we had made. It
felt as if time hadn’t passed. I looked at him and said, “You certainly
couldn’t stop time, could you? Not even you could do that.”
“No. All
we did was center ourselves in an area of non-movement of time and so it
appeared that time stood still. Not to worry though. All is well with you and
your family and the world, if you will. No side effects.”
I looked
across to Rajah. He was sleeping peacefully. Next to him was a picnic basket.
“What’s that, Gideon?” I asked, pointing.
“Just
lunch. You said you were hungry, didn’t you? I brought it with me this morning.
Let’s have some.”
Strange,
but I hadn’t noticed the basket before. We helped ourselves to a delicious
lunch while Gideon con-tinued his commentary.
“It’s
really simple,” he said. “In fact, very simple when you understand it. Each
person exists in many dimen-
sions and many systems. Each one
inhabits the entire universe, but most times, is focused in only one tiny spot
— the here and now. But that’s
precisely the most impor-tant spot in life, the here and now. From that spot,
each one influences his entire future and past.”
“You know,
Gideon, our church fathers would string you up for saying such things. What
with all this non-sense talk about being born again, or having lived before?
Surely, you don’t believe that. . . .”
He
interrupted me again. “You live as many lifetimes as are needed on earth. In
each lifetime, you learn and strive to be better than the one ‘before,’ if you
accept time as sequential. If you accept time as eternally now, then you exist
in many systems and dimensions simultaneously.”
It was a
rather pleasant and ‘learningful’ morning. Brim-ming with food-for-thought,
Gideon’s repertoire had offered me some extraordinary perspectives to consider.
It was, however, time to return to normal and to experi-ence present-time and
people as I knew them.
“Don’t be
too hard on yourself, John. You’ve actually done quite well. I am, as you now
can see, an other-worldly being. So are all of you on earth. You’re all just
visitors
Chapter Eight
The remainder of Sunday was enjoyable.
I have little trouble with weekends. It’s the time between weekends that
sometimes gives me problems. All too soon Monday arrived. The ride to the
office was taken up with reflections on the past few days. Although we realized
we’d be seeing her again soon, June’s visit had been most
welcome,
but much too short.
Gideon
still amazed and intrigued me. There was no doubt in my mind that he had access
to considerable information and power. I accepted some of his concepts such as
time travel as distinct possibilities, especially since I was a party to some
of those journeys with him. But again, some of his ideas were difficult to
reconcile as I struggled with my “reality thinking.”
As usual,
I was the first one to arrive at the office. As I walked in turning on the
lights, he was waiting for me, sitting on the chair across from my desk.
“Gideon! Not you again!” I exclaimed.
“It seems
as if you’re getting bored with me, John,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
“No, of
course not,” I hastened to assure him. “Not bored, just amazed that you always
appear at the strang-est times.”
“That’s
good to know. I came because I felt that you’re going to need to see a bit more
clearly today.” He did not smile this time and was more serious than I’d ever
known him to be.
“What do you mean, Gideon?”
“You’re afraid,” he said, “for your employees, your
family, your friends and others. You
think you’ve done all you could to make things better and yet, you feel that
you can’t see the light.”
“You seem
to be reading my mind again, Gideon. What you say is true — but I’m only
human.”
“Only
human, John? Only human?” He was intense as he continued. “You use that as an
excuse. You’re much more than just human. You and everyone else are more divine
than human. You were all created in the image and likeness of the First Force,
the Almighty. Don’t you remember the numerous legends of creation?”
“Yes, of
course. So what? I’m human or divine or both. It really doesn’t matter. I’m
still concerned about myself and my people and because of my concern, I
sometimes fear and tremble. Is it so terrible to care for others? Is it a sign
of weakness to be concerned about your fellow human beings? What’s so terrible
about that?”
“No, not
the caring, John. The worrying is what gets you. You must make a distinction
between caring and worry-ing. You care, so you try to make everything work
right. When nothing seems to work right, you worry and become fearful and
because of the fear, you short-circuit yourself.”
“In what
way or manner, O Great One?” I asked some-what sarcastically.
“You see,
John, the rules are really quite simple. The Creator made everything and all of
us. We, also, are cre-ators. We are endowed with many of the qualities of the
Creator, but most times, these qualities are so deeply buried that they’re
hardly ever recognized or used.”
“Yes, Lord
and Master, please continue. Your humble servant listens.”
He ignored my mocking attitude and continued.
“Worry is a form of directed energy,
John. Worry removes your focus from everything else and directs it in a
con-centrated manner on that which you fear. Worry and fear then join to bring
into your existence the very thing which you feared.”
“So, how do I stop worrying? Tell me that!”
“You stop
worrying when you understand the univer-sal laws that make things work. One of
those laws says that whatever you see in your mind — good or bad — if you
believe it, it will come to pass. Creation starts in your mind with your
thoughts and imagination. Cause and effect world, John. Use insight and you’ll
see right.
What you sow, you shall reap. As you
think and believe, so it becomes.”
“Good
sayings, Gideon. I know most of those things but how do I use that knowledge in
a practical way? How do I use it to improve my present situation?”
“By
centering yourself and looking within you. This is an inside job, you see. The
answers are all within you. Not outside, not in someone else and not even in
the one you call God.”
That
puzzled me for a second. “I thought that God could do everything. Why wouldn’t
He have the answers? More important, why wouldn’t He give us some of those
answers, especially when we pray to Him so earnestly?”
“Because
you don’t understand God and the methods He gave us for finding answers. We
don’t have to beg or plead. We only have to relax and become quiet and to
believe in ourselves and the abilities inherent in us. Then we’d begin to
receive answers in the form of ideas. We must believe and trust
the process. God doesn’t withhold our good from us. However, He does want us to
learn by discovering the process. Often we’re just unable to see that we
already have — or can have — what we want.”
This
discussion set me to thinking about God. Human-ity does seem to have so many
gods. The Muslims have one, the Christians another, the Jews yet another and on
and on. Some have more than one. Various religions locate their gods in places
such as temples, mountains, streams and skies. Legends speak of greater and
lesser gods.
Even I
have a god with whom I was vaguely acquainted. I had learned in Sunday school
that He lived in a place called heaven. He seemed so far removed from everyone
and everything that only popes and priests, pastors and preachers, kings,
emperors and presidents had access to Him. One would lift beseeching hands and
cry in pain to this god ,but most times, no answer. I thought I’d throw a curve
at Gideon.
“Hey,
Gideon, you know so much. Tell me about God. Who and what is He? Why doesn’t He
hear when people cry to Him? Tell me if you can.”
Without
blinking an eye, Gideon answered, “Your relig-ions are like schools in
different countries. They teach you basically the same thing but in different
languages and in different ways. Some schools may stress art or history, while
others may place more emphasis on chem-
istry or math. But there’s
a common thread in all of them
— they lead to the same place, the
Temple of Wisdom and Light. So God by any other name is still God. The cry of
the ancient Hebrews, ‘Hear, O Israel, the Lord thy God is One,’ is as true now
as it was then, or ever will be.
“God is
not in a place or time. God is here and now. Heaven or hell is here and now.
God does not sit on a golden throne surrounded by angels who play harps or fly
around all day. If you think that is what heaven is, you’d better start taking
music lessons as well as flying lessons. God is in each person, in each life
form, in each and every part of creation. God is no more or less present in you
than in another life form at the edge of the galaxy.
“And God
listens and cares. He’s even concerned about the little sparrows and the lilies
of the field. Wouldn’t He be concerned about you, or for that matter, me?”
I was
sorry I brought it up. We could talk about that subject for days. Again I
changed the direction of the con-versation. “Why don’t I see clearly what must
be done for my company? Is it necessary that all this, which took a lifetime to
build, be torn apart or destroyed?”
Patiently Gideon responded, “If it must be that way
for your greater good, then accept
it. If it doesn’t have to be that way, then that’s fine too. But you’re the one
who has to decide. Prepare yourself for that which you’re seek-ing. Know that
what you’re seeking is also seeking you. You want a successful corporation?
Then prepare for it. Know that the forces of the universe will rush in to bring
you what you want, provided of course, you want it badly enough and believe
that you can get it. Or, better yet, deserve it.
“All
problems on earth are of three types: health, money and relationships. Look at
any problem and it will fall under one or a combination of these three
categories. There are proper and correct methods one must use to solve a
problem, just as there are to drive a car or to build a house.
“Now, I
must leave you, John. There are many more things to discuss, but we’ll meet
again soon. Inciden-tally, I’d like to introduce you to a good friend of mine
who may be of some help to you. He has an office in the Big City. When you have
a slow day we could visit him. Would you like that?”
“Certainly. If he
could help us with this financial thing,
I would go to the ends of the earth
to meet him.” Mis-chievously I added, “Even if he’s half as strange as you, it
would be fun.”
“I’m sure
you’ll like him. Let’s go soon,” he said. He stood up and smiled, “Have a good
day, John.” Then he was gone. It would be weeks before I’d see him again.
Chapter Nine
It was true that our company had
finally managed to acquire a large contract, but things still weren’t going the
way we’d have liked. Although everyone was working
very hard the results weren’t
comparable to the efforts. Additional financing was urgently needed. Without
these funds, the company would be unable to increase produc-tion to meet the
necessary requirements of the contract.
There was even the possibility of
having to dissolve the corporation, but I didn’t like to think about that.
At our
last meeting, Gideon had mentioned that he wanted me to meet with one of his
friends in the Big City. If there was a possibility that it could lead me to
the proper contacts for a business loan, I was even more interested than
before. If nothing came of it, at least I wouldn’t have left any stone
unturned. It might even turn out that the meeting would be enjoyable and there
were so few fun things I did these days. I thought I’d call Gideon and see if I
could make arrangements to go with him soon to visit his friend.
