For the “Path to Light” series, Michael McIntyre conducts an interview for the Community Communique with a speaker who wishes to remain anonymous. This interview was conducted in February of 2014. You are reading Part 3 of 3.

< PART 3 >

MM: All right. Thanks. So what happened next? You’re right, I’m not very good at this.

XX: I’ll interview you next time.

Yeah, we’ll call it the “Sominex Chronicles”!

Ha, ha. I’ll just take the ball and run with it.  At one point Kindche started throwing all these books at me; most of it was Oriental and Eastern stuff. At one time he had lent me five or six different books on different types of yoga: hatha, kundalini, bhakti, raja, and the Gita. He would ask me what I thought and then make little remarks to steer me. Most of the time he would simply call things to your attention or inquire if you had noticed this or that. It was all on a very friendly basis. It wasn’t “teacher/student”; he was quite unassuming, inconspicuous to most people. Often he just observed and would make these short “hum” sounds, knowing if he spoke it would require too much or go over people’s heads anyway. Give you an example: One day I asked him, “So you’ve introduced me to all these different types of yogas; what kind of yoga do you practice?”

“You wouldn’t know what it is.”

“Well, I understand all this other stuff. I employ it. I do have some understanding.”

“Yeah, so what? You still wouldn’t understand.”

“Come on Kindche, I mean . . .

“All right. It’s kriya yoga.”

“What’s that?”

“See, I told you you wouldn’t understand and you won’t find any books on it anywhere. And you won’t find anyone that’ll show it to you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I already told you, you wouldn’t understand.”

Ok, so here’s the set up. Just follow me here. Kindche had an alarm clock in his bedroom hooked up to an optical sensor. It woke him up at first light, before sunrise, everyday. Once he remarked, as we were traveling on the highway, “I don’t know why people flicker their brights so other drivers will dim their lights. I mean, I can stare into the landing lights of an airplane and read the wattage stamping.” I didn’t know at the time, but kriya means “light.” It wasn’t until shortly after I joined the Community [that] I put this all together, and it struck me: Kindche was solar. And he never let anyone know; not even me, his closest friend. Looking back, he was obviously under some vow. He was also very keen to only give people what they could handle.

Come to think of it, he lessoned me on this vow thing once—only once. We were putting something together—can’t remember what, but I remember the words quite clearly. I asked him this question:  “Why is it I never hear you talking with other people about consciousness and other esoteric things that you and I discuss?”

“What!! Look around you! Pollution in the sky. Pollution in the water. Garbage all over the place. Christ, even public schools pollute kids with nonsense. And so, what? You want me to open the doors to these other worlds so people can pollute that, too? Geez, I thought you were smarter than that.”

That was probably the only time I ever saw him the slightest bit upset. He was so far ahead of the game in any situation [that] nothing surprised him. At seventeen, still in high school, he had a six-bay auto shop in an affluent area, repairing only imports like Mazarati, Mercedes. The bays were almost always full. During the five years we knew each other a lot of things happened.

He calls up one afternoon, “Come on XX, you’ve got to meet this fellow. It isn’t often you run into people like this.” We get to this place, 30 miles out of town, tucked away in a mountain town that is littered with evergreens and these really obscure rock formations. There’s a really famous pie shop there. And we are waiting in this fellow’s living room, waiting for him to come out, for an hour and half.

“Kindche, we’ve been waiting over an hour! Is this guy even here?”

“He’s here. Just be patient. He’s going to see us.”

Finally, this tall blond fellow shows himself in the room, and he is just glowing. You could see this bubble around him. And his face . . . I’ve never since seen a face that was so brilliant. This guy was a goliath, floating on air. We spent ten minutes with him. He was very pleasant but didn’t have much to say. After making our way back to the car, Kindche, in his typical fashion, gives a big smile and says, “So what did you think?”

“The guy is incredible.”

