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Living on the Moon

Posted in Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 24, 2012 by javedbabar

Despite there being a full moon tonight, Guru Baba had encouraged Sami to undertake a Dark Moon Retreat. Such were the strange ways of his holy bossman. He was never predictable.

Now back in the boggy part of a field outside Lucerne Village, they studied the moon. Sami felt a new lightness after his prolonged meditation, as if a great burden had been lifted from his soul. Guru Baba was right – death required preparation, as did any important task. Right now Sami’s gaze was floating high and he said, “I wonder what it would be like to live on the moon?”

“Why wonder?” said Guru Baba. “Why don’t you find out?”

“How can I do that? Is there a special form of meditation?”

“No, no, no! Not everything is about meditation! You youngsters get carried away. That’s why Lao Tzu said, Those who know, do not speak; those who speak, do not know. People just hear one thing and get stuck on it, like there’s nothing else.”

Sami became self-conscious and said nothing more. Guru Baba sensed his distance and said, “I’m sorry, it’s my pet peeve. Meditation has a purpose, but so does logical thought.” Sami remained quiet. He needed encouragement. “Come on, let’s find out what it would be like to live on the moon.”

Sami said quietly, “Okay, how?”

“You asked a question: What would it be like to live on the moon? Ultimately you must answer all of your questions yourself. Nobody else can do it for you. Let’s break down the components of life on the moon. What will you need to live there? That’s right, some kind of a base or home. What will you make it out of? Yes, materials brought from earth, or mined on the moon. How will you breathe? Yes, using recycled air, maybe via algae-based purifiers. What about light? Yes, you will need to be prepared for very long days and nights – up to two weeks – unless you live at the poles. And temperatures? Yes, there will be huge fluctuations. And gravity? Yes, you will need to compensate for the lack of it, and there could be long-term hazards to health. See, you just ask the right questions and answers present themselves. Please continue yourself.”

Sami said, “Power could be made using solar or nuclear methods. Food could be grown by rotating crops to regulate sunlight, creating radiation protection for them, and introducing insects for pollination. There’s water frozen at the moon’s poles that could be processed. Transport would be easy with the low gravity there, using locally-produced fuel or electromagnetic cannons. Communications would be easy, with no atmospheric diffraction. But…”

“What is it, go on…”

“Being so far from earth. It would feel very isolated.” He thought some more and said, “But the earth would be clearly visible. It would look so beautiful always, like a precious blue pearl. I would love it more than ever.”

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Dark Moon Retreat

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Unknown with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 23, 2012 by javedbabar

Guru Baba said, “Are you scared of death?”

Though he knew that his holy bossman was full of surprises, Sami was often unprepared for his questions. Sami had been given the day off, yet told that he’d be “working all night,” and here he was in a field beneath a full moon, being asked about death. He’d never really given it much thought. He said, “I suppose I am.”

Guru Baba grabbed his hand and said, “Come on then!”

Sami resisted. “Where to?”

“To death! Let’s go there!”

What was he up to? Sami turned to face him and said, “Guru Baba, I don’t want to die yet.”

“Why not? Practice makes perfect!”

Sami pulled away. “What do you mean by that? You’re scaring me now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. It’s just that the best way to prepare for anything – a race, a test, a holiday – is to engage in some practice. There is an ancient method to prepare for your death called the Dark Moon Retreat, performed during the darkest lunar phase.”

“But Guru Baba, there’s a full moon tonight. That’s why we’re out here.”

This stopped the sage in his tracks. “Ah! So there is!” He looked rapidly from side to side before his gaze settled on some farm outbuildings. “No problem. Let’s go over there.”

Guru Baba climbed over a barbed wire fence. “Shouldn’t we get permission to come here?” said Sami.

“No, no, no need for that. Come on over. The Egyptians used to meditate in pyramids. The Teotihuacanos too. Holy men and women would enter their inner chambers alone and spend the night there, removed from all sources of light and sound, yet filled with visions of the inner workings of worlds. We don’t have any pyramids here, so this will do. Let’s have a go.”