As I
searched my desk for his business card, the phone rang. Of course, it was
Gideon. “I see that you’re ready to go to the Big City,” he said. “I’ll meet
you in your parking lot at nine-thirty tomorrow morning.” Without waiting for a
reply, he hung up.
At
nine-thirty the next morning, I was walking toward my car in the parking lot
when I spotted him. He was standing at attention near my car, waiting for me.
Few things surprised me about this man these days. “Good morning, Gideon. Ready
to go?” I asked.
“Sure,
let’s go. I’m positive you’ll have a fine morning, John,” he replied.
As we drove out of the
parking lot, I jokingly asked,
“Why do we have to use a car, Gideon?
I mean, you’re able to traverse space and time. Let’s do it the easy way. Let’s
arrive in the Big City instantaneously and avoid all the traffic.”
Those dark, piercing eyes narrowed as he answered.
“I’ll
tell you a story.”
“Once upon
a time in the ancient land of Bharat, there lived a Guru and his bramcharyas
or, as you would call them, disciples. Each disciple was supposed to pick as
his test a very difficult task to perform. He was to work exceed-ingly hard for
several years to perfect himself in the task that he, himself, had set. There
was this one disciple, some-what brighter than the others yet, so very shy and
timid.
“ ‘And
what task have you set for yourself, my son?’ asked the kindly Guru.
“ ‘Master,’
answered the disciple, ‘I want to be able to walk on water. I will practice
until I’m able to do it. To walk on water — that is my goal.’
“Years passed and under the gentle guidance of the
Guru, most of the disciples
accomplished what they had set out to do. Finally, the shy disciple approached
the Guru. ‘Master,’ said he, ‘I have toiled and practiced with-out ceasing, lo,
these many years. See that city across the river? I can now walk on the water
and go over to the city. Master, I have overcome. I can walk on water.’
“Looking
at the young disciple the old master sadly asked, ‘Why did you not take the
boat? You would have saved so much time.’ ”
“John,
when you know you can walk on water, you generally can take the boat.”
Somewhat
unclear about the main point of the story, I mumbled an inaudible “Oh,” but
didn’t ask for an expla-nation. I don’t always like to listen to riddles or
parables and Gideon certainly had a lot of them. I prefer plain talk. I asked
about the people we’d be meeting today.
“I made all the necessary arrangements,” he said.
“You’re
expected.”
“Are they business associates of yours?”
“Business associates and friends, also.”
“Do you
think I’ll be able to get some help for my company?”
“A definite
possibility,” he replied.
“You know
we need a loan to continue our operations. Maybe they’d be willing to help us
out in this situation?”
“Perhaps.”
He seemed
to be in a quiet, pensive mood this morn-ing, but his clipped answers were
beginning to annoy me. Not wanting to appear rude, I gave up any further
at-tempts to make conversation. I was thinking only of my-self and my problems,
forgetting that he, too, could be occupied with problems of his own. But then
again, he shouldn’t have any problems, not with the type of infor-mation and
power he seemed to possess.
He broke
into my thoughts saying, “Even God has problems. It’s the way one goes about
solving them that’s interesting.”
“God
shouldn’t have problems, Gideon. I mean, it doesn’t make sense. God can do
anything.”
“True, but
even God doesn’t like boredom. To exist without challenges would be boredom at
its ultimate.”
He became
quiet again, so I left him to his thoughts for a while. The drive wasn’t too
unpleasant. Usually, I don’t like driving into the Big City. Being there is one
thing, but
trying to get there is quite another.
There are few things more unpleasant than being stuck in traffic for hours.
A flock of
gulls had been flying above and to the front of the car since we left the
parking lot. To amuse myself, I counted them. There were seven. The freedom of
flight, I thought. Gideon broke the silence. “A flock of gulls by day and a
pillar of fire by night,” he said.
“What?”
“The
ancient Israelites, you know, were led in their wanderings in the wilderness by
a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.”
“Three
cheers for the Israelites,” I mumbled, again having no idea of what he was
talking about.
In a short
while, we arrived in the Big City. It was, as always, impersonal. We parked the
car and walked through the never-ending crowds to a waiting cab. Gideon handed
the driver an address and a few minutes later we stepped out in front of a tall
building on an obscure side street. We walked up to the door, entered the lobby
and were soon on our way to the thirty-third floor.
We stepped
out into a long hallway. I took a few moments to straighten my tie and comb my
hair. At times
the winds of the Big City could be
exceedingly fierce. At the end of the hallway was a large door bearing a sign
that said: “G & M Enterprises, Inc., World Headquarters.”
“These are
the people you work with, right, Gideon?” He was a bit more relaxed now. “Yes,”
he said. “It’s about time you got to meet my boss. There’ll also be
another
friend of mine here. You remember Marla?”
“Marla
will be here, too? Oh yeah, I forgot that she works for this company, too.
It’ll be good to see her again.” There was that twinkle in his eye and I knew
that he was back to his old self, again. He pushed open the door as we walked
into a reception area that was both simple and, at the same time, elegantly
decorated. There were paintings of strange symbols on the walls. A receptionist
looked up and smiled. “Hello, Gideon, and welcome to
our
office, John,” she said.
“You look well, Mary,” replied Gideon.
“Won’t you
sit down, please. Marla is here already. It will only be a few minutes,” said
Mary.
In a short
while Marla joined us and we renewed old acquaintances. She seemed quite
pleased to see me there. The receptionist left for a few moments and when she
returned,
she announced, “The chief will see you now.” She escorted us through the main
area to an office with a sign on the door that read: “President and Chairman of
the
Board.”
“Gee, Gideon, you know
the big boss,” I teased.
As the
door opened he said, “You’ll enjoy this meet-ing, John.”
We stepped
into an office thickly carpeted in celestial blue. The office was luxuriously
decorated and contained several lush plants dramatically placed throughout the
well-lit room. On the far side was a large, ornate desk behind which sat a
rather imposing figure. We walked over and Gideon proceeded with the
introductions.
“John, I’m
pleased to introduce you to our chief execu-tive officer. He is president and
chairman of the board of G & M Enterprises.” I noticed a tremendous
respect, but no fear in Gideon’s voice as he continued, “I want you to meet
God.”
For a
moment I was stunned. Then I remembered that many people refer to their bosses
as “god,” and so, I quickly regained my composure. I looked over to the person
sit-ting behind the desk. He seemed to be middle-aged,
possessing a powerful presence about
him. His hair was jet black and his eyes dark and piercing, somewhat like
Gideon’s. Yet, as I looked at him a little more carefully, his hair now
appeared to be lighter and his eyes blue. Must be some trick of the light, I
thought.
He rose
from his chair, shook my hand and said, “Glad you could come. My thanks to
Marla and Gideon for getting you here. I’ve been waiting for your visit for a
long time.”
I mumbled
something to the effect that it was also good to be here and that I’d been
looking forward to this meet-ing. The one known as “God” was informally dressed
— not even a tie — although his shirt appeared to be expertly tailored and
there was an unrecognizable insignia over the right pocket. He motioned for us
to sit and asked whether we’d care for something to drink. None of us wanted
anything, so I sat anxiously waiting for someone to start the conversation. My
entire being was focused on getting some financial help for my company.
Gideon
spoke up. “John, you don’t seem to understand. This isn’t a joke. You’re in the
presence of God. I mean,
The God with a capital ‘G’.” I started feeling
queasy. It was
impossible for anyone to be speaking
face-to-face with God. That only happened in movies and books, but not in real
life. Reason dictated that this was all nonsense. Yet, there was a part of me
that said it was all right for me to believe, at least for the time being, that
there was more to this than met the eye. My curiosity prevailed and I decided
to accept all this for a while to see where it would take me.
God spoke
this time. The voice was neither too high nor too low and resounded with a
vibrant life force. “John,” He said. “Even now, you still don’t believe that I
am who they say I am, right?”
“Well, some things are very hard to believe,” I
replied.
“I
understand. However, make yourself comfortable because we’ll be here for a
little while. Excuse me. I’ll be back in a few seconds.” With that he got up
and left the room.
At that
moment the words from Alice in Wonderland came to mind — “I’m mad. You’re mad.
We’re all mad here.” Perhaps, I was just dreaming.
Chapter Ten
M
arla and Gideon just sat there staring at me when the door closed. Finally
Marla asked,
“Well,
what do you think, John?”
“Think?
What do I think? This is probably the most inconceivable thing that has ever
happened to me and you’re asking me what I think? It’s impossible for me to
think at all.”
“Accept
this with an open mind,” said Gideon, “and you’ll find there are different ways
to approach life.” There was a tremendous sense of peace and joy when he was
near and, yet, I still could not consciously bring myself to believe that he
was The God. He walked over to his chair and sat down. Looking me straight
in the eye, he said, “John, you don’t really believe all of this, do you?”
It was
more a statement than a question.
“Well, I must admit that I’m puzzled.”
“I am
God. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, First Cause, Jehovah,
Yahweh, Yeshua, Allah. I am I, Lord God Almighty, The First Force. What did you
expect to see? What do you think God should look like? An old bearded man
sitting on a throne? Dozens of angels dancing around him, her or it? God is
God and is all things to all people.”
He gave
the appearance of a man totally in control of himself. His voice and tone were
not in the least reprimand-ing, but rather compassionate and kind. I didn’t
know what to say so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“How come,” I asked, “I’m here with
you, when there are many others more deserving of an audience than I?”
“That’s
one of the problems,” he said. “Almost everyone thinks that I’m unreachable,
that I only speak to special people at special times. Listen carefully: Everyone
is spe-cial to me. I speak to everyone, but not all listen. I appear to
everyone in many ways, but not all see me. Do you remember that little child
you gave some money to the other day? That was me speaking to your heart and
feelings. Do you remember the time you stopped and helped an old man fix a flat
tire on the bridge? That was me again.”