“Yes he is! You know why? Because he spends ten to twelve hours a day alone in a room meditating. And you know what? Anybody can hide themselves away on some mountaintop, do what he is doing, and get to the state he is in. Anybody can do that. But try doing that in the muck and sludge where everybody else is: That takes balls, spiritual fortitude.”

Those are the kinds of episodes you would have with Kindche if he endeared you.

So what happened next? You joined the Community?

Not for another five or six years, which was sort of like an incubation period. A year before joining the Community there were a series of, uh, lets say “ultra dimensional experiences.” These were not just imaginations. I’m not going to go into details, but here’s an example: I wake up one morning after one of these episodes from the night before and for some reason had a curiosity to look at my hands. What comes next really surprised me and has not happened since. My palms were riddled with new markings—over twenty [of them].

Triangles the size of nickles, an angelfish, several stars, rings, and sprouts at the end of lines like branches of a tree. These were all very distinct and new; all etched overnight, a result that coincided with the episode from the previous evening. You can still see them today. After that incident, I was actively looking around for a group of people that could understand these sorts of things, and about six months later there was an invitation to visit Saturday Chapel.

What was that like? What were your impressions?

I was blown away! Just after arriving there, this fellow about 5’ 6” walks up to me and says, “Hi, I’m Gene Savoy.” We’re chatting, looking each other straight in the eyes, but I can’t see his eyes. There’s no iris, no pupil, no white, nothing; and this went on for several minutes. “How does this guy do this? You can’t see his eyes. What’s going on here? What is he doing?” Never had I seen this (or not seen this) before. Later I figured out that if you dart your eyes around real quickly, at close range others cannot see your “eyes.” He was reading me. Anyway, a few other polite introductions, and we filed in for Chapel.

Things start up, and the music floored me! I was the lead singer in a rock band for about a year and half as a teenager, did all the transcriptions for the band, and knew a little bit about music. This stuff this guy was playing on this keyboard or synthesizer, this was good stuff. All the while Gene Savoy, the guy with no eyes, is up there reading what sounded like gnostic writings, and I loved that kind of thing. The whole thing was very captivating and comfortable. It felt like home. A few weeks later they gave me a written test, which I barely passed, but they took me in anyway. I was a good dresser!

So that’s how you got here!

Yes. But that’s just the beginning of the story. The rest is much more interesting.

For the “Path to Light” series, Michael McIntyre conducts an interview for the Community Communique with a speaker who wishes to remain anonymous. This interview was conducted in February of 2014. You are reading Part 2 of 3. 

< PART 1 >

MM: Can you tell us about some of these other characters you mentioned: the Rabbi, Catholic Priest and . . . 

XX:  Sure. Kindche. (XX leans back and looks towards the ceiling, rocking a little bit.) Yeah, Kindche. Kindche was a genius. And not a myopic genius. This guy was spread all over the place. He read five languages, slept five hours a day, [was] vegetarian, [could] fix any car, invented incredible things, could read people on a dime, and played strategic games by mail with people three times his age. Few people knew more about anything on any given topic, even adults.

What do mean by adults? How old was this guy?

A year younger than me; fifteen, at the time.

Fifteen and reads five languages?

Yeah, he was like that. This guy was a sponge. At the same time he was extremely skilled at relating with people, and it didn’t matter if they were five or sixty-five. So Kindche and I are at this lady’s house—he [had] promised to install her newly imported Waterford [crystal] chandeliers; he had a great appreciation for craftsmanship and art [and] could tell you the difference between Matisse and Monet. We get started, [and] he’s fumbling around figuring things out, and something occurs to me: “Hey Kindche, you never did this before! You don’t know how to install lights or chandeliers, do you?”

“No. But this technology is sixty years old; how hard can it be? We’ll figure it out.”

Two hours later we’ve got all three of them hung. The lady offers to pay him; he politely refuses, and they’re having this conversation. Curiously, she asks, ‘So Kindche, how come you’re a vegetarian; is that really healthy?” This diet was taboo at the time. The lady he was talking with was sort of Victorian: didn’t smoke, drink, curse, and was quite proper.