Sami was bemused by the choice of an A-frame barn as a pyramid stand-in, but held his tongue. Guru Baba said, “It is a restricted practice, only for use under appropriate spiritual guidance. Do you think I qualify for the role of spiritual guide?”

Guru Baba was one of the world’s leading holy men, recently retired to “that lovely village with the white mountain above it.” Sami smiled and nodded.

He was instructed to sit cross-legged on hay bales and breathe slowly in and out. “Lose all of your thoughts,” said Guru Baba. “Keep only the gaps between them. Look at the spaces.” He waited a while, and said, “Good. Whether we live or die, we are always connected. We have seven spiritual centres in our bodies, infused with seven colours, and connected with seven planets. Now focus on these centres, planets and colours, and recite these seven holy syllables.” He broke off for a moment to think up some words, and then said, “I am Sa-mi so am I.”

Sami did as he was told. At first he felt the hay prickling his bottom.

Then he was aware only of his words.

Then the centres.

Then colours.

Then planets.

There was a sequence of degeneration where all words, centres, colours and planets fell away. Sami saw reality clearly – who he was truly – and then experienced terrifying hallucinations – who he had been in lesser forms.

Guru Baba watched Sami’s rainbow body shining. It illuminated the whole barn. He sensed fluttering above. “Poor bats,” he thought. “So confused. Maybe this will enlighten them too.”

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Full Moon Party

Posted in Global Travel, Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , on August 22, 2012 by javedbabar

Sami was enjoying his night out with Guru Baba more than he’d imagined. Being given the day off by his holy bossman was great, but he hadn’t been happy about its consequence, which was working all night. But working tonight seemed to involve walking around fields under a full moon, chatting. It wasn’t so bad.

Guru Baba asked, “Did I tell you about when I went to a Full Moon Party? No? Well I should! It was a great experience. I don’t usually like big parties. They are too crowded, too noisy, they go on too late, the toilets are disgusting, and drinks are so expensive!”

“You mean alcoholic drinks?” said Sami. “I didn’t know that you drank.”

“Occasionally,” said the sage coyly. “Why not?”

“You are a world famous holy man; I thought you’d want to set an example.”

“I do, don’t I? I think that you should enjoy yourself. Do you know that Lord Krishna stole butter as a child, and danced all night with married women? He is known as the Supreme Enjoyer. He’s my example.” Sami didn’t know what to say.

Guru Baba continued, “Anyway, about the party. I was taken by a friend to a beautiful, crescent-shaped beach with bone white sand. Many disc jockeys – you still call them that, don’t you? – had set up their sound systems, right along it. They played all kinds of tunes – house music, reggae, R&B – is that rhythm and blues? – and fast crazy music that my friend said was called psychedelic trance. I don’t know if people there were taking drugs or not, as there was a visible police presence, or maybe they were in on the action too. We danced all night, and then had food and drinks, then danced some more, and rested in the surf as the sun rose.”

Sami was enthralled by Guru Baba’s story. He’d never been to any parties like that. It sounded amazing.

“There were no barriers that night, no inhibitions, just enjoyment. Everybody was drawn there by the moon, creating unified intentions. You could feel the moon magic.

“People seemed ghostly, and they spun and blew white fire. Couples circled each other like the moon and earth, their tattoos like mysterious lunar markings. Somebody gave me a coconut chopped in half. When I peered into it, it looked like the full moon. On their bodies people had painted neon pink, orange and green messages about the moon and stars, and magic and love. Most people ended up in the sleep area – doing just that – making love.”

“What did you do, Guru Baba?”

The sage smiled coyly. “Didn’t I tell you that Krishna was my role model, the Supreme Enjoyer?”

Sami was embarrassed by this revelation and tried to move the conversation on. “Such great fun you had before becoming a holy man, Guru Baba.”

“What are you talking about? It is since I became a holy man. I went to that party last month, while you were away visiting your grandma.”

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Light Fever

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 21, 2012 by javedbabar

“Does the moonlight make you feel different?” asked Guru Baba.

“In what way?” asked Sami. As the holy man’s assistant, Sami was used to indulging Guru Baba, and tonight was no different. He had been given the day off but told that he would be “working all night.” After walking along the canal trail, they had stopped in a field to admire the full moon.