“You mean that you care
about little things like flat tires?”
“Of course
I care. And there are no little things, only people who tend to look at things
and call them little. Take a rose, for example.” And as he said that, as if by
magic, a beautiful rose appeared in his hand. “Consider its intrica-cies. Surely,
not a little thing. I love roses. They brighten everyone’s life. In fact, I
love everything I’ve created.”
“Well, if
you are God, why do you have an office in the Big City? How is it that you’re
president and chairman of the board of G & M Enterprises, anyway?”
“G & M
stands for God and Man. It’s my ‘earth’ com-pany. What better place to have an
office than in the Big City? We have branches in almost
every city. In every town and village you can find us. We also have a number of
subsidiaries. Marla and Gideon are from the corporate office. Marla is in P.R.
— ‘people recycling,’ in this case and Gideon is a trouble-shooter — special
projects. You’re one of his projects.”
“It sounds
so business-oriented, as if the entire world were a giant corporation.”
“I compare
it to a business for your understanding. You understand the corporate world so,
I speak to you in terms of what you understand. You see, I’m in business
— the
‘God Business’ or, looking at it another way, the
‘Good
Business’.”
If this
was God, I thought, then I’ve been granted a rare privilege and should take
full advantage of it. Actu-ally, I was beginning to take him seriously.
His voice
broke into my thoughts. “You need proof that I am God. Yet, no matter what
proof you’re given, you’ll always find there’s an element of doubt. That doubt,
as to whether you did the right thing, is a result of your having the power of
choice. Let me tell you this. After I had made the earth and all that was in
and on it, I too,
“Did Gideon get his
powers from you?”
“Yes, and
so did you. Now, let me show you something. Think of a place where you’d like
to be.”
I thought
for a few seconds and then blurted out, “How about the Serengeti plains of East
Africa?”
“Good. You
will see . . . ,” and before the sentence was finished, I found myself on a
grassy plain with knotted shrubbery covering the landscape. There were the
acacia trees of tropical Africa. Wildebeests, giraffes and elephants dotted the
terrain. The transi-tion was so instantaneous that I caught my breath. But then
again, didn’t Gideon take me to other places and times? Surely, the one who
called himself God could do the same.
Suddenly,
there was a movement in the tall grass to my right. My previous trips to the
Serengeti plains had been taken using more conventional fare such as airplanes,
enclosed jeeps and native guides. This time I was all alone except for the
wildlife around me. Then there was a rus-tling sound. A chill went down my
spine. I turned around
to find, facing me, not more than
thirty paces away, the largest, black-maned lion I’d ever seen.
It stared
at me through fiery eyes that froze the very marrow in my bones. He crouched
ready to spring and I knew, without a doubt, that this situation was not
conducive to longevity. Paralyzed with fear, I couldn’t move. I just stood
there rooted to the ground. With an earth-shattering roar, the lion sprang. I
felt the hot breath of the carnivore just inches away. My arms raised
instinc-tively — then a blur, and I was back in the office with Marla, Gideon
and God.
“Don’t be
afraid,” said God. “You’re not in any dan-ger. Enough of this.”
Although
still visibly shaken from my frightful ordeal, I continued staring at him.
Suddenly, it seemed as if I were looking through different eyes than mine, as
if new worlds were opening before me. I felt the presence of an extremely
powerful and loving force. And then, as if by a miracle, I began to feel that I
was looking at the face of God. I fell to my knees overcome with awe and
whispered, “Forgive me, Lord. Although I didn’t believe at first, now I know
that You are truly my Lord and my God.”
“Get up,” He said,
with warmth and love in His voice.
“No need to fall on knees and stuff
like that.” I raised myself as God continued. “It’s easy to set up barriers and
retain those barriers for a lifetime. You’ve all built walls, not only nation
against nation, but neighbor against neigh-bor, friend against friend. You’ve
even built walls between yourselves and me. In your present state, you’ve
forgot-ten the joy and bliss of being close to me yet, if you search your
deepest memories, you may have vague recollections of what it was like when the
sons and daughters of God danced with joy on the morning of creation.
“This
isn’t the only place where life forms exist. Look up into the sky some clear
night and see the millions of stars — universes within universes. Look up and
you’ll know that you are not alone in that vast expanse you call space. There
are others, many others and all of them are my children.”
While God
spoke I sat motionless in absolute silence. I felt such peace and calm that I
forgot about my corpora-tion and its financial troubles. Nothing seemed
impor-tant except to sit there with Him and listen.
God continued, “The
universe is dynamic and changing;
it continues to grow. Creation never
stopped; it will con-tinue forever. Wherever you are is the center of
the uni-verse and the mid-point of eternity. Nothing is static. All things
change. But I do not change. The part of you that is Me and the part of
Me that is you will forever remain changeless. So, even though seasons change
and worlds change, I, God, do not change.”
“Lord, I’m overwhelmed,” I said.
“You can
interrupt me at anytime and ask ques-tions. Don’t be afraid to speak. Because I
am God, I don’t become offended or feel insulted. I wish my children would
interrupt me more often. Now, as I was saying, in this world of change you have
chosen to be here. . . .”
“Chosen to
be here, Lord? How could we possibly have chosen to be born?”
“Do you
think for one instant that you appeared out of nothingness into the body you
currently have? No, you existed before and will continue to exist after your
body is gone. And as to the choosing process. . . .”
I
interrupted Him again. “Pardon me, but are you say-ing that we were living,
thinking beings before we were
born? And that we chose to be here? I
mean, how come we don’t remember?”
“First,”
God answered, “if you insist on the framework of time as you understand it — in
a before and after con-tinuum — yes, you were conscious energy beings before
this earth life.
“Because
of the challenges and opportunities for growth and experimentation in an earth
life, many chose to come here. You chose the country, the period of history,
your parents and even your friends. You made an agreement prior to your birth.
The agreement took place at levels that you don’t consciously remember. But the
higher self of you, the self which knows me well, understands and remembers.
“If your
conscious self would listen to your higher, inner self, you’d have the answers
to many of your questions. You’d be guided in times of stress and comforted in
times of sorrow. It is I who speak to you with the still small voice. Even in
your loneliest moments you’re never alone. Even in the depths of the furnace of
affliction I’m there with you.”
“Lord, I
have a million questions,” I said. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Why don’t
we continue our conversation in a place you’d really enjoy? Would you like to
go on a short trip? I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Certainly,”
I said. “Wherever You go, I want to go.” God looked at Gideon and Marla and
nodded. Imme-diately I felt a shimmering sensation and our surround-
ings
disappeared.
Chapter Eleven
As the shimmering stopped, I glanced
around. We were on the deck of a large ship with no land in sight. As far as
the eye could see there was water — blue-
green and beautiful. The gentle wind
and serenely rolling waves were soothing therapy. God smiled at me and said,
“I thought a change of scenery would
do you some good, especially since you love the ocean so much.”
The vessel
was a tall ship replete with sails and rigging. There didn’t seem to be anyone
else aboard and I won-dered who was sailing it. “Where is the crew, Lord? Such
a large ship must surely need a crew.”
“Not this
time, John,” He said. “We’re using a form of energy called ‘celestial power’
for navigation. It’ll be a few more centuries before your scientists discover
its existence.”
We pulled
up a few deck chairs and sat facing the wind. It was a delightful setting, to
say the least. How quickly one becomes accustomed to miracles, I thought.
“There really aren’t
any miracles, John,” God said softly.
“If you understand universal laws,
you’d understand so-called ‘miracles.’ Everything works according to universal
laws. Know the laws and your knowledge becomes power. Yet, even power requires
the use of wisdom.”
Next to us
on a small table sat a basket brimming with fruit. There was also a pitcher
filled with juice. Gideon reached over and poured himself a glass. “Try some,
John, it’s good,” he said. He poured me a glass of the most delicious fruit
juice I had ever tasted. Marla took a banana instead. I glanced at God to see
what He’d do. Surely, He
didn’t eat nor have need to. God
picked up a plum and bit into it.
He looked
at me, winked and said, “I don’t have to eat, John. In the cosmic sense,
neither do you. But it’s enjoyable, at least most times, if done properly and
in moderation.” I couldn’t quite understand what He meant by not having to eat.
He
continued, “You see, on earth you have a physical body made of elements that
are a part of the very earth itself. Your body is a marvel of engineering. I
designed it to be relatively self-sustaining and self-correcting.
“If
treated with respect and love, the body generally takes care of itself. It is,
so to say, your house here on earth. Each of your cells is a unit of
consciousness. They perform in concert to produce a symphony of highly com-plex
vibrations. These vibrations affect every other cell in the entire body. These
cells know exactly what’s neces-sary for the body to exist in harmony with its
environ-ment. I placed the necessary engineering and electronic data in their
memory. If given half a chance, they’d keep you healthy. You think they’re
simple because you study them under your microscopes, but your most advanced
“It’s true
that you need a certain amount of nutrients for your physical body, but that
amount is usually small. Your mental body is woven into your physical body yet,
you feed one and not the other. Your concern for food for the physical far
outweighs your concern for food for the mental and the spiritual. Listen, it’s
in the realm of mind that you control all in the physical. It’s by
working within that you change without. The problems appear on the
outside, the solutions are on the inside.”
“How then
do you explain disease and illness? Shouldn’t the body take care of these
things as well?” I asked.
“Yes,
there are diseases in your world, but they gener-ally result from a condition
called ‘dis - ease.’ Human-kind creates new illnesses all the time. All
diseases have their roots in your mind and beliefs. And the cure for all of
them already resides within you. Most times, a fear of disease deep in your
subconscious makes it possible for the disease to become a part of you. Think
healthy thoughts and discount the possibility of disease and it will never take
up residence in your house.