“So Kindche, how come you’re a vegetarian; is that really healthy?”

(Kindche): “Well, I found that people that smoke and drink a lot also eat a lot of meat. That’s why I don’t eat meat.”

(Lady): ”Well, that makes sense. I never looked at it that way.”

He related to her, right where she was. He just honed in. Gave her what she needed to understand. But I sensed his answer was incomplete, and shortly after I hit him up:

“There are probably a lot of reasons why people become vegetarians, poor animals, it’s not humane, it’s too violent and all that.”

“Well sure, XX.”

“But why don’t you eat meat? Is it the humane thing?”

“Ok, XX. You ever been to a slaughterhouse? Here’s what happens. They march these cows up a ramp—and they’re not stupid; they can smell the blood; they know they’re going to die. There is an enormous amount of fear. This horrifying event is the entire compass of their final thoughts, and it is ingrained in every fiber of their body—then you eat it. This trauma is transferred. It affects you. There, does that answer your question?” And he chuckled. He chuckled a lot.

So how did he influence you to eventually join the Community?

Well, we can get to that, but one more story. Ok?

Sure. Go ahead.

He (Kindche) invites me over to his place one afternoon and brings me down to the lower level of the house, which was all his: his bedroom, bathroom, and several rooms which were his workshops. In the main room is this eight-foot table with a stack of drawings on sheets that are 3 ft by 3 ft. Mechanical drawings. Blueprints.

“What is this? Kindche, what are all these blueprints?”

“That’s what I wanted to show you. Look at this. Can you figure out what this is?”

“No.”

“Come on. . . look at it. What is it?”

“I have no idea. I give up.”

“You’re not trying hard enough. Keep looking at it. Nothing? Ok. Try this page. See anything?”

“I’ve never read brueprints before. This, for me, seems complicated.”

“Yeah, well, it is complicated. All right, look here. See this? This is a plasma gel. It stores information, but not like a computer disk. This is 3-D. Got that? Ok, this page here.

Sorry to interrupt. How old is this guy?

Sixteen. Then he says:  “This page here, this is one of the transfer conduits. It measures tiny electrical charges in quantities smaller than millivolts and does some other things. And see these? What do think all these noduled wires are?”

“I don’t know.”

“You couple them on your head like an EEG machine.”

“What for?”

And he paused and smiled at me for a few moments. Then he said: “All right, I’m going to have to give you the simple version. I took these blueprints to the university and had three guys look at them: a biology professor, a physicist, and an engineer. What it does is transfers and stores thought. You don’t have to learn anything by memorizing, understanding, or interpreting. I can store a language in here in less than two minutes, [and] you can learn it in two minutes. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, but does it work? What did the people at the university say?”

“Burn it. Burn the blueprints.”

“Geez, Kindche. Anybody else see these?”

“No. Why would I show anybody else?”

Then we went and had some carrot-cake quickbread his mom had just made. She was a great baker. She made all sorts of vegetarian stuff for him all the time, and only him. Nobody else ate it, except when I visited. It wasn’t the thing then.

All right! Carrot cakes and mind machines!

I sense some skepticism. That’s ok. I’m not here to convince anybody of anything. I’m just telling you what happened. There are people like that in this world. When I was eight and nine, my best friend was a spectral genius. By comparison he made even adults seem shallow, uninformed, and just generally lacking. He was extremely introverted. Nobody got into his world, but he let me in. You could run into these people and never know it. They are very protective and selective of [to whom they show] their gifts. We could do a whole interview [just] on Fred Summers [the childhood friend XX is referring to].

I feel like maybe I should apologize or cut my carrot cake comment from the transcript.

No. That’s ok, Mike. I can tell you’re not a seasoned interviewer. But you’re doing ok. Lets keep going.

