Chapter 28

I flew out to California the second week in July. During the flight, I sat next to an elderly woman who was going out to visit her niece, a student at Berkeley. We had a pleasant conversation, though we had very little in common. I was most interested in her thoughts on growing older – she was approaching 80 and had been attending funerals every few months for as long as she could remember.

By the time we touched down at the San Jose airport, I was immersed in a very different view of life – one that gave me a strange sense of urgency. This woman had told me about the many adventures she had experienced during her 80 years, and about many of things she wished she had done when she was younger. I realized that I was really only just beginning my life, and that the many adventures to which she was referring were still in my future. Or so I hoped.

And thus I stepped off the plane with a feeling of purpose. I knew I had come to California to learn something, to discover something. I didn’t know what that something might be, but I was determined to remain alert to any and all possibilities.

I rented a car at the airport and drove to the home of a friend living in Santa Clara. It was a Sunday afternoon, and traffic wasn’t too bad. I was struck by how different everything felt in California – the people, the places, the voices on the radio, the weather, the landscape, the air. It felt as though I had stepped into a different world altogether. I would be hard pressed to explain exactly how everything was different – it was all feel and no specifics. But for a while I felt completely out of place, albeit very alive and alert.

I found my friend’s house without any problem – a one-story, two-bedroom abode with a very small front lawn. The adjacent houses were no more than twenty feet to either side. There was a small courtyard in the back. Regarding the house itself, I was most amazed by the thinness of the walls – they seemed nothing more than drywall. I was accustomed to the thick, insulated, winter-resistant walls we built back east, and these seemed so thin that a misplaced fist could easily find the outside.

The friend I was visiting was named Ravi, and he had been my roommate during my senior year at Syracuse. He was now working for an electronic equipment manufacturer in the Bay area, earning twice what I was earning back in Ohio. He was out front waiting for me when I arrived, and after a short tour of the house we went out for dinner – authentic Mexican food, the best I ever tasted.

Over dinner, we caught up on all the things each of us had experienced in the year since we had graduated. Ravi seemed excited at the possibility that I might move out to the coast. He said he could easily get me a position in his department if I was interested. I told him I might take him up on his offer, depending on how things played out.

I spent the next few days seeing the sights and getting a feel for life along the California coast. Ravi took a few days off from work and we spent a day up in San Francisco, drove down Rt. 1 to Santa Cruz, and back up through the mountains.

On Thursday I went into work with Ravi and he introduced me to his boss and a few of his coworkers. It was like night and day, the contrast between the environment there and the one I was growing tired of back in Ohio. The next morning I flew home. This time, there was no elderly woman to talk to, and I was left to ponder whether or not to make the move to the coast.

I reminded myself that all things are temporary, and that there was certainly no risk in moving out for a year or two, just to see where it might lead. I had received a tentative job offer from Ravi’s manager, and it seemed there was no reason why I shouldn’t take it. And so I did. The next day I called and informed him that I was interested in the position. And just like that, my life took a left turn and I was headed to California.

It was agreed that I would start in five weeks, the second Monday in August. Ravi offered me his spare bedroom in return for half the rent (which was still more than I was currently paying in Ohio). But my new salary would more than cover that, and leave me with plenty more to save or spend as I pleased.

I met up with Harry over the weekend and told him about my plans. He was thrilled for me, and told me that he would someday make the trip out to visit. We got together Saturday evening for a barbeque, along with Anne. Anne seemed a bit taken aback when I told her the news, though she quickly congratulated me and wished me luck in my new endeavor. I did, however, have five more weeks to spend with them, and I was determined to make the most of them.

That evening, Anne and I managed to get Harry to tell us more about the time he had spent in Indiana and about this mysterious John character he had stayed with. After dinner, we sat atop Harry’s mound and listened with interest as he told us about John.

Harry: As I said, his name is actually Albert. And as I said, he does not look like an Albert.

Anne: But what does he look like?

Harry: Well, do you remember the television show The Dukes Of Hazard?

Paul: Of course.

Anne: Sure. I watched it as a kid.

Harry: Indeed. And do you remember the movie Charlie And The Chocolate Factory?

Anne: The original or the remake?

Harry: The original. With Gene Wilder.

Anne: Yes.

Harry: Well, John looks and acts like a cross between Uncle Jesse and Willy Wonka.

Paul: Wow! That’s quite a combination.