“There are
materials given to you to assist in keeping the body and mind healthy. These
are all around you but usually you ignore them and look for other ways. Take
light and sound, for example. Your scientists are only now beginning to take a
hard look at the intriguing possibili-ties of these vibrations and frequencies.
Vibrations of vari-ous kinds affect both the physical and mental bodies.
Certain gems, colors and sounds are much more benefi-cial than others. In
periods of deep meditation you can generally tell which ones would be best for
you. If you cannot, you may need the help of a teacher or a practitio-ner in
these matters. If your mind is calm and your out-look positive, you would
naturally be drawn to the right people, the right places and the right things.
You’d feel that certain colors are good for you. You would feel the effects of
certain sounds and light. Tune in to yourself and trust your guidance.
“You’ll be
healthy not by disliking sickness, but by loving health. Treat your body with
respect and love. It’s the vehicle for your consciousness while you’re on
earth. It’s also made to provide you with pleasure. Looking at a beautiful
sunset, tasting a delicious meal, hearing musi-
God
relaxed for a moment and took another bite of the plum. “Plums are good,” He
said. “Fruits and vegetables are good. There are herbs that are beneficial for
specific bodily ailments. The ancient civilizations knew a lot about these
things. There’s much to be learned from what was handed down to you. But in
your present century, there’s not much respect for ancient wisdom. Scientific
data and analysis are fine up to a point, but they provide incom-plete answers.
Combining ancient wisdom and knowl-edge with new discoveries will always be
more beneficial in the long run.
My mind
was racing. This was extremely important and valuable information. It was time
I thought, to ask a few questions concerning my current problems. Yet today,
these problems seemed so far away and not at all impor-tant. Just being in the
presence of the Almighty gave me an entirely different perspective. But
nevertheless, I found myself asking, “Why is it, Lord, sometimes when we work
so hard toward a goal, that it begins to seem ever further
away? In fact, there are so many
things that I’m working on and they all seem to be getting worse. Any light You
can shed will be a tremendous help not only to me, but also to those I’m trying
to help.”
“There are
various reasons,” said God. “The things you are striving for so diligently may
not be things you really want or need. Another reason may be that you aren’t
ready yet or prepared to handle those things. Or it could be timing. You have
to learn how to read the signs of the times. A good farmer knows when to sow
and when to reap. He doesn’t reap when he should be sowing or sow when he
should be reaping.”
These
reasons seemed too ordinary to be “God Answers,” so I pursued the question
further. “I thought any time was a good or proper time. How do we know this
timing? How can we find the right time?”
“It’s
true,” replied God, “that anytime is a good time, but you must know if it is
the right time. Winter is a good time, but do you plant roses in the
snow? A stormy day is a good day, but is it a day for sailing or fishing? There
are cycles in the universe, the world and your life. Learn to find the cycles
and use them for your benefit. Projects
“Sounds
something like astrology. Is there really any-thing to that stuff?”
“I love
puzzles — crosswords, jigsaws and many other kinds. You have many puzzles in
your life. Things would be dull indeed without challenges. But although the
puzzles are challenging, you’ve been given clues. You have many guidance
systems for your earthly life. Since ancient times, sailors have used the stars
for navigation on the high seas. You, too, could use the stars for navigation
on the seas of life. How do you think those Three Wise Men from the East found
our little baby Jesus? Don’t you remember the story? They studied the heavens.
They saw a star and they were able to correctly interpret the signs. Call it
astrology, celestial navigation or whatever you please.”
“Can the
ordinary person use these things for his own guidance?” I asked.
“Even
today,” He said, “there are many who guide their paths according to the signs
they read. These signs, astro-logical or otherwise, weren’t given to you as
crutches, but as guideposts. They don’t determine or predestine what
You have to do the traveling. Don’t
confuse the map with the territory.”
“Most of
my animals are more aware of cycles and signs than humans are. Notice how they
seem to be aware of approaching storms or earthquakes. They don’t block out the
messages they receive. But you, the epitome of My creation on earth, have
filled yourselves with so much doubt, worry and fear that you can’t hear
yourselves think. You can’t even hear Me speak to you. You even choose to
ignore the signs I’ve given you.
“Yet,
these signs are there for anyone. In your sleep you have signs and guidance
through your dreams. In your waking time there are just as many helpful signs
for your direction and well-being. Take for example, reading license plates on
cars. Every once in a while, take the letters you see and form words. Pick the
first words that come into your mind and see how often those words have
relevance to your present situation. Once in a while, look at a billboard. Or,
perhaps, a song on the radio gives you a hint. Open a book, any book, to any
page and see what it tells you. There are ‘sermons in stones’ if you’d take
the time
to look, listen and be open to receive information.” A slight breeze arose and
the sails billowed. The sound of the creaking masts joined with the ocean to
create a beautiful windsong. I still had no desire, but just to sit there
forever and hear God speak. I was now able to detect a faint, glowing light
around Him. I’d seen this light before around Gideon, but for the first time I
saw it
around
Marla, too.
God
continued. “Don’t think that you can only speak to me about sacred, holy or
spiritual things. As you can see, I enjoy many things, even a cruise. Don’t be
afraid to confide in me. I’m closer to you than the air you breathe.” While I
had the opportunity I thought I’d ask one ques-tion about my future, since I
could sense that our meet-ing was quickly approaching an end. “Lord,” I asked,
“will my path over the next months or years be easier than it
has
been?”
“The way
you have chosen for yourself will be a diffi-cult but glorious one. You’ll need
all the strength and faith you can muster for what lies ahead. But you will
come through it. For me to tell you more would deter you from the path that
you’ve set for yourself. As you go
There was
a sweet sadness about this very personal meeting. Gideon looked at me and said,
“It’s time to go now, John.”
“Do I really have to go?” I asked.
God
answered, “Yes, John, but remember what you have learned here today. You’ll
need it.” Turning to Gideon and Marla, He said, “No need for John to worry
about traffic today. Please make sure that he’s returned to his office without
any problems.” He looked at me again and as He said, “Go in peace,” I felt as
if I’d always known Him.
The scene
began to disappear. There was a brief silence then I found Gideon and myself,
once again, sitting in my parked car. Marla was nowhere to be seen. Gideon
whispered, “The Lord moves in mysterious ways,” and then he, too, was gone.
Trying to compose myself, I sat there a short while longer. Then as one
awakening from a dream, I got out and walked to my office.
Chapter Twelve
The threads of history weave strange
patterns in the web of time. Mysterious and complex as the tapestry sometimes
appears, the finished product
invariably is a work of art. Often,
one cannot see the entire picture from the limited perspective of a small
portion of a lifetime. It’s by expanding the mind and trusting the universal
flow that it’s possible to make sense
of what
may be considered nonsense or “none sense.” It was sometime in the late
sixteenth or early seven-teenth century. Far across the seas in the ancient
land of Bharat, which today is known as India, mighty forces were at work.
Somewhere in the north central part of that land, in an area inhabited by the
descendants of fierce Rajput warriors, the Maharajah Jai Singh the Second had
already made tremendous scientific advancements in the pink and
lavender
city of Jaipur.
A young
boy, about the age of ten, served at the court of the powerful Jai Singh. This
boy’s name, taken from another powerful ruler of earlier days, was Mahn Singh.
Well versed was he with the stories told at court. On many an evening he would
listen in quiet amazement as visitors from faraway lands exchanged stories and
tales with one another. As Mahn Singh grew older, he would dream of those
distant lands across the seas and would repeat the stories he learned at court.
Thousands
of miles across the oceans, England had a new queen. Elizabeth the First,
daughter of Henry the Eighth, was a shrewd and powerful monarch. She was
constantly at war with Spain, which was then ruled by
On one of
the Spanish expeditions led by Don Pedro da Silva, a young sailor named Juan
Martinez was watch-ing an approaching storm. Great was the fury of that storm
and when it abated the entire crew, save one, was no more. All but Juan
Martinez perished. He barely survived by clinging to a piece of floating
wreckage. Days passed under the hot, tropic sun until, finally, delirious and
de-hydrated, he drifted to land and was rescued by a strange band of warriors.
He had drifted into the estuary of that mysterious South American river called
the Orinoco.
It is said
that Juan Martinez was taken to a city called Manoa, ruled by a legendary
figure known as El Dorado
— The Golden One. Beautiful, indeed,
was the city. The streets were paved with gold and the houses and temples
gloriously reflected the rays of the morning sun. Juan Martinez lived for many
years among the natives of this land, eventually escaping one day to tell his
story.
One who
heard the story of El Dorado was Sir Walter Raleigh, friend and confidant of
Elizabeth the First of England. Many expeditions were made to the area on the
northern coast of South America called Guyana. It was there that Sir Walter
Raleigh and others believed the fabled city of gold would be found.
In the
search for El Dorado many lives were lost. In the dense jungles of Guyana could
be found bushes of Yellow Allamanda and Red Amaryllis. There was also the waxen
petalled Cereus that blooms at midnight once in seven years, then fades away
with the rising sun. But a land of wealth and ease or a golden city could not
be found. For many centuries the fight for Guyana continued until, in the end,
the country became a part of the British Empire.
In the
meantime, the little boy Mahn Singh, who had spent much time at the court of
the Maharajah Jai Singh the Second, had become an old man. His last days were
spent much like his earlier days, telling stories of dis-tant lands, this time
to his grandchildren and great-grand-children. One great-grandson especially
delighted in asking questions of the elderly Mahn Singh. Though still young in
age, Jung Bahadur Singh would question Mahn
Jung
Bahadur Singh was in his twenties when he heard that some of his people were
traveling across the ocean to work on the sugar plantations in a remote land
known as Guyana. Jung Bahadur Singh, great grandson of Mahn Singh, took up the
call and together with several other stalwart young men, shipped off to the
only British colony in South America.