< PART3 >

 “A man can live without eating if God so wills. For how did Elijah complete a journey of forty days with the strength received from a single meal? And how did Moses remain on the mountain in communion with God for eighty days without tasting human food? … How can the human mind explain this miracle? How did his bodily nature survive without anything to replenish its daily loss of strength? This enigma is solved by the divine Logos, when He says: ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word the proceeds out of the mouth of God’.
“Why then do we drag the monastic way of life down from heaven to earth, burying ourselves in material anxieties? Why do we who once were ‘brought up in scarlet’ now ’embrace dunghills’, as Jeremiah says in his lamentations?” ~The Philokalia

“So how does a man live for weeks, or even months, with little or no material food? Materialists will say these stories are simply false. Apparently, they think Moses took a backpack full of MREs with him to the mountaintop. And Jesus couldn’t have survived for forty days without food, he must have been eating some of wild fruits and nuts out there in the desert.

“Actually, the stories of prophets, saints, and other surviving for long periods without food are very much true. And it isn’t true for just a dozen or so, it is true for hundreds, maybe thousands. The Essene sect was well known for the fact that they seldom ate material food, as were the Therapeutae of Egypt.”

< Read the entire article online at Solar Wind. >

< Visit and bookmark Harold Boulette’s blog Solar Wind at: http://blog.spiritsun.net/ >

contributed by Harold Boulette

For the “Path to Light” series, Michael McIntyre conducts an interview for the Community Communique with a speaker who wishes to remain anonymous. This interview was conducted in February of 2014. You are reading Part 1 of 3.

MM: It is my understanding that you wish this interview to be anonymous?

XX:  That’s correct.

What led you to International Community of Christ?

Well, there were strong influences from the time I was three, a Rabbi, several Catholic priests, Buddhist monk, and a Hindu mystic. All these before my eighteenth birthday.

How did they influence you?

It was not so much that they changed my person, my core, but shifted my perspective. Actually a lot of what they passed on to me did not surface until after joining the Community. I was pretty hardheaded in my early years.

What do mean by “shifted your perspective”?

Umm, . . . One day this Buddhist monk, his name was Sahn, was explaining that it was important to not kill any living thing without warrant because it was possible that this ‘living thing’ could be the reborn life of a once-human being. He then went on to explain reincarnation, the best he could; I mean, I was just seven years old. This was all very peculiar to me. Fantasy. Like the Easter bunny, Santa Claus. Then a couple weeks later I was explaining the phenomenon of ‘snow’ to him. He was in utter disbelief. We were in the tropics at this time, where he had lived his whole life, and it never snowed in this part of the world. Few people had televisions, radio was a luxury, it was isolated.

Anyway, he kept shaking his head in disbelief and several times stated how such a thing was impossible. Finally I convinced him of the reality of ‘snow,’ and it came across in his face: he believed me. At that moment it occurred to me that reincarnation could be a real thing. Just because I had never seen or recognized reincarnation, just like Sahn had never seen snow, it didn’t mean that these things weren’t real.

So, then, you understood reincarnation? You believed in it.

No, not necessarily. But it opened me up. I realized I was conditioned by my upbringing and that it was shallow: to think that only one point of view or construct could be correct and that all others had to be excluded.

You’re seven. And you were thinking in these terms?

Maybe not in those exact words, but certainly those exact ideas.

So, this is when your—let’s say—the journey of your spirit began?

No, I was interested in basketball, chess, and girls, but these episodes with Sahn, and there were many, left me to be interested in other religions and a respect for those traditions. At the time, in the early sixties, this view was absent in American culture. The rule then was if you didn’t adhere to the Christian faction, you were doomed. I remember, and it was for a couple days, my father took us on a tour of the Buddhist temples in the area. It was a cultural thing; he loved history.