“Do you feel more alert, or less? People respond to moonlight in different ways.”

Sami could say that he felt less alert because it was early evening, when he should be home resting rather than out working. Instead he took a moment to tune into himself, and said, “I should be feeling tired, but I am feeling light, like I’m floating.”

“Very good! Moonlight affects many things in this world – humans, animals and plants too!” Guru Baba scanned the boggy ground, spotted a clump of what looked like rushes, and walked over to them. “Look at these legumes. In the day their leaves are horizontal to soak up maximum sunshine, but at night they change their position to vertical. Why is this? Because they need to sleep. They don’t want too much moonlight, it disturbs their timings.” He called Sami over and pointed within the rushes. “See that little snake there?” He pointed to a grey and black banded snake about a foot long. “He hides during full moons too.”

Sami said, “But aren’t there animals that hunt at night, and flowers that bloom at night? My grandma had flowers she called night lilies…”

“You are right! There are plants that love long nights of moonlight. The sun is too strong for them, they prefer low-intensity light. Did your grandma have lots of night flowers?”

Sami tried to recall. “Yes, she did. She called it her moon garden. Her white and silver flowers stood out in the moonlight, like stars in the ground. They were so beautiful. My sister called them moonas.”

Guru Baba fumbled with his orange robe beneath the waist. He produced a book. “Read this,” he said. The page was bright and Sami started reading, but the letters were vague and soon faded.

“Ha!” said Guru Baba. “The moon wants you to rest and not work. That’s her trick. She won’t let you read at night. And see how she steals colours? Remember that snake? He looked grey and black, but he was really red and yellow. The moon wants peace, not bright colours.” Then he smiled and said, “But she lets you work if you really need to. Without the Harvest Moon how would farmers ever gather all of their ripe crops?”

He pointed to a tall fir, glowing white, and said, “Look at that, a moonlight collector.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sami.

“Why do you think it grew so tall and strong? It’s reaching upwards. Did you know that seeds were taken to the moon by astronauts and then germinated on earth? Their genes have now spread all over the world. That tree wants to visit home.”

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Earth, Moon and Sun Aligned

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on August 20, 2012 by javedbabar

Guru Baba had brought his assistant Sami into a field at dusk, saying that he must stay there all night, “learning lessons from the Man in the Moon.” When Sami asked why, Guru Baba got angry and said, “Because I said so! I know more than you!” Then he told him about Yoshitoshi, the Japanese artist who had made a series of woodblock prints called One Hundred Views of the Moon.

Guru Baba took Sami’s arm and said, “Let’s walk this way,” leading him towards a boggy area. Sami was about to suggest a different direction, but decided to hold his tongue.

Their feet began squelching. Sami was wearing boots but Guru Baba wore sandals and his feet became mud clumps. They reached a natural pond, partly covered with lilies, and stopped to inhale their lush aromas. Guru Baba gave a low laugh and pointed to a darker corner of the pond and said, “Look at the moon in the water.”

Maybe Guru Baba was on to something. Sami really should improve his observation.

It was barely dusk. The faint moon in a pale blue sky was even fainter in the water. It was barely visible. When he focussed upon it though, there it was, with the same strange play of light and dark across its face. It was subtle and hopeful, always changing but always whole. He realized that he didn’t really understand why the moon waxed and waned, or at least why it appeared to do so from earth.

“Do you feel drawn towards it?” asked Guru Baba. Sami half-nodded. “The earth and the moon are attracted to each other. It’s nothing strange, just the same power we experience everyday – gravity. But the earth doesn’t let the moon steal its possessions, so the moon just tugs a little at the water.”

“That’s what causes the tides, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is. The oceans’ waters rise and fall according to the moon’s position, with a  little help from her brother sun. The highest and lowest tides are when their pulls are combined, when earth, moon and sun are aligned. These alignments formed the basis of ancient calendars.”

Sami looked at the pond again but the moon was gone. He had to step forward to see it now; it moved more quickly than he’d realized. Guru Baba continued, “And it doesn’t just affect tides. It affects all water. That’s why it’s better to plant crops at certain times of the month, when moisture is nearer the surface.”