If
conditions in India were difficult, conditions in Guyana seemed almost
impossible. From early morn to late at night, Jung Bahadur Singh worked in the
fields. He raised his family as best he could. Battling the encroach-ing
jungles on one hand and the restless sea on the other in order to save his
little farm, he persisted and struggled until the day he died. But the son of
Jung Bahadur Singh grew up in the little village by the ocean and remembered
the tales of the land from whence his father came.
The village grew and prospered and in time, the son of
Strange is
the pattern that the Weaver creates as strands of time and space are woven
together. Ever since I first came to these shores, I’ve used a blend of Eastern
and Western philosophies that served me well, except for the last few years or,
perhaps I should say, in spite of the last few years. When I first met Gideon,
my career and financial stability were being tested. I witnessed things that I
had spent a lifetime building, slowly crumble. Even meeting God in the Big City
had not prepared me for what was to
All I had
come to believe seemed to be disintegrating. Anger, frustration, fear and
unhappiness filled me to over-flowing. Friends disappeared, leaving me to
believe they were never friends in the first place. The two or three remaining
ones helped as much as they could. Even broth-ers and sisters raised their
voices in anger and disgust because of my inability to repay debts owed them.
As time passed, I was quickly turning into an outcast. I remember vividly how,
in the middle of one winter, my wife and children huddled over a small electric
heater because the oil company had turned off our oil supply. Tears welled up in
my eyes as I pleaded, to no avail, with the telephone company not to cut off
our service. Where was Gideon in the midst of all this?
The
questions weren’t new and have been asked by thou-sands of unfortunate people
for centuries. Why must I suf-fer so much? And if I had to suffer, why did my
family and friends have to endure with me? All I had tried to do was to earn a
decent living while treating my employees and others
We lost
our home and most of our possessions. We sold a few remaining pieces of
furniture in order to buy groceries. One of the most difficult sacrifices I was
forced to make was to give away Rajah. It was he who had sat beside me as I
conversed with Gideon. Overwhelmed and despondent, I began questioning
everything I held sacred. The question was not “Where was Gideon?,” but “Where
was God?” Eventually we moved to another state in a desperate effort to start
over.
And then,
as a final blow, my father, descendant of Mahn Singh of Bharat, passed away.
Many were the sor-rowful moments I spent alone but, even so, a new
under-standing was dawning. On quiet evenings as I drove home from work I could
still hear his voice in my head.
While
commuting one evening, I was thinking how scarce Gideon had become during my
troubles. Why couldn’t I see him when I needed him most? Suddenly
“Well, at least say ‘Hello,’ ” he demanded.
“It’s good
to see you again but, for crying out loud, where have you been?” I stammered.
“Just
thought you could use a laugh and, as I recall, you wanted to see me.”
“Where did you get this car?”
As if it
was normal procedure, he calmly replied, “Cre-ated it.” Ignoring his answer, I
said, “I’ve got to talk to you, but we can’t stay here.”
“That’s why I came. I’ll see you at ten tomorrow
I could
hardly contain my excitement as I drove the rest of the way home. Tomorrow I’d
see him again. I had lots of questions and this time I wanted answers.
Tomor-row we shall see, I thought as I pulled into my driveway.
Chapter Thirteen
The morning arrived and I prepared for
my meet-ing with Gideon. I felt calm and composed yet, there was an
undercurrent of excitement that even I
couldn’t deny. Due to my recent
relocation, I wasn’t famil-iar with many of the local streets. Finally, out of
frustra-tion, I resorted to a local map and, having located the street, got in
my car and drove off.
At the
designated address, I walked up to the front door and anxiously rang the bell.
A gray-haired lady opened the door, smiled at me and said, “Please come in. You
must be John. Gideon is expecting you.” I thanked her and entered. I spotted
Gideon in the living room and walked over to shake his hand. Simultaneously he
stretched out his hand, smiled and motioned for me to sit. Impatiently I
fidgeted. The silence was overwhelm-ing. Sometimes, a few seconds can seem like
an eternity.
“So, how
are you Gideon?” I finally asked. Anything to start a conversation, I thought.
“As usual,
John, I’m tending to business, doing the things that need to be done,” he
replied matter-of-factly.
“Well,
your business must have been very busy because I haven’t heard from you in
ages. Where were you during the past few years, Gideon? I really could have
used some help. Somehow I felt abandoned, as good as betrayed, by you and even
by God. Remember, we met Him in the Big City — or did we? Was it all nonsense .
. . an illusion? My tired mind playing cruel jokes on me?”
“No, not
nonsense at all. Far from it. We were with you all the time. You were so
blinded by what appeared
I wanted
to scream in anger, but managed to restrain myself. “Gideon, I’ve been and
still am going through a minefield of confusion and suffering. Lost my homes,
lands, father, company and most of my dignity and self-confidence. My wife was
diagnosed with cancer. Her par-ents are also being treated for cancer. There’s
no medical insurance — hardly any money. I mean, how much can one person take?
You don’t know what it’s like . . . you probably don’t even care.”
He
interrupted me, “Yes, I know about all of that. But you gained strength,
humility, wisdom and much more. Jim Elliot, a martyr, once said, ‘He is no fool
who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.’ The things that are
important are still with you, even more so today. Your dignity and
self-confidence are still with you, but most of all you’re regaining
your sense of purpose.”
“Sense of purpose about what?”
“About what you came here to do.”
“What I came here to do? Beats me. I have no idea
“Don’t you
have a sense of something important you must do in this lifetime?” he
questioned.
“Oh sure,
doesn’t everybody? Survive — get through today so I can start over and struggle
with tomorrow. Anyway, why didn’t you stay around to help me when I needed it?
Why didn’t you tell me these things were going to happen? You knew, didn’t
you?”
“Of
course, I knew. But if I had told you about them, you probably would have given
up and never reached this point.”
“This
point isn’t much better than any of the other points along the way. As you can
probably see, I don’t earn enough money to even feed my family. It’s all I can
do to make ends meet. I’ve been struggling so hard, but there never seems to be
any progress. All I do is struggle. Why are bad things happening all the time,
Gideon?”
“Bad
things happen sometimes and good things can happen most of the time. It’s how
you look at it, John.”
“There you go again, more riddles. Why don’t you answer my questions? Haven’t bad
things ever happened to you?”
“Yes!
Unpleasant things happened to me many times. But that was when I wasn’t aware
of who I was and all the power I had at my command. It was only after I
realized that I was both the giver and the gift, the creator and the creation,
the teacher and the student, that I learned to change the things that you call
circumstances. Life then became much more fun. You think that you have had
tough times! Let me tell you about tough times!
“It was
another time and another place, thousands of your earth years ago. It was the
time of the Israelites and the Midianites. For some reason, the Midianites had
con-quered my people and we suffered terribly. For seven long years the
Midianites would move across the land and destroy everything in their path.
They took our sheep and cattle, our seed grain, all they could find. They
killed our men, raped our women and enslaved our children. In spite of all
that, we maintained our faith and kept on struggling.
“The
Midianites would race over the land on fast-mov-ing camels. They seemed
numberless. Like locusts they came, destroying and laying waste until we lost
all hope.
“I stood
there quivering as he said, ‘Hello, you mighty man of valor, the Lord is with
you.’
“I was
puzzled by this greeting but summoned enough courage to ask a question, similar
to the one you asked me earlier. ‘If the Lord is with me, how come the
Midianites destroy our land, kill our people and enslave us? What would it have
been like if the Lord hadn’t been with me?’
“The answer he gave did not make sense at the time.
‘Go in your strength and save your
people from the Midianites,’ he said.
“I almost laughed, but seeing that the stranger was
“The
answer to my question is the same answer I give to yours. The man said, ‘The
Lord will be with you and you shall smite the Midianites as one man.’
“You see,
John, things were really bad. But that night I started thinking if I really
believed in myself and this power that is called God, I could do anything. The
rest is history
— how, with only three hundred
fighting men, we put the armies of Midian to flight. I then had all the wealth,
power and happiness I could desire and lived to a ripe old age. When I died
they laid me to rest in the tomb of Joash, my father, at Ophra.”
“So, you lived on earth before this time, Gideon?”
“Of course, I did. Many times.”
“Do you remember all those times?”
“Only the
ones I want to. But from each time, there was something important to learn.
From that experience with the Midianites I learned the importance of believing
in myself and my God. I learned that no matter how bad things appeared to be,
if you choose to change them and if you have a sense of purpose, you
can overcome. You’ve had many lessons of this sort in other times but you’ve
forgotten them. It’s in remembering and applying what you’ve already learned
that you find the answers to your present problems.”
“How do I
go about remembering these things? And how can these things be true?”
“What do
you mean by ‘how can these things be true’? Can you tell me how a tree grows,
or how a bird flies? Can you explain how the world works? Listen to your heart
and soul in your quiet times and you’ll see how much you remember and how much
you really know. The door of the soul opens inward and meditation is the key
that unlocks that door. You’ve taught many people how to meditate and yet, you
don’t heed your own instructions. ‘Physician, heal thyself!’”
In a
humbled tone I asked, “Gideon, what’s happen-ing to me?”
He looked
at me with such compassionate eyes and spoke in such sympathetic tones that I
was somewhat embarrassed at the way I’d lashed out at him. “Look,” he said,
“What’s happening to you is nothing that shouldn’t
“Do you
mean all the sorrowful events of the past few years had a purpose?”
“Everything
has a purpose even though you may not always be aware of it. The honeybee
thinks that it only takes the nectar from the flower yet, in so doing, it
polli-nates and helps in the creation of fruits. There’s an important reason
for your being here. You must now start to use some of the learning you’ve
gained from your experi-ences so that you can get on with the business of
living a joyful, fruitful, peaceful life.”