So we’re in the Temple of the Golden Buddha, which I found out was actually made of brass—the Buddha statue was really brass—all the monks were seated in their orange robes; incense was burning; people were bringing flowers for offering, and my sister was seated right next to me. She was eight at the time. The monks are softly chanting these little prayers, with their hands folded, while making repeated bowing gestures towards the Buddha icon. My sister, being the good little conformist, folds her hands and begins making the same bowing gestures just like monks. My mother was horrified, [and] promptly interrupts my sister’s display, and when leaving the temple remarks to her, “You can’t do those things, you’ll end up in hell.” My immediate response was, “That’s silly mom, she not going to hell for bowing in front of the Golden Buddha.” Nevertheless my mother was convinced, and she was an educated woman; she taught at universities. Even today some people still think like that.

Even though you were just in elementary school, your views were pretty progressive for the time. 

It wasn’t really me so much; it was Sahn. Sahn gave that to me. I still love the man. One day I meet him, and he’s carrying a small bundle of bamboo sticks in one of his hands [and says]: “Come with me. I want you to see this.” He brings me to a patioed area, like a big carport, and lays the sticks on an eating table that has newspaper, rice, and some twine. He snaps the sticks and twines them in the form of a cross.

“What are doing, Sahn?”

“You’ll see.”

He breaks and twines the remaining bamboo, puts it altogether in the form of a diamond and lays it on a piece of newspaper. “You’re making a kite! I love kites.” “That’s right.” He grabs the small bowl of rice, folds the newspaper edges and begins pasting them together with rice. “Is that rice really going to work, Sahn?”

“Always has. But it has to dry for a while”

Couple hours later we’re airborne. Follow me here, I’m going to tie it together with the next story.

A few months later my father takes us oceanside for a week. He has an extra boardinghouse, so he invites Sahn and a few other locals. Early one morning, Sahn and I awake before everyone else. He says, “Let’s go down to the beach.” We’re walking along, and he stops. ”See that temple house on the jungle cliff over there?”  “Yes. It’s big.” “That’s the King’s house. He stays there when he comes to the ocean.”  “Can we go?” Sahn laughed. “Well no, I don’t think they will let us in. He’s not there, anyway.” The tide had just receded; the sand was wet, and we stopped again “XX, see those little marks in the sand?” “Yes.” “Ok, follow them. See where they go. . .Right there!” Sahn kneels down where the markings end and gently starts digging. I have absolutely no idea what he is thinking. Thirty seconds later he lifts this crab up by one of its legs, holds it in front of my face and says “See? Now, let’s see if you can do the next one.” It reminded me of the kite. This man, this monk, had no tools, no weapons, no technology, just his head and two hands, and he did these things. At that point I realized knowledge was the most prized tool and that some things were secret from public knowledge: for that you needed the good fortune of a Teacher. A half-hour later we show up at the boarding house, where the locals were, and open this cloth bag filled with crabs. They all start whistling and clapping, cooked up the crabs along with rice, and invited me to sit down for breakfast. This was rare; they never did this with white people, nor did they speak English other than with Sahn.

Thinking back on it, I believe, in part, Sahn orchestrated the whole crab episode with premeditation in order to show these locals that white people aren’t just these strangers in our land, they are much like us. He was a very intelligent man.

< PART 2 >

 “There is not in the world a kind of life more sweet and delightful than that of a continual conversation with God. Only those can comprehend it who practice and experience it. Yet I do not advise you to do it from that motive. It is not pleasure which we ought to seek in this exercise. Let us do it from a principle of love, and because it is God’s will for us. … Ah! Knew we but the want we have of the grace and assistance of God, we would never lose sight of Him, no, not for a moment.
“Believe me. Immediately make a holy and firm resolution never more to forget Him. Resolve to spend the rest of your days in His sacred presence, …” ~Brother Lawrence

“It is so sad that there are many people in this world who are constantly trying to “better themselves” by going after more material possessions, or just more money. Still others who seek power over men and natural resources. And when they get those things, they are never satisfied, so keep trying to get more, and more, and more, meanwhile depriving others by taking far more than their fair share, or by enslaving others to their illusions of power. The don’t realize that deep down what they really crave is to be reconnected with God and the spiritual worlds that is the source. It is kind of like the person who keeps overeating and still always being hungry because he is eating mostly junk that is not supplying his body’s nutritional needs.

