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to hitch north to southern Oregon and then spend a few nights on a
beach together.
We got a ride to Trinidad, only fifteen miles north of Arcata, but
then ended up waiting there for a couple of hours without another
ride. It became cold and windy as the sun began to go down, and
eventually we got tired of waiting. I knew there was a nice beach just
a short walk away, even though we hadn t made it far out of town,
so we left the highway and hiked down to Trinidad State Beach, sur-
rounded by spectacular rocky cliffs typical of much of the Northern
California coast.
Neither of us felt like doing much over the weekend. We lazed
around in the sand and sun during the day, did some reading and
swam in the cold ocean waves. On the second evening, as the sun
was setting, we made a fire to warm ourselves and to cook dinner.
After eating and watching the campfire fade into glowing coals, we
lay next to one another in our sleeping bags, staring silently up at the
stars in the moonless night, feeling soothed by the lulling crash of
the waves.
As the night chilled, we huddled together, taking our arms from
our sleeping bags to hold one another. We talked quietly, holding
each other close, squeezing our bodies together, stroking our hands
down each other s backs, and eventually surrendering to the silence,
as we kissed. Suddenly it was as if all of the affection we felt for
one another, unexpressed over the past few weeks of spending time
together, surged forth. Our timidity vanished as we gave in to the
passion that had been building beneath our newly rekindled friend-
ship. It was like an electrical charge, yearning to be released, and we
allowed it to flow freely between us.
We made slow, sweet, gentle love there under the gaze of the stars
and the whispering of dark ocean waves& and then lay quiet and
still in the darkness, holding each other close. We slept long and deep
Kundalini and the Art of Being & 137
through the following morning, curled up together under our pile of
sleeping bags. Later that day, reluctantly, we packed up our things
and hitched back to Arcata, since she had to work in the evening.
Over the next month or so we continued to spend a few days a
week together. Although we shared more physical affection in the
form of cuddling and occasional kisses, that was the only time that
we made love. We must have sensed that we would part ways soon,
and that it was best not to get our lives too entangled. Though we
had a strong connection and much love to share, we knew that, ulti-
mately, we had different paths to follow.
I spent part of my time in Arcata researching communes around the
western U.S., hoping to visit some during the upcoming summer
perhaps even find one to call home for a while. I d bought a copy of
the hefty Communities Directory, which contained descriptions of
over five hundred different communes spread across the country. I
eventually found six that seemed like potential prospects, and sent
away to them asking for more information. After corresponding over
the next few weeks, I decided on two that seemed like the type of
community I was looking for.
One was in Sedona, Arizona, called  Aquarian Concepts. Their
spiritual beliefs centered around a large channeled work known as
The Urantia Book. I had never heard of it, though I had come across
the term Urantia an ancient name for Earth in other spiritual texts.
I continued correspondence with them over the next month, letting
them know that I might stop by for a visit during the summer. They
said that I was welcome to come by and visit and participate in some
of their group activities, and to call once I arrived in Sedona.
The other community was in Twisp, in north-central Washington,
and was called the Methow Valley Collective. It was organized by an
older man named Hanson, who sounded like an eccentric, fun-lov-
ing character a paranormal enthusiast, with a good sense of humor.
The response I got back from him was a large manila envelope with
a friendly letter, a few articles on the community from some local
138 & Gabriel Morris
newspapers, some photos of the land, and an assortment of colorful,
sparkling plastic stars and confetti that poured out of the envelope as
I opened it up. He also said that I was welcome to stop by and visit
and to just give a call whenever I rolled into town.
I spent altogether just two months in Arcata having decided not
to commit myself to school in the fall. Though it was a brief stay for
all the trouble of moving my stuff twice, it yielded some important
insights there, and was able to give a little order to my otherwise
gypsy life of the past year and a half.
I also was finally able to get into a consistent sleep pattern, in
which I had many colorful, complex and intriguing dreams. The
sense that I was working with spiritual beings in my sleep became
almost a norm during that time. Though part of me felt drawn to
contact these beings in a more conscious state perhaps to learn
their identity and my role in relation to them I was also hesitant to
make that leap. As with my experiences in the out-of-body state, I
felt that I wasn t yet ready to handle these other realms; and it was
better not to get involved in something I didn t understand than to
become overwhelmed by it.
Towards the end of May, I started getting the travel bug, curious to
check out the two communes I d selected and see what they were all
about. Once again, despite submitting an application, I couldn t quite
see that I would be going back to school at HSU that fall. And around
that time Amy moved back to Austin to pick up the pieces of her life [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]