There was
a knock at the door and in walked Marla whom I hadn’t seen in years. I stood up
and took her extended hand. “John,” she said, “it’s so good to see you again.
For a while there, we thought you weren’t going to pull through.” She smiled as
she seated herself next to Gideon.
Gideon
looked at Marla and asked, “How’s it going with System 22?”
They both
turned to me as Marla replied, “All goes well. Perhaps John might enjoy a short
visit there, don’t you think?”
Gideon was
serious as he replied, “I don’t know if he’s ready yet, but I’ll check with the
Chief.”
“What’s
this System 22, Gideon?” I could feel some-thing afoot.
“It’s an
entirely different system from this one. How-ever, some preparations must be
made before you’re able to go there. In fact, a trip has been scheduled
for you. We just have to double check to see if the time is right and if you’re
prepared. I’ll let you know more about it soon.”
I could
see that further questions about System 22 wouldn’t be answered, so I didn’t
pursue the issue. I felt good seeing Gideon and Marla again. “Will I be seeing
you two more often now?” I asked.
“More often than you may want to,” Marla replied.
“And I’ve been asked to give you all
the help you need and to assist in your growth process.”
“That would really be
a great help,” I blurted out happily.
We said
our good-byes and I left my other-worldly friends still a bit baffled, but
knowing that I would be seeing them again soon.
Chapter Fourteen
Aweek had passed since my last meeting
with Gideon and Marla. Christmas was only a few days away and we, like many
other families, were pre-
paring for the occasion. Barely able
to afford a tree, we settled for a sorry-looking specimen and spent most of the
remaining weekend hanging ornaments, lights and decorations. Tired but pleased
that we were able to make
the most
of what we had, I fell into bed exhausted. I must scarcely have fallen asleep
when, all of a sud-den, I was wide awake again. Being awake this time,
how-ever, was somewhat different. I appeared to be floating in the air.
Disorienting as this seemed at first, I somehow felt a sense of curiosity and
freedom. Gazing down, I saw my body lying peacefully asleep between the sheets
yet, I was vibrantly awake, conscious and able to think. I peered around me and
found the room as I knew it. I seemed to have a body, but it was much lighter
than the one I was accustomed to. Perhaps I had died, I thought, yet I felt
more alive than ever. I was beginning to panic when a voice from within my head
seemed to speak. “Look behind
you,
John,” it said.
Immediately
I turned around and saw Gideon and Marla. “Don’t be afraid, my friend,” said
Gideon. “You’re experiencing what’s called an out-of-body situation. Your body
is resting perfectly safe on the bed while you’re here with us. In this state
we’re able to travel farther and faster and, of course, more efficiently than
if you’re in the physi-cal body.”
Still a bit unsure, I asked Gideon, “Are you really
sure
“Not at
all, John. You’re perfectly safe. As a rule, most people do this during their
sleep. However, most don’t remember it when they wake up in the morning.”
“What’s the point
then? Why am I doing it?”
Marla
spoke up. I don’t mean that a voice echoed across the room. Instead, I just
seemed to hear her in my head.
“Let’s go to where it’s more
comfortable and we’ll tell you about the arrangements.” She reached out and
took my hand. Gideon grabbed the other one and, all of a sud-den, the three of
us were flying, literally, through the roof. Over the house and above the trees
we flew until, in a blur, we were standing under a tree in a clearing. Nearby
drifted a gentle-flowing stream and the bright moon above us shone on the
beautiful, fleecy clouds. Enveloped in a lovely, comfortable warmth, we were
immune to tempera-ture and weather. Behind me, stretching it seemed into
infinity, was a narrow silver light, somewhat like a shin-ing cord. Gideon, as
if reading my mind, said, “We’re speaking to you with our thoughts, John.
Without the physical body, you have no need for physical voice or
‘Life
Force’ sustains the body through the silver cord.” Marla interjected, “We use
this method of travel when there are special things to be accomplished. This is
a trial run for what you’ll be doing in a few days. Remember we mentioned
System 22 during our last meeting? Well, your visit has been approved. We must
tell you a little more about it, however, before we take you there. Somewhat
like a
mini-orientation.”
“Well, I’m listening,” I said.
“As you
remember, you once visited the World Head-quarters of G & M Enterprises,”
she continued. “There you met the Chief and had the pleasure of conversing with
Him personally.” I thought of how nice it would be to just rest in an easy
chair listening to Marla. The thought had hardly occurred to me when I found
myself reclin-ing in a comfortable chair. Marla and Gideon were simi-larly
positioned.
Gideon
announced, “When you’re out of your body as you are now, John, your thoughts
are materialized at the
“Wow! What
a fantastic place!” I shouted. “Could I think of all kinds of good stuff, fun
things or whatever and would they appear?”
“Here,
immediately, there, sooner or later. But appear they will, as sure as day
follows night. By the same token, however, if you focus on unpleasant things,
they too will be created. Just a universal law, John. Think and expect good and
you get it. Think and expect bad and you get that, too. It’s a double edged
sword, you see. You can’t get one without also being able to get the other, or
else, where would your power of choice be? How could you exercise choice if you
were only given one possible choice? Therefore, since the power of choice is
one of the most important gifts from your Creator, you must have at least two
choices and most times, many, many more. That’s the simplicity and the
complexity of it.
“Gee, Gideon, it’s not as simple as I thought after
all.”
“Simple it
is, but easy it’s not. Most of your great teach-ers throughout history have
spoken about the wisdom of managing and choosing one’s thoughts. Nevertheless,
most people still have lots to learn.”
Marla took
up the conversation again. “When you travel through time and space on earth,
you don’t nec-essarily have to leave your physical body. Remember when you
traveled to your old college and to the Ganges River? You took your body with
you because that was local travel. If you were, however, to travel to a
different star system, it’s much more efficient to do it this way, without the
physical body.
“We were
discussing just such a situation a few moments ago. To go to the World
Headquarters of G & M Enterprises, you had no need for cosmic travel
meth-ods. However, System 22 is outside your star system and is the Universal
Headquarters of the Chief. From that loca-tion, which isn’t really a place in
the formal sense of the word, the entire universe is monitored and adjusted
according to the thoughts and needs of its various inhab-itants and life
forms.”
“Is it like a super
headquarters from which the Almighty
“It’s only
headquarters for one universe. There are many universes and each one has its
own support system. Ours and yours is System 22.”
“How many universes
are there altogether, Marla?”
“How many
grains of sand are there in the desert? How many stars in the heavens?” she
quickly replied in answer to my question.
We were
all quiet for a while. I could ‘hear’ the sound of the wind as it quietly moved
through the leaves above me. “Then there must be other civilizations and people
on other planets and star systems?” I asked.
“Yes,
John,” Gideon responded. “There are many life forms in many universes. They
were designed to live in har-mony with one another. Similarly, on earth there
are many life forms, each unique and having its own special place in the scheme
of things. Just as the ant is able to co-exist with the elephant, mankind
should be able to co-exist with one another and also with the various other
life forms.”
“Are some
of the other civilizations more advanced than ours, Gideon?”
“
‘Advanced’ is not the correct word. It would be more accurate to use ‘aware,’
but for illustrative purposes let’s use ‘advanced.’ Are some life forms on
earth more advanced than others, more highly evolved, if you will? Of course
there are. Similarly, in the universe there are some civilizations far more
advanced than yours. Also, there are others far less evolved. Some are truly
energy or light beings, having no need for a body as you know it. They’re so
aware of their infinite power that they create whatever they may need out of
pure thought.
“Others
are not as mature and still indulge in wars and other less evolved behaviors.
But they are all children of the First Force and they’re all striving in one
way or another to achieve unity of purpose with their Creator. It’s the same
Creator who made you and us — The Chief Him-self. We have instant access to
Him.”
“Would it
be possible to see Him again? I mean, like I saw Him that time in the Big
City?” I stammered.
“That’s
the purpose of the trip to System 22. In a few more days we’ll make a trip to
our Universal Headquarters. There the Chief will speak with you again and
you’ll be able to ask all the questions you want. Think and reflect
There was
a hissing sound and a flash of light. I turned over and was wide awake in bed.
Marla and Gideon were gone. Of one thing I was sure, however, it was not a
dream.
Chapter Fifteen
It was the day after Christmas. The
morning was bitter cold, but the golden rays of the sun bathed the trees in a
frosty, sparkling beauty. Somehow, deep within me,
I felt this was to be the day for my
visit to System 22. Yet nothing had happened to confirm my feelings.
Christmas
day had been spent at home with the fam-ily. It was exciting to help my
children set up their toys. I
Today,
however, Christmas was behind me and it was time to return to the mundane world
of commerce. This evening, I thought, should be a peaceful one. It was a quiet
day at the office and after a good dinner, some time with the family and a few
household chores, I turned in for the night and fell asleep.
Without
warning, it happened again. I was wide awake looking down at my body sleeping
peacefully on the bed. Standing next to me were Marla and Gideon. “It’s time
for us to go to System 22, John,” said Gideon. “Your body will be at rest and
perfectly safe while we’re gone. You ready?”
“As ready
as I’ll ever be,” I replied, and without further ado, they each grasped one of
my hands and we were off again. We experienced the same flying sensation and
sud-denly there was the feeling of falling. Almost immediately,
“Gideon, what is this place?” I asked.
“This is
the first step in the ‘translation’ process from earth to the heavens,” he
answered.
“What do you mean?” I was frankly puzzled.