“Does water creates mirages?” said Sami.

Guru Baba said enigmatically, “Maybe it does.” He adjusted his robes at the back in an unseemly manner. “But most of all the moon affects us. Yes, it affects unbounded bodies of water like the earth’s oceans, but it also affects our smaller, bounded oceans. The moon affects our dreams and fertility. It alters our blood, organs and brains. That’s why I behave the way I do sometimes. I am being visited by the Man in the Moon.”

Sami was confused by the moon sometimes being masculine and sometimes feminine. Maybe that was a lesson in itself.

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Hours of the Moon

Posted in Conceptual Art, Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , on August 19, 2012 by javedbabar

Guru Baba gave his assistant Sami the day off, “But only the day!” he said. “Tonight you will stay up working!”

“May I ask doing what?” said Sami. He was accustomed to Guru Baba’s mysterious utterances, but there was no harm in trying to glean some extra information.

The bearded sage adjusted his orange robe beneath the waist in an unseemly manner, and smiled. He said, “You will see!” He also adjusted the tilt of his turban. “You will see!”

Guru Baba’s first year of retirement to “the nice village with the white mountain above it” had been a confusing period. There were concerns that this famous holy man was suffering from dementia. Many global leaders had come to see him, thinking that he may soon die – it was a valuable PR opportunity not to miss out on! – but here he was in tip-top shape. Sami had given up trying to understand the man. He had developed a deep fondness for him, even when he was being very annoying, like now.

Sami didn’t want to have the day off and work all night. He made another attempt at extracting information. “Guru Baba, what for?”

“What for? What for? Because I said so! I know more than you! Come here at six o’ clock tonight or don’t ever bother coming here again.”

Sami spent the day watching movies and cleaning the house. He should do it more often, not let it build up like this into a disaster zone. Did spiders really think they’d catch sumptuous dinners in his apartment? Bug screens kept all the insects out, but seemed to have no effect on fluff and dust.

Sami appeared at six p.m., as instructed, at the Transparent Temple. Guru Baba said cheerfully, “Come on, let’s go for a walk.” They walked along the canal trail for a kilometre before turning off into a field. “Look,” said Guru Baba. “There’s the moon.”

This was true. Though it was not yet dusk, a full moon had appeared, more grey than white, in a pale blue sky. Guru Baba said, “You will be learning lessons from the Man in the Moon tonight.” Then he produced a sketch pad and pencil from beneath his robes and said, “Draw the moon.”

“But I can’t really draw,” said Sami. He’d never enjoyed art class.

Sami recognized the signs when Guru Baba was angry. His nose drew up and he shouted, “Draw it! Drawing is just looking! Look at it!”

Sami did the best he could. There was nothing to draw really, just a circle with some shading. “Well done,” said Guru Baba in a conciliatory fashion.

They continued looking. The sage said, “Do you know the Japanese artist Yoshitoshi? He made a series of woodblock prints called One Hundred Views of the Moon. They are very beautiful, and so surprising and original, with lovers, warriors, old women, children, farmers, and monkeys all looking at the moon. They are entranced by it. I want you to always look at the moon like that. Yoshitoshi was the last master of woodblock printing before photography and other forms of mass reproduction destroyed it. His life represents one man’s struggle against time. He eventually lost. We all do. But while he was alive he was always looking.”

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Creative Journey

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 11, 2012 by javedbabar

The man left the myriad reflections of the crystal cave and climbed again, braving the upper slopes of the dark mountain. He was above the tree line, negotiating bare rock patches and loose rocks. His groping caused a few rocks to tumble. Most rolled freely though some caused small slides. The chances of another person being below him were remote. He was unconcerned.

It took a full day of climbing to reach the top. It wasn’t pretty up there, just bare black rock with shattered masses, but the view down the valley was stunning. He saw the turquoise lake, down the black river, and the forests and fields along its sides. He couldn’t see Lucerne village because of a bend in the valley, but he saw the white mountain towering above it like a guard.

A week ago he had awoken atop this white mountain, unknown and alone, feeling compelled to reach its dark sister. Now he was here. To what end?