“Even though many people don’t think matters of spirit are important, they may even believe such things don’t exist, but that doesn’t stop something deep down inside us from craving for reconnecting to that source.”

< Read the entire article online at Solar Wind. >

< Visit and bookmark Harold Boulette’s blog Solar Wind at: http://blog.spiritsun.net/ >

contributed by Harold Boulette

 “In the interaction between the different levels of consciousness and the corresponding planes of manifestation lies the essence of occultism. The psychic is one who functions negatively in this interaction; he reacts to the conditions he contacts, and thereby perceives them, but he exerts little or no influence on them. The adept, on the other hand, while perceiving, does not react, and therefore functions positively in his relations to the subtle worlds, sending out his influence upon them instead of receiving their influence into himself. … The true adept is not dependent upon the intervention of spirits, whether divine or diabolical, but himself works directly on the plane of his choice; …
“But in addition to his studies of subjects which are essentially occult, there are other sciences with which the student aught to be acquainted if he is to do justice to his task, …” ~Dion Fortune

“While I agree in general with what Ms Fortune is saying, there are some specifics in this quote that I disagree with.

“While she considers psychics and their passive approach to other realms negative, I think it is more often neutral. They are not trying to make a positive influence on them, but neither are they making things any worse. The main problem with psychics is that they look beyond only to the fourth dimension where they gather information that may or may not be true because the demons, or diabolical influences, as Ms Fortune calls them, operate on this level. This is kind of like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz stopping and staying with the scarecrow instead of continuing on to the Emerald City. This is not necessarily wrong, as long as the psychic is aware that the fourth dimension is not a true spiritual plane, but they usually are not.”

< Read the entire article online at Solar Wind. >

< Visit and bookmark Harold Boulette’s blog Solar Wind at: http://blog.spiritsun.net/ >

contributed by Harold Boulette

 “In Taoism, even beyond Chinese folk religion, various rituals, exercises, and substances are said to positively affect one’s physical and mental health. They are also intended to align oneself spiritually with cosmic forces, or enable ecstatic spiritual journeys. These concepts seem basic to Taoism in its elite forms. Internal alchemy and various spiritual practices are used by some Taoists to extend life, even to the point of immortality. Immortals, their actions and their relationships with the gods and natural forces form a significant portion of Taoist mythology.” ~from the book Taoism for Know-It-Alls

“I have written many times about the need to engage in spiritual practices, spiritual techniques, spiritual rituals in order to awaken the soul and move along the path of enlightenment. This quote shows that this matches very closely the beliefs of Taoism. It mentions that there are physical and mental benefits to doing these spiritual exercises—and that is true—but, more importantly, there are spiritual benefits.”

< Read the entire article online at Solar Wind. >

< Visit and bookmark Harold Boulette’s blog Solar Wind at: http://blog.spiritsun.net/ >

contributed by Harold Boulette

PHOTO: Ron Theriault

 When I was quite young there was a a TV series called Rawhide that my dad would watch. The song in the opening credits contained the following lines regarding a cattle roundup: “Don’t try to understand ’em, just rope, throw, and brand ’em.” At the time I remember thinking to myself: Why would anybody not want to understand anything? I suppose that this realization set me on a nearly lifelong predisposition against Westerns and toward science, which I saw as being motivated by a quest to know about things. These predispositions have since softened, but the underlying desire to understand has remained.

