Meeting With Christ

Fear not for the Paraclete will come to be with you always

Jesus at the last supper

In this fire I have seen a world

In which every atom is a life-giving breath of Jesus

Rumi

July 1977

A hot and humid day when the world seemed to be taking a siesta to escape the fierce noonday sun. All was silent except the surf breaking upon the sand only yards away. I sat alone in my cabin on the beach in Florida.

Nineteen months have passed since taking my leave of New York in order to study at the Hoshino Clinic in Boca Raton. I met Richard ,the teacher, at the Shiatsu center in New York , where I had been studying the ancient art of Shiatsu- acupressure. Impressed by his demonstration of the Hoshino technique ,and wanting to learn the method , I relocated to Boca Raton , where the clinic was located . I sublet the New York apartment intending to return in one year. Meanwhile I was now living at the ocean within a stone’s throw from the white sandy beach and enjoying life as a forty seven year old Hoshino student and teacher of Hatha Yoga and meditation. Still wearing the scarf of a monk -in- training , having taken vows with Swami Satchidananda just before moving to Florida.

 
Most visitors had left this seaside community for the summer and I was alone with my thoughts and the all-pervading silence. Disturbed only by the soft splashing waves as they broke upon the sand then slid back to the embrace of an awaiting sea .

Living quietly with the ocean as my ever present companion, I filled my days by reading, studying and meditating . The self-imposed discipline of Solitude deepened my meditation practice. And the pacific environment created a perfect setting for ongoing periods of contemplation.

On such an afternoon , I felt the urge to meditate and dissolve into the sea of silence surrounding me. Within moments of sitting , I had the vision and sensation of flames blazing upwards through my ribs as they burned away the dross that was clinging to them. The experience ended as quickly as it began, leaving me enveloped in a peace of incredible magnitude. I felt I had been purified.

Slipping deeper and deeper into the meditative state I entered what appeared to be a long tunnel at the end of which appeared a tiny dot of light. While my gaze remained fixed,, the dot moved closer and closer until it took on the form of Jesus. In a blue robe, arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture and radiating a peaceful demeanor, He floated towards me and entered my body.

…….And we became one. Through my vacant eye sockets the eyes of Jesus now looked out into the world . He completely inhabited my physical form. Our arms lifted skyward and together we hung on the cross. Our head dropped onto our chest as our body went limp. We then rose up and Jesus was replaced by a hugh white dovelike bird which filled my entire upper body. The enormous head replaced my head cavity and enormous wings took over my arms. This great winged bird lifted from me and flew off into the distance. Peering back to make sure that I was following. I knew through direct experience that Spirit and Matter converged in me when Jesus and I became one on that hot July day in 1977. And that I would now be led by the Holy Spirit who would always be present to guide and counsel me

.......just as Jesus had promised his disciples at the last supper centuries ago.

One would suspect that with the Holy spirit in charge , life would become much simpler. However this was not always the case. Too often , my ego would interfere and undermine the beneficial influence of the Holy Spirit. I would have to learn to surrender ( as my good friend Rumi would say ) and follow what spirit tried to indicate without usurping my free will. As long as I Listened to the subtle voice of spirit , life ran smoothly. But when I overrode that intuitive signal from my Spiritual Friend , the Paraclete, life seemed to stall and lose its harmonious rhythm. I would feel out of sync.

From the old testament a certain verse became my mantra….

' Search me Oh Lord, and know my heart

test me and know my inequities.'

These words uncovered many of my shortcomings, which brought to consciousness the need to integrate my indigenous nature. .It was as if a powerful light beam exposed old thoughts , beliefs and actions , that needed a visit to the annihilation clinic to clarify ,modify and when necessary either be expunged and/or integrated. By submitting more often to spirit’s direction , I gained direct knowledge to inner awareness and began to develop A Felt Perception, in my ability to feel the consequences of my thoughts, words and deeds, even before they were set in motion.

The breakthrough

If we are concerned with realizing the ground of being, with understanding who and what we really are, then we have begun a spirituality journey.
John Daido Loori
God's work is the actualization of the potential
Rumi
Let the beauty we love be what we do...
There are many ways to kneel and kiss the ground
Rumi


Begins the Odyssey

I did not know I had begun a spiritual journey when I began to question who I was and what I was doing here. I only realized
there was a great disturbance within me, something was crying to be addressed and I came in touch with the causes while going through the ARICA training in New York City.It was spring of 1975 and my life was about to change

A young and rather pleasant young lady whom I had just met through friends, spoke about a fort;y day program she had just completed and suggested I might look into it. When I asked questions about the training she was very enthusiastic but general in her answers. Not wanting to reveal too much regarding the program. This only increased my curiosity and with some trepidation I enrolled in the ARICA program. Little did I know how unravelled I would become during the weeks ahead...discovering that I was not who I thought I was and more important, seeking forgiveness from the many persons I had hurt in the past.