What should he do in this inhospitable terrain?

It seemed the end of a pointless journey.

There was nowhere else to go.

He saw a flat rock whose top flashed strongly. Its surface was flush as if carved by a master, and a mark upon it caught his eye. It was another petroglyph, like those he’d seen at the crystal cave indicating ascension and expansion, but his one was pointing in three directions at once – everywhere. What was its meaning?

A sunset ravished and hued the valley golden, then eased into bronze, then silver. The man from the mountain sat on the flat rock. He recreated his journey here – from the white mountain, to the village, past farms, along the river, through forest, staying at the strange steel cabin, four nights of passion at Samhala, exploring his soul’s facets at the crystal cave, and finally completing his ascent of the dark mountain.

Every journey has a purpose – it must have, otherwise why would you make it?

Either an overt one or a covert one.

A desire to reach or to escape something.

What was his purpose?

He had once met the holy man Guru Baba, who told him that “the journey is the destination”. He had never quite understood its meaning, but sitting on the flat rock, he realized that its inscription symbolized both his journey and destination.

He was wherever he was.

He was it.

He didn’t know if he fell asleep, or if he’d never woken, for when he opened his eyes he was on a white mountain with great views in most directions. He saw forests, lakes, rivers, and other mountains, including a dark one at the far end of the valley.

It was time to begin again. Would it be the same journey or a different one? That was for him to choose.

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Ascension and Expansion

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 10, 2012 by javedbabar

I was tempted to stay in the crystal cave. Yes I’d found it by chance, on my way from the white mountain to the dark one, but I’d witnessed so many versions of myself refracted there that I could spend the rest of my life reflecting. The light was alluring and the forms were entrancing. Forever seemed a long time but also graspable. It would be easy to stay here, mesmerized.

I was distracted by a chink of light, and saw that the crystal before me held markings. They aligned as an equal-sided triangle. One edge was flat against me; the other two tapered to a point directed outwards. It was a message to move.

I recalled meeting a holy man called Guru Baba. He had told me about the Two Laws of the Universe. The Law of Attraction was “know what you want”, and the Law of Karma was “you get what you give” But he also said that Karma means action.

You cannot just sit on your ass, staring at your navel, thinking nice thoughts. Direction is required. Things don’t just happen of their own accord, they happen to you, because of you, via what you think, do, and say.

This recollection snapped me out of my daze. I took a long look around. There were reflections and refractions of my many facets. I saw the many me’s that were, are, and could be. Then I walked out of the chamber along the amber tube.

I thought about my journey thus far. I had awoken, unknown and alone, atop the white mountain, compelled to reach the dark mountain with the pulsing red star above it. I had gone to the village seeking shelter, but had instead been called an Abomination and chased out of town. I had wandered past farms, along the black river, and through the forest, till I reached a strange cabin, where I’d found a prophetic pioneer’s diary. The people of Samhala had welcomed and seduced me, and asked me to set a wooden man ablaze. I had been soothed by hot springs and found the crystal cave, which I was now leaving.

Why had these strange things happened? What was their purpose?

When I reached the cave entrance, I saw another petroglyph on the rock outside. I had walked the other way before, and must have missed it. It was a second equilateral triangle, this time pointing upwards.

The bearded elder of Samhala had spoken of the Tree of Life, whose energetic qualities were those of ascension and expansion. By journeying to the crystal cave, deep within the mountain, I had expanded my self-awareness. Now I must ascend.

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Crystal Cave

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , on August 9, 2012 by javedbabar

The forest spa was unexpected. He hadn’t imagined finding a moss-lined pool, fed by a hot spring, half way up the dark mountain. In truth he hadn’t known what to expect since he’d awoken, unknown and alone, atop the white mountain at the far end of the valley, and felt compelled to walk towards its dark sister.

It was tempting to stay camped there but he decided to continue climbing. The forest became lighter and it was dotted with small meadows, filled with red and blue flowers. He thought of the red hair and blue eyes of the girl in Samhala with whom he’d spent four nights.

There were hollows in a nearby bluff. His curiosity got the better of him and he approached the largest opening. He called out hello, and threw in some stones to scare out animals. A lone bat flew into view and disappeared again.

