The Greatest Weekend — No. II
* Uncertain if my true love would ever be mine, I fell to my knees . . . praying for her affection. It was . . . a Sunday. I was scheduled to serve as an altar boy at St. Ludwig’s Catholic Church. Got there early, and knelt upon a padded “kneeler” used mostly for “40-Hour” devotions, a Lenten thing, I believe. Wore a black cassock and a white surplus. Closed my eyes, bent my head and petitioned for Love.
Prayed for Geraldine McFadden’s love. But got something far greater – the Love of God. Feeling so much pain, so much sorrow and an unbearable longing for the young girl, I know now that I had somehow entered another realm. Another consciousness.
The passage of time got lost. My yearning, desire and heart-ache came to an end. And I felt what I can only describe as the Presence of the Almighty. I was at peace. In love and receiving love right then and there. The one I had met at the party [the night before] lost all relevance. I needed “nothing.” Desired “nothing.” I became “nothing.” The “Nothing” mystics use to speak [because] of their inability to describe . . .God . . .[the] . . . Beloved . . . [the one True] . . . Love.
The past weekend was so memorable, I need time to “take in” its impact. Want to be “objective.” Need the distance of time to look back with less emotion and the sense of Euphoria I now have.
It started with two women who “channelled” for love and compassion during a two and a half-hour meeting Friday night. Less than 12 hours later, I linked it with 13 straight hours where I merged “in Congress” with hundreds of thousands of Kabbalah students worldwide via the Internet. Felt a mystical “tug” every hour either from another person or through some Source coming from within me. Understand why something as powerful as this Kabbalah secret was kept hidden until now, a time humanity seems to be more ready for its wide dissemination to all with no sex, age, religious or marriage restriction.
On Sunday, I prostrated, humbling myself to the Buddha that has enabled me to touch Nirvana, during the briefs seconds I’ve “lost myself” through meditation. I offered up merits and confessed wrongs at a two-hour Buddhist service. I then attended a Tibetan Singing Bowl “Sound Bath” where vibrations purified my soul. Filled so much with unadulterated love, I did not want to return to this corporal world. Like a young David, I wanted nothing else except engaging with God through the sounds of a harp praising Him psalm after psalm.
My weekend soured higher while walking a Labyrinth in the Full Moon during two hours I was “awakened” last night, realizing I was no longer captive by the ghosts of the Vietnam War, and that my new “troops” would not be platoon soldiers, but a “brethren” of “Highly Sensitive Persons” (HSPs) brought together for spiritual and perhaps, mystical encounters.
Could not think of another time in my life when so many “highs” were occurring in such a short period, than when I was a 12-year-old, “remembering-the-greatest-time-of-my-life.“
(* The excerpt above is from that weekend)