“To reach
System 22 from earth there are several trans-fer points. Each person who wants
to go or is invited to visit must first go through one of these transfer
points. I don’t know the exact reason why, but I understand it has something to
do with space-time coordinates. Purely tech-nical, I guess. There are a number
of these locations here
“Outside
this country, other points are located, for example, in Canada, England,
Australia and India. A few more in Africa, China and elsewhere. We chose
Arizona for no particular reason, except that we’re familiar with it. You see,
we’ve done this many times before. However, we could have gone to any of the
other points.
“You’ll
notice that we all appear to have bodies. These bodies are mental ones, not
physical ones and, there-fore, are not subject to the same time, space and
den-sity constraints as earth bodies. In fact, the earth body is a physical
image of your spirit body, somewhat similar to the way a picture shows an
actual scene. From this transfer point we’ll go directly to System 22 where you’ll
meet some very interesting people and, finally, the Chief. I think they’re
almost ready for us. Let’s go.”
We stood up and walked over to one of the large
Immediately
there was complete darkness, a sound not unlike music, then absolute silence. I
was no longer afraid, just extremely curious. After what seemed like an
eter-nity, but in reality couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, we
emerged into another brilliantly lit room simi-lar to the one we’d just left. I
turned to Gideon and said,
“We
don’t seem to have gone anywhere.”
Smiling,
he replied, “We’re light years away from where we started.”
A
delegation awaited us — a group of friendly people who came forward and
surrounded us. Searching the faces around us, I was taken by surprise to find
my father, look-ing exactly as I knew him back on earth. He looked straight
into my eyes; I thought for sure I was dreaming. I became overwhelmed by
emotions as I rushed up and threw my arms around him. I had missed him so much.
“No, you’re not dreaming, son,” he said to me.
“You’re
alive, Dad?” I said, more as a statement than a question.
“As alive,
as I ever was or will be,” he replied. He seemed to be happy and at peace. The
crowd parted as we walked across the room toward a large door. As we
approached, the door opened automatically and we proceeded into a scene of
indescribable beauty. Although we’d left the transfer point at night, it was
now full day-light. Perhaps, it’s less confusing not to analyze the mys-teries
of time and space.
Marla
said, “We’ll be back with you shortly, John,” and she and Gideon vanished,
leaving me alone with my Dad. I looked at the man who had raised me and taught
me so much about life. Was it the light again or did he seem to be surrounded
by a faint, silvery aura?
“Sit down,
son,” he said as he pointed toward a bench beneath a tree. “Tell me how you’ve
been.”
“Well, to
say the least, I’ve been having a real rough time, Dad. I don’t know how, but
I’m sure things will work out eventually. What’s this place and what are you
doing here?” Somehow, I felt that he already knew how I was doing.
“This is a
reception center for visitors from various parts of the universe. I’ll be here
for a while. I chose this assign-ment because of the opportunities for growth
and learn-ing, but I have to admit it’s also fun.”
“Why did
you leave us so suddenly, Dad? Don’t you know how much all of us miss you,
especially Mom? She speaks of you all the time. Recently, she was very ill, but
she’s doing much better now. I think she misses you more than everyone else put
together.”
I seemed
to catch a glimpse of sadness in his eyes as he said, “It was time for me to go
on.” He was quiet for a short while as if reflecting on what I’d said. Then he con-tinued,
“I’d completed as much of my earth work as I could and there was nothing else
for me to do. From here, it’s possible to help you and the others much more
than I was able to do while I was there. I watch over your mother constantly.
It’ll be a few more years before she joins me, but you’ve just started your
work. All that came before was just preparation. Your visit here is the next
step. It’s like a graduation before going on to other, more complex work.
“I’ll be with you whenever you need me. Just call me
“There are
others here who’ll be helping you, too. I’ve known Gideon and Marla from many
lifetimes. There is also a group of three called the Companions. I know you see
them often in your dreams. They always bring you valid information that very
often you choose to ignore. They are your higher self — your guiding, knowing
self. Everyone has several helpers. You’re aware of some of yours, but most
people never discover the help that is available to them until they cross over
to this side.”
“Dad, I
feel like crying — not tears of sadness, but tears of joy.”
“There’s
no need for tears at all. The Chief is all Love and Joy. You, son and the
others on earth are the ones who believe that life is supposed to be a vale of
tears and
There was
such peace and serenity surrounding us as we sat there. It seemed as though
he’d always been alive; that he’d lived forever, this dad of mine whom I miss
terribly. I knew then that he’d never really died and I could always meet or
see him whenever I wanted.
“Keep
working, learning and growing, son,” he continued. “Never give up. You’ve heard
it said ‘When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.’ I believe
‘When the teacher is ready, the
master will appear.’ You’ll be meeting with the Chief soon. Then you will know
that we’re all one. You’ll understand you’ve never been sepa-rated from your
Creator; that you and He are one.
“We must
go now. Gideon and Marla are coming for you and the Lord is waiting.”
Gideon and
Marla reappeared as suddenly as they had left. My dad hugged me warmly and
patted me on the back. Tears fell from the corners of my eyes as he said
good-bye. It was so good just to see him again. Of course, it was obvious now
that he was not dead, but transformed.
Chapter Sixteen
Together we walked along a lovely
pathway in a garden of exquisite beauty. Flowers with the most delicate forms
blended their exotic scents to perfume the air with an ever so subtle
fragrance. Surely, I thought, Eden must have looked like this. Birds with
brilliant-col-ored plumes sang while painted butterflies danced in flut-
tering
pirouettes creating a rainbow of colors.
We crossed
a nearby clearing into the midst of a gar-den party. The tables and chairs were
neatly arranged beneath the tangle of outstretched branches which served as a
sheltering canopy. The comforting sounds of talking and laughter rang out all
around us. As we approached a table on the far side of the clearing, a
stillness fell over the crowd. A closer look indicated that there was but one
person sitting at that table. That person was God, appear-ing just as I had
seen Him in the Big City. “Hello, Lord, What are you doing sitting all alone?”
I asked.
“Sometimes
it gets lonely being God. Please sit,” He said gesturing in our direction. We
pulled up chairs and joined Him.
“Where are
we? Could this place be heaven, Lord?” I asked.
“No. This
isn’t heaven. Heaven is neither here nor there. Let me assure you, heaven is
closer to you than you think. It’s within you. All of this comes from what’s
within you. Both heaven and hell are within your mind. All you have to do is
choose which you’d like to have.”
“Bless
you, Lord,” was all I could say. Realizing how ridiculously stupid I must have
appeared, I quickly
“Thank
you, Sir,” I replied as Marla and Gideon giggled in amusement at my
predicament.
“Why don’t
you say something, Gideon?” I asked, feel-ing at a loss for words.
“This is your party, John.
We’re celebrating your visit.” Looking at God, I said, “Lord, I’m so happy to
be here.
When I return home, I’ll spend my
life building a temple where we can worship and praise you.”
“That’s
very kind of you,” He said, “but whatever gave you the idea that I dwell in
temples or that I want to be worshipped and praised? Look, I really get bored
with this praise thing. Instead of building me a temple, why don’t you feed the
hungry, help the poor, heal the sick and teach those who want to learn? Wouldn’t
that be more useful than a temple?”
God
continued, “I’ve invited a number of others to be our guests and to join in our
celebration. Let me intro-duce some of them.” He stood up and pointed to
various tables, calling names. “There is Abraham and over there are Moses and
Annabelle. Next to them you can see
“How can they all be
at the same party, Lord?” I asked,
“I mean, Krishna and the Buddha
conversing with Mohammed and Jesus? And who are Joseph, Jennifer and
Annabelle?”
“They’re
all created in my image. Each is as important as the other. The famous names,
you recognize. The other three, though not mentioned in history books, are
still quite as dear to me. They were just simple folks, each one trying to
fulfill his or her mission. This is a cooperative universe, not a competitive
one, John. For someone to be richer, another doesn’t have to be poorer. For you
to be healthy, no one has to be sick. There’s enough and more than enough for
everyone. In the game of life, all can win and all can receive prizes.”
“This is
important; I’ve got to try to remember it all. Is this a dream or will I forget
when I wake up?”
“No, this
isn’t a dream. And yes, you’ll forget some, but not all. The important parts
will stay in your memory for the rest of your earth life. Tolerance, harmony
and understanding, these are some of the important things. Learn to understand
yourself and you’ll find it easier to understand everything else.
“Earth
life appears to be so difficult at times for those who are there. Yet, there’s
no need for suffering and pain. Suffering should only teach you that you didn’t
really have to suffer in the first place. Help is always available if you
choose to ask for it, so ask, seek and knock. You have allies in many
dimensions who are more than willing and able to help you when you’re caught in
a difficult situa-tion. When you need help, ask for it. And, of course, I, too,
am always there to assist you.”
I interrupted
God at this point. “Lord, You say we should ask for help, but I’ve asked many
times and, yet, it seemed that there wasn’t any answer. I seemed to have been
worse off than before asking. Why is that so?”
“It’s very simple indeed. Many times you ask without
“Then
there are those times when you’re like your son who has just broken his toy
train. He asks you to fix it for him, but he holds on to it and won’t give it
to you. In fact, he even tells you how to fix it. You want a problem solved?
Then don’t hold on to it. Release it to me and go about your work. Let go and
let God.”
“Do You
mean it’s that simple? Just let go? That makes sense though. I think I’ll try
it,” I stammered.
“You always have enough to do what has to be done
— more than enough, actually, to take
care of all your needs and wants. Sometimes you go through trials, but that’s
only to strengthen parts of you and to give you a deeper understanding. You’re
never alone. I am with you always. When you’re down in the arena and your face
is in the dust and the crowds are booing, don’t give up. When they laugh at you
and ridicule you and say all man-ner of vile things against you, don’t give up.
When you feel the boot of your opponent on your neck, when you
— it’s not over yet. Never let go of
hope. Hope keeps mighty big company with faith and love. Get a faith-lift if you
must and don’t abandon hope.”