It was a process of clearing the blackboard of my mind of past conditionings,prejudices, opinions, guilt and shame harbored through the years and all other overlays or "veils" as Rumi would say,which prevented clear thinking and pure insights.

The ARICA training was held in a loft at Park Avenue South in Manhattan. I was put in the group having to deal with unfinished business with their fathers and I immediately clashed with the facilitator because I was certain that our filial relationship was and solid. Free of any hidden agendas. Dad had passed on a few years prior to this workshop and I felt we had parted as friends.
But during the group work I soon discovered otherwise. There was an old memory lingering in my subconscious memory bank. Like smoldering embers they eruppted into a full blown blaze during a late night meditation where both parents came into my darkened bedroom. Both were deceased but very present during this meditation

In the darkened room , late at night, I sat before the small altar and called forth first mother and then father to know the truth about my relationships with both of them. The love and affection between my mother and myself came through with great clarity. However upon calling in my father the scene immediately shifted to an incident which took place when I was eight years old.. I was transported back in time to the basement apartment . And with incredible accuracy every detail was present as I sat screaming and crying while watching my; father beating mama in the adjoining room. Neighbors and family came running to quell the ugly chaos happening before my terrorized eyes. An aunt was holding me as I screamed unconsolably over and over again..",I HATE MY FATHER AND WILL NEVER BE LIKE MY FATHER," . with that a ball of pain deep within my belly came roaring up and out with a piercing scream breaking the silence of my New York apartment.
In a fraction of a second, like a fast forwarding tape, my entire life until then, sped past and I saw how I distorted my life not to be like my father. Even more distressing was the truth that I never forgave my father for that terrible day, when in a rage, he had beaten mama unmercifully .
In that moment of truth I realized that my father always knew until the day he died, that I never forgave him..I never deceived him...only myself.
Shocked by the truth revealed during this meditation, I was determined to live as honestly as possible from that day forward. I did not know I was on the path of Self discovery ;but thanks to my processing at the ARICA training I became aware that major clearing was happening with this long postponed mental housekeeping.

Diary of a Holy Fool

With the intent to explore what is hidden, know the infinite, be receptive to the mystery, and open one's heart to the powers within.
Vincent
God's work is the actualization of the potential
Rumi
He is best to grant recompense and the best what is to be
Shams of Tabiz

The path of enlightenment is a journey of the spirit . It is one of discovering our true Self, the authentic being which abides at the very center of one's consciousness and attempts to answer the eternal question ", Who am I ", ?

Everyone arrives at that point in life when there seems to be a vast emptyness about us. Life seems to hold little or no meaning. Somehow we feel a sense of aloneness and detachment from all around us, And we wonder "', Who AM I " ?...." What am I doing here "?

This is my story and I refer to it as "The Diary of a Holy Fool ". In the ensuing pages I invite everyone to travel with me to explore what I came to know as the inner landscape. It is a journey of wonderment and surprises. It consists of peaks and valleys...and some plateaus when nothing seems to be happening.

I will begin in the valley . At a time when outward success was a distracting camouflage for the rumbling discontent bubbling beneath the surface of my consciousness. In time I would come to realize that I was having a crises of the spirit. ...and the desert abided within me.

An Opening

It was my custom to go out on Friday nights to enjoy a few drinks with friends.

A distraction I used to escape from the rumbles of discontent and disappointment that cast a shadow over my otherwise pleasant demeanor . But this evening or in the early morning hours, returning to my comfortable apartment on Manhattan's east side, a pall of sadness enveloped me. I had this feeling that everyone was going home to someone except me. That once again I was being left out of the game of life. " Where is my someone "?, I kept repeating to myself. " Is there something wrong with me "? and in the affirmative , There must be something wrong with me ".