Harry: You’re telling me. I didn’t know what to make of him at first. Long, white hair pulled back in a pony tail, overalls, bare feet – much like Uncle Jesse. But he moves around like Willy Wonka – light on his feet, a sparkle in his eyes. He often sings or dances, for no apparent reason other than the joy of being alive. He is the most unique person I’ve ever met, though for the first few hours I was sure he was either insane or on drugs. But neither was true.

Anne: But how do you explain his behavior? You said he was a minister. Was he always so eccentric?

Harry: I don’t think so. Perhaps he always was on the inside, and eventually he couldn’t keep it in any longer and that’s what finally drove him away from the church. It’s hard for me to imagine him standing in front of a bunch of people in their Sunday best sitting quietly in pews. But apparently that’s what he did, for many years.

Paul: Okay, so you showed up at this guy’s place at Thanksgiving. Then what? What did you do there? What was it like?

Harry: The property around John’s house is like an outdoor modern art museum. That was my first impression. The house stands in a clearing, surrounded by a ring of weeping willow trees. There are rows of flowers lining the driveway and on either side of the walkway that leads to the front porch.

Hanging from the branches of the willow trees are all sorts of objects. There are colored glass spheres hanging from the upper branches, and shiny metallic objects of various shapes and sizes down near the ground. All of them are hanging from fishing line, which you can’t see from a distance, so it looks like these objects are floating among the trees. I was a bit disoriented by them when I first pulled up to the house. They really do look like they’re floating.

Paul: And what about the house?

Harry: The house is two stories, small, with a chimney. Inside there is a living room and a kitchen on the first floor, and two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. I stayed in one of the bedrooms most nights, though we spent a great deal of time camping down by the stream.

Anne: And it’s a big property?

Harry: Huge. Many acres, I’m not sure how many. It’s actually a farm, though most of the fields are overgrown. There is a barn several hundred yards behind the house. And a big fenced-in area with a pit in the middle for bonfires. John is big on bonfires. There was least one each week during my stay. It’s not in Jasper proper, but several miles to the east. There are lakes nearby, which we visited sometimes. Staying with John is a very outdoor experience. He spends very little time inside, except during the winter.

Paul: Alright, so it’s an interesting place, and John sounds like an interesting guy. But why in the world did you end up staying there for so long?

Harry: Because part of me was already there.

Paul: Where?

Harry: At John’s farm.

Anne: Which part?

Harry: The part I had forgotten about long ago. The part I had sent ahead to wait for me.

Paul: What does it look like, this part? Be specific.

Harry: Let me back up a bit. (pause for effect) When we come here, to Earth, when we’re born on this planet, we only bring part of ourselves with us. Who and what we truly are is far too enormous to fit into one body, one human personality, and so we select certain aspects and preferences and highlight them. The rest of us remains in the background, somewhat dormant, although it is all available to us. But we are focusing our attention very narrowly as physical beings.

Anne: Alright, so what part of you was in Jasper, Indiana?

Harry: The rest of me.

Anne: The rest of you?

Harry: I’m speaking figuratively, of course, since all of me was available all along. But it was at John’s farm, in John’s presence and with his help, that I began to let more of me in.

Paul: Was this your plan all along?

Harry: Yes.

Anne: What, you planned all along to meet up with John?

Harry: Yes.

Paul: Weird. Did he tell you all this? Is he like a cult leader or something? He sounds like a cult leader.

Anne: Paul! Don’t be an idiot.

Harry: No, that’s a legitimate question.

Paul: Of course it is.

Anne: John sounds more like a guru than a cult leader.

Harry: Well, that’s much closer to the truth. But actually, he’s not my guru, nor would he ever agree to such a thing. The days of gurus are coming to an end.

Anne: What do you mean?

Harry: I mean gurus were helpful and sometimes necessary when the human race was still asleep. But it’s waking up now.

Paul: The human race is waking up?

Harry: Indeed.

Paul: I don’t know, it still looks pretty much asleep to me.

Harry: Well, what do you look like when you first wake up in the morning?

Paul: Like crap, probably.

Anne: Yeah, me too.

Harry: So wouldn’t you expect the human race to look pretty groggy and disoriented as it wakes up? And keep in mind, we’ve been asleep for a very long time.

Paul: I suppose. Sure.

Harry: Looks can be deceiving.

Anne: So did John tell you that the human race is waking up?

Harry: We talked about it. Very often, in fact. But I don’t need anyone to tell me. I can see it quite clearly for myself.

Paul: See what?

Harry: That the world is waking up.