“You say
that You’re always with me and Your other children. Yet, I don’t always see You
as I see You now. In fact, I had to travel through transfer points on earth to
get here. Gideon told me that we’re somewhere on the third star of the
Aldebaran System. Do You know how far I figure we must be from earth, Lord?
Very, very far. If You are always with me, why do I have to travel so far to
see You. How can You hear when I call?”
“Precisely
the point I want to make clear, John. You didn’t have to go through transfer
points or travel great distances to see me. You believed that was the only way
to do it, so we accommodated your beliefs. As you believe, so it is. You’re on
Aldebaran and you’re on earth. You’re everywhere and nowhere. Your essence and
nature span the universe itself and, like Me, you can be everywhere and
everywhen. Even when you seem to be ‘nowhere’ you are still ‘now-here.’
“Beliefs are extremely important. You think that you
“You tend
to think of yourselves as a people of begin-nings and endings. And yet, there
is neither. That which you love will continue forever just as surely as that
which you hate. Do away with what you don’t want by ceasing to hate it. There
is only one power and one force in the universe and I AM THAT. I created you in
My image and likeness so YOU ARE THAT.
“The power
to heal and prosper you, to guide and help you isn’t in the skies. It is and
always has been within you. I am within you. All you need to do is to
become aware that I am there. There is mountain-moving power in each and every
one of My children. You are a part of Me and, yet, at times, you think
yourselves apart from Me. You are made as I am. That which I do, you can
do also. You are all co-creators with Me.
“You
wonder about prayer at times and think that it must be magical. There’s no
magic in it. It’s a method I
“You are a
child of the King, a prince of the realm. All of you are children of the King
and thus princes and prin-cesses. To understand the so-called mysteries of
life, you just have to be aware of your birthright. Look at the trees, the
mountains and the skies. You should know that long before they were, you have
been and long after they’re gone, you shall continue to be.”
God
continued, “Perhaps, it would help you to under-stand better if you walk around
a bit and talk to some of My other children. Many of them have gone through a
lot worse than you have and, yet, they emerged victorious. Enjoy the party,
John. Life is really a celebration.”
Listening
to God again was an experience never to be forgotten. Marla, Gideon and I
walked over to a number of tables and spoke with some of the people. It was
de-lightfully refreshing to converse with some of the great
“More than
most people would like to believe,” said the Buddha.
“Lord
Christ, could you explain to me why you had to die on a cross?” I asked.
“I didn’t
have to die, not on a cross nor anyplace else. As you can see, John, I’m far
from dead. My followers, if you look over there,” as he pointed to Peter and
Paul, “Were a group of pretty somber folks and I had to make quite an
impression on them. I had to make sure they got the mes-sage and were going to
teach others about the laws of life. They quickly forgot the ‘miracles and
parables,’ but my so called ‘death and resurrection’ gave them the incentive
they needed to spread the message. Naturally, after all was said and done,
somewhere along the way their fol-lowers got everything mixed up. They started
worship-ping me instead of teaching and living what I’d taught
The Buddha
took up the conversation. “When I first began to understand the laws of the
universe, I was sit-ting under a Bodhi tree. I thought how wonderful it would
be to share what I’d found. But those who came after me interpreted and
misinterpreted what I tried to say. You can’t even recognize some of the things
I taught them. Well, there’ll be others of us who’ll keep trying. To raise ourselves
higher, we must endeavor to raise the conscious-ness of the entire human race.”
“Will you still help us then?”
“I, Jesus
and others, will always be with you to help, if you call upon us. Just believe
that we’re with you, and there we are. No need for meaningless sacrifices and
ritu-als. You have direct access to the Chief, direct access to any of us. Only
believe and know that this is so.”
Confucius came over and joined in the conversation.
“Listen, John,” he said. “We’ve all
been trying to say the same thing for ages. The Buddha’s message was love.
Jesus exemplified this best. He taught about love. Love your
God walked
over to us while tea was being served. Beside Him was a tall, remarkable
looking fellow. “John,” God said, “I want you to meet Lord Michael. You and
your legends know him as the archangel, Michael. Don’t be surprised that he
hasn’t any wings. He only uses wings when there’s a need for such appearances.”
I bowed with reverence and thought to myself that it wasn’t possible for God,
His angels and others to be speaking with me. How could this be? I, a
relatively insignificant human being, talking with God?
Immediately
God answered my unspoken question. “I speak to all,” He said, “And I speak
through all. Do you
“Look at
Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. See how quietly he sits? A simple lawyer, you say
he was? A law-yer, yes, but much more aware of universal laws than petty,
man-made laws. Laws were made for people, not people for laws. He spoke of
non-violence and love and millions of people listened to him. And Jesus? He was
born the son of a carpenter and, yet, hundreds of millions of you believe in
him. I wish more of you would believe in what he said. I speak to you and I
speak through you. We speak for each other.
“Speak the
truth wherever you may find it. Seek the truth wherever it is to be found.
Don’t confuse facts with
“You’re
all brothers and sisters on a common journey toward your true potential. You
have the power of God with you. You’ve always had it. You’re as free as you
ever will be. If your experience seems to be lacking in this freedom, it’s only
because you have been fettered in chains of your own forging. Lift up your head
and look. See with your true eyes and you’ll never again be in bondage to
yourself or to another. My will for you is really your own will for yourself.
“All power
in heaven and earth have been given to you. All, except one. You don’t have the
power to destroy life, even your own. No one has that power. It is Mine and
Mine alone. Life is My greatest gift to you and I per-mit no one to destroy it.
Even when it appears that life has been destroyed, it’s only an illusion you
see.
“There are
those who say that they’ve found Me and rejoice in their discovery. They’ve
only found themselves for I’ve never been lost. You, my son, are as valid as I
am.
When
you can honestly say to yourself, ‘I and my Father are One,’ then
you’ll be a master of the universe. You see, I am you in spirit
as much as you are Me in becoming.” God ceased speaking and the party
grew quiet. Then all of a sudden, I was alone. But there was an overwhelm-ing
sense of power and knowing within me. A voice, still and small, spoke in my
head, “We are one — all in one and one in all. The good that you do, you do for
yourself.
The evil that one does is his alone.”
Suddenly,
I was startled to find myself in my bedroom, wide awake. It was now very late
and I had experienced much and, hopefully, learned a lot. Perhaps, I shall
again see Gideon and Marla. But now I know that, forever and ever, they and
those I love will always be with me; that God has always been, is, and always
will be with me.
It
was time to be about my work, to seek the bliss beyond the appearances of the
now. This is not an end-ing. It’s not even the beginning of an ending. It’s
simply a beginning and so be it.
The End? The Beginning? You choose
A
letter from the author
Dear Reader:
If you have
arrived at this point, you have traveled far. You’ve sat in on conversations
with Gideon and Marla and you’ve seen John as he struggled to make sense of
what appeared, at times, to be a senseless world. But this is not the end. If
you recall, the last paragraph of “When You can Walk on Water, Take the Boat”
spoke of “endings” and “beginnings.”
Every ending implies a new beginning. Every beginning is the start of
a glorious adventure. And the adventure never ends. Like all adventures, there
are moments of fear, joy, peace, sorrow, turmoil, anxiety, anticipation and any
emotion you could think of. This is life.
If you take a moment or two, every once
in a while, to sit still and listen to your heart, you’d find that your world
is safe and that
there is no
problem without a solution. But you’ve got to learn to trust—trust life, your
God, your very being. And as you trust, you’ll see that your problems start to
disap-pear as mist before the morning sun.
If you
enjoyed “When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat,” tell your friends. They
can download their own personal copies from my website. All they have to do is
go to
Is this the end--the final appearance--for Marla, Gideon and John? No,
indeed! The adventures continue in the sequels, “Morn-ing Has Been All Night
Coming” and “Jour-ney in the Fields of Forever.” To find out more about these
books, please visit
My latest book is called “The Power Pause-- 3 Minutes, 3 Steps to
Personal Success and Real Happiness.” Like my other books, it’s written in
story form and explains the amazing, simple formula to achieve your greatest
dreams. Find out more about it at
“I have read John Harricharan’s book (When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat) and am fascinated by it. I highly recommend it as a happy and resourceful tool.”
Raymond Moody, M.D.- author, Life After Life
“...as delightful and profound as the title. It’s one you’ll want to sit down and read in an evening, marking comments and sen-tences as you go.”
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(it) led me towards the light.”
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, M.D.- author, On Death and Dying
“I read it straight through — couldn’t put it down.”
Sanaya Roman - author, Living With Joy
“When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat,is a gentle reminder that the truth works in mysterious ways.”
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“When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat is a needed reminder of the inner power we all possess and an inspiring story for anyone struggling with life’s problems.”
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“John Harricharan’s, When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat is eloquent and touch-ing. It is the discovery of truth and love that we must all make sometime in our life”
Deepak Chopra, M.D.- author, The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success
“John Harricharan brings the gift of a re-freshing perception which leads to the doorway of discovery. I delight in reading his book.”
Alan Cohen - author, The Dragon Doesn’t Live Here Anymore
“When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat, is a friendly oasis of wisdom that will help you make sense of this often madden-ing experience we call living. You won’t finish this book unchanged.”
Paul Zuromski - Founder, Body, Mind and Spirit magazine
“When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat is a remarkable book and I relished page after page of what was expressed. It’s simply too good a piece of material to be limited... .”
Kreskin - World’s Foremost Mentalist
“When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat, is a remarkable book! It has stayed with me for many months and I find myself going back to it for solace.”
Carol Hyatt - Co-author, When Smart People Fail
Thank you. Thank you, dear reader for joining me on this journey.
Perhaps we shall meet again. May your journey be filled with all good things.
Always.
John H.
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