Fixing myself a scotch on the rocks and lowering a Barbra Streisand record on the stereo,I hoped to lift myself out of this depression which had overtaken me. But Barbra's haunting voice only spiraled me into an ever deeper morass of gloom. Into a fathomless abyss I sunk deeper and deeper. In a panic I stumbled, with glass in hand, through the apartment looking for something holy something spiritual, perhaps a bible...but there was nothing in my entire book collection that answered my needs. Realizing for the first time that not even a bible had a place amongst my many books. The rooms reflected an emptiness I felt in me. Not able to withstand the cloud of helplessness which had conquered me and not able to suppress the avalanche of tears waiting release, I fell to my knees and pleaded with God not to abandon .

Like a dam that burst ,a torrent of tearstained words gushed forth," God, Dear God, do not throw me out on the slagheap of humanity...make use of me use me...use me", I cried pleadingly.

From the depths of my being the words broke the silence of the morning. I do not know from where they came but I do know they were heard because the crying ceased and a great peace washed over me. Like the calm after a storm I felt myself floating peacefully over a glasslike sea.

In hindsight I can say that I was reborn in the early morning hours of that silent apartment, while Barbra's haunting voice first stunned my failing spirits and then quieted my ailing soul.

I put myself in God's hands and now waited to know in what way God would use me to help and serve. To bring me to an awareness of Who I am and What is my purpose and function.

As this wave of peace swept through me I knew my prayers were answered. A calm, never before experienced, filled me totally, as I surrendered myself to be in service to the Divine.

F R E E D O M

Forever one forever free

I gaze upon the land of me.

The rolling hills and rising peaks,

Announce my being

For all to see.


A sparkling beach

Reflects the sun

My prints in sand

Its all of one.

In any place I chance to roam,

The universe is my home.

Companioned by the angels fair,

My course runs true

and ne'er alone.

For all the worlds abide in me

Immortal I of nature....FREE

Vincent

The Opening

When the student is ready the teacher will appear
ANONYMOUS
Is there no friend for me ?
Shams of Tabriz

Don't we all wonder if there is that special person waiting to fill the void in our lives ? And like Rumi's friend Shams, someone to bear our moods ,depressions , insecurities ,hopes and dreams ?
I harbored the feeling that everyone had someone to go home to but not me.
Little did I realize that "the friend " would appear in the most unlikely garb and in the most unexpected place...


Upon entering the Railroad YMCA in New York City, where I worked out regularly, I spotted an acquaintance all twisted up on one of the mats. He looked sort of comical and with a joking smile I asked him what was he doing . "Doing Yoga Man ,he replied ",with a mischievous grin.
"Yoga, what is that ?" Not even trying to hide my ignorance.
" This is Yoga Stretching..makes you feel good !"
" So what Would it do for me ? Now I am getting curious.
And with a real impish expression on his face, " Will keep you young forever !".
And that was the bait that pulled me into the practice of Yoga ....to be forever young !

Eventually this led to meeting my first spiritual advisor and friend a guru from the East ,Swami Satchidananda .

This is the story of my journey...The Diary of a Holy Fool.and my future guides Brugh Joy and ever constant companion Rumi .

May you find encouragement and guidance as you share with me the wonder filled experiences in the pages ahead. And of course, the Friend you are seeking..your very own divine Self who has been with each of us always...within.

Diary of a Holy

The purpose of this journal is to tell the story of a journey of self discovery.
A journey which began at least forty years ago when I stumbled upon Yoga ( (literally in a Y.M.C.A.) and jokingly asked an acquaintance who was all twisted up on the gym mat, what he was doing.
" Yoga , man, it'll keep you young forever ".
And that was the magic phrase.
I sought out the teacher he recommended and began Hatha Yoga sessions in order to stay young forever !

I did not realize at the time how much my life would change. Leaving a sucessful Designing career ( Women's Sportswear ) giving up my New York apartment and relocating to a tiny shack on the beach in Florida.

My intention was to heal through touch. I began with the study of Shiatsu in
New York City and moved to Florida to advance my skills with the study of Hoshino
Therapy.

This eventually led to further training which will be discribed in the pages to follow.

It is my passion for the great Persian poet Jelaludin Rumi whom I have been reading non-stop since 1993 and which inspires me to share this spiritual journey
with all kindred souls traveling the road to self discovery.
In every line, every phrase , every story Rumi gives meaning to experiences I have had over these years of seeking. It has been a fascinating adventure which I
invite you to join Rumi and Me on the path of this Holy Fool . With the hope that it will bring insights and inspiration to perservere as you allow Rumi to guide the way to Selfhood.