Paul: I still don’t know what you mean by ‘waking up’.

Anne: In what way is the world waking up, Harry?

Harry: Individually and collectively, we are widening our awareness to include more of who and what we are. Up until now, we have been exploring a very narrow awareness.

Paul: On purpose?

Harry: Somewhat. Is a five-year-old a five-year-old on purpose?

Paul: That’s a weird question.

Harry: Well, what do you think?

Paul: I don’t think the expression ‘on purpose’ applies. He’s just five.

Harry: Right. And in much the same way, our narrow awareness just is. Or was.

Paul: So what, are we like graduating?

Harry: That’s one way of looking at it. In a way, we are. But not from high school.

Anne: From what, then? How far along is the human race?

Harry: Oh, I would say we’ve been in kindergarten, and now we’re in the process of graduating to first grade.

Paul: What?! Come on, Harry. Look at our society. We’ve got the internet, space travel, fast food. We’ve got it all! How can you say we’re only in kindergarten?

Harry: Oh, sure, we have lots of things. Children are very infatuated with things. But we have only really been playing with toys all this time. Although our toys are very sophisticated. But they are still only toys.

Paul: Well, what else is there?

Harry: You tell me. What else is there?

Anne: Spirit. Love.

Harry: Indeed!

Paul: But we’ve had religion all along.

Harry: We sure have. And how far has it gotten us?

Paul: Well, I’m not a religious person, but if you ask a Christian or a Muslim or a Jew or a Buddhist, they’d probably tell you they have found spirit, they have found love.

Harry: And truth.

Paul: And truth. They have found truth.

Harry: And have they?

Paul: I don’t know.

Anne: Judging by the disharmony in the world, I’d say no.

Harry: Why do you say that?

Anne: Because leaders frequently claim that God is on their side. And that the other side is evil.

Harry: And so their truths seem to conflict with one another.

Anne: Yes. So is anyone right?

Paul: I Doubt it.

Harry: I agree that they have found truth, but not the truth. They haven’t found Truth, with a capital T.

Anne: Is there such a thing?

Harry: Funny you should ask.

Anne: How so?

Harry: Because I’ve begun writing a book, and it’s going to be about truth. And Truth. And the difference between them.

Anne: You’re writing a book? Harry, that’s wonderful!

Paul: I knew you would. Or, I thought you should.

Harry: Me too. And so I’m doing it.

Anne: And it’s going to be about truth?

Harry: Yup.

Anne: Well, good for you. I can’t wait to read it.

Paul: Are you going to be a famous author?

Harry: I hope not.

Paul: What, don’t you want people to read it?

Harry: Of course. I want everybody to read it. Everyone who’s interested in it, anyway.

Paul: Well, if a lot of people read it, you’ll be famous.

Harry: Not necessarily.

Paul: Why not?

Harry: Well, I have no need or desire to be in the spotlight. So after I’m done, perhaps I’ll disappear.

Anne: Disappear?

Harry: In a sense. Retire.

Paul: But why? Couldn’t you be helpful to other people?

Harry: The few people who could actually benefit from contact with me will be able to find me.

Paul: How?

Harry: You can tell them where I am.

Anne: Where are you? Or where will you be?

Harry: I’m sure you can figure it out.

Anne: Oh, right. Indiana.

Paul: So let me get this straight: You’re going to write a book, publish it, and then move to John’s farm?

Harry: That’s the plan.

Paul: And if someone needs to find you, you said I could tell them where you are? Why would anyone ask me where you are?

Harry: Because you are going to publish it for me.

Paul: I am?

Anne: He is?

Harry: If you are willing.

Anne: Are you, Paul?

Paul: This is weird. What kind of plan are you hatching here, Harry?

Harry: A good one, if you ask me.

Anne: I understand. Harry wants to write his book and share it with the world, but he doesn’t want the world pounding on his door. So he’s going to disappear, remain anonymous.

Harry: Sounds about right, yes.

Paul: Hmmm…

Anne: So what do you think, Paul?

Paul: I’ll do it if you help me.

Anne: Me? Sure, I’ll help. Do we get paid?

Harry: Oh, more than you could possibly imagine!

Paul: I like the sound of that.

Harry: So it’s a deal then?

Paul: Sure. It’s a deal. You too, Anne?

Anne: Absolutely.

Harry: Wonderful!

Anne: Let’s celebrate. (raising her glass) To Harry and his book!

Paul: To getting paid!

Harry: To Truth!