He walked in a few metres and stood for a while, allowing his eyes to adjust to gloom. He was surprised when the gloom disappeared quickly, easing into an amber glow. It reminded him of some fossils he’d seen when at school – insects encased in fiery light, which seemed still alive. There was an earthy sweet smell, reminiscent of a marine animal.

He saw that the cave was more like a tube, formed of translucent orange stone with hints of cherry and lemon. These colours vanquished darkness.

The smooth glowing tube invited his entry. Though he held no source of light, the amber light was sufficient by which to navigate. It was initially quite consistent but after a hundred metres began to dim. He considered going back, but decided to push on further in case the light improved. After a patch of near darkness the light increased rapidly. It went from smoky orange to amber, to tangerine, to pale resin.

The amber tube opened into a vast crystal chamber. The man from the mountain said, “My God!” and then was dumbstruck. White crystals were oriented in every direction, some the size of fingers and others as big as trees, growing upwards, downwards, horizontally, and diagonally. It seemed that they were supporting each other, battling each other, pointing and lifting. These countless crystals had endless facets, refracting and reflecting. Within them the man saw many differing facets of himself.

He was a child, an adult, and an old man, all at once.

He had masculine and feminine sides.

He was a father, brother, and son.

He was loved and hated…

Known and unknown…

Together and alone…

He was sane and insane…

Dreaming and awake.

The man from the mountain was all of these things, yet had in truth transcended them. These many versions of himself were concentrated into this one present version. He saw both the microscopic structure and the macroscopic shape of his crystal self. There was an orderly pattern repeating in all spatial dimensions.

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Lost Lake

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , on August 8, 2012 by javedbabar

I could have stayed at Samhala for longer, but their need was satisfied. Their vessel had been filled. They gathered in the hard dirt courtyard at the centre of the village, and wished me farewell. It didn’t seem like I had another option.

The red-haired girl who had been my lover of the past four nights was not amongst them. The bearded elder who had welcomed me initially, crossed his arms across his heart and turned his back upon me. Everybody else did the same.

I continued my journey from the white mountain where I’d awoken a week ago, alone and unknown, to the dark mountain at the far end of the valley. I reached its foothills and the land began to rise. Vegetation was sparse and my progress was faster than I’d expected.

It was old growth forest, ravaged by fire, creating a strange world of towering black pillars with whispering winds. The ground cover had recovered somewhat but was easy to wade through. My feet kicked up ashes and soot. This was more bush-blacking than bush-whacking, I mused.

I rounded a curve and the whispering became a throaty roaring. It wasn’t the wind as I had supposed, but a creek dropping as a powerful waterfall. It seemed a hundred foot cotton candy machine, endlessly producing froth. Its mist was refreshing; it tickled my skin.

The rise was steep but negotiable. I climbed up beside the waterfall, constantly tired yet refreshed. The sky brightened unexpectedly as I neared the top. A beautiful turquoise lake appeared, maybe a hundred metres across. There was a jumble of sticks in the centre, and clouds floating at its far end.

I rested near the head of the waterfall, and considered remaining in its cool, frothy rainbows forever. There were pink and golden flashes in the lake – probably trout. I later managed to catch one, and baked it in ashes. Its pear-like flesh was very good, though it tasted quite earthy. Were there special minerals in the lake?

At dusk I saw slim shapes rippling through water near the jumble of sticks. They were beavers coming and going. One swam within ten metres of me but sensed my presence and slipped away. Maybe I imagined it, but the jumble of sticks seemed bigger later. Were the beavers bolstering their defences?

I slept where I was, and in the morning went to the far end of the lake. The curious clouds were still there, as if seated at their favourite spot. The water was warm in that part of the lake. I saw that a steady flow ran into it from the forest, and followed this stream to its source.

A small moss-lined pool was steaming. This was the source of the clouds. It was natures gift to me – the ultimate luxury, a forest spa. I spent all day there, looking at the patterns in the clouds, and those in the sky.

The red pulsing star I had followed was still there above the dark mountain. The star’s pulsing became beating, which became drumming. I felt that my final drama approached.

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