I was raised Catholic and attended a Catholic school through 8th grade. At the time of First Communion we were taught the symbolism of transubstantiation during mass, whereby the bread and wine were transformed into the body and blood of Christ. It was not described as a symbolic act, however, but an actual transformation. I was not the only one then who privately questioned the reality  of this, or even the necessity of eating flesh and blood, but being young and caught up in so many other concerns and events, this issue was simply set aside. I did not seriously take it up again until I left home for college, and church was no longer an institution I was taken to but a place I would have to go to on my own.

Transubstantiation was not the only issue I had with Catholic theology. There was also the explanation of the crucifixion of Jesus. A divine man had to be sacrificed to God to atone for human sins, but by whose rules was this necessary?  Would it not have to be a superior entity to God Himself? Despite the comfortable nature of the Catholic culture and the sometimes beautiful liturgy, I became a true agnostic during my college years. The illogicality at the core of orthodox Christianity was simply too much for me to get comfortable with.

Soon after graduating from college I became interested in the Rosicrucians and started with the series of lesson monographs that they offer. They have a conception of God that is more universal and culturally neutral than orthodox Christianity’s, or any other orthodox, established church for that matter. I appreciated that a lot; however, their lesson monographs almost always raised more questions than they answered. One typical example is where a lesson noted that throughout the world there are spots  in the wilderness where nothing grows. I have never seen such a place, and all the monograph provided by way of explanation was the question, “Why do you think that is?” 

 Later I investigated Scientology. They had a building in Boston, where I was living at the time, and I went in about once a week for lessons. There were directed readings of the founder L.Ron Hubbard’s writings and role-playing games of various types. On the whole this was pretty thin spiritual gruel compared to my previous experiences. Every session ended with a “clearing,” which consisted of holding a tin can in each hand and having a brief questioning by a higher up. The cans were connected with a wire to a device of some sort. Each clearing seemed to end after I said something with a degree of conviction. I didn’t stay with this very long: It was expensive and didn’t seem to be getting me to where I wanted to go.

 A while after I dropped Scientology, I saw a small ad for the International Community of Christ in a magazine called Saturday Review, which I subscribed to at the time. What caught my eye and caused me to respond was the Solar Cross at the top of the ad. I was pleased and intrigued to find out, when the introductory materials arrived, that central to the teachings were techniques to make use of sunlight on a spiritual level. This was and is a path with which I have no reservations. I was also heartened by the prospect of universal instruction, without filtering through anyone else’s perspective.

By Ron Theriault
January 2014
(Community member since October 1975)

Below is a message of love for Valentine’s Day 2014 composed in French by Francine Petrovich, along with a literal English translation.

Un témoignage d’ AMOUR

tous ceux que j’aime…

L’AMOUR, fables immortelles de notre enfance exclamant l’hymne la vie, un blanc royaume offrant l’espoir d’un Grand Po te.

L’AMOUR, douces caresses de notre jeunesse et le bonheur en larmes nous apportent l’aisance d’aimer.

L’AMOUR, un myst re de tous les jours dirigeant une recherche perpétuelle la conqu te d’un paradis éternel.

L’AMOUR qui nous donne la joie de vivre, un sourire au coeur, une fraîcheur retrouvée transformant en silence un univers comblé de sagesse.

L’AMOUR qui refl te l’image d’une jeunesse vibrante aux r ves remplis de lumi re enchantée chante l’espoir d’une fureur de vivre.

L’AMOUR, une mélodie du coeur et un éloge de tous les jours honorant en silence les splendeurs de ce monde avec fierté.

L’AMOUR, expression d’une réalité en qu te de douceur qui vibre en harmonie avec la ferveur intérieure.

L’AMOUR qui coule dans nos veines comme la rivi re qui court vers un océan rempli de promesses.

L’AMOUR, po me des amants, mémoire des sensations fébriles du premier jour témoignant de l’union d’un seul coeur.

L’AMOUR, souffle de tous les instants racontant une belle histoire qui garde l’étincelle d’un coeur scintillant de diamants.

L’AMOUR que l’on cultive dans nos coeurs s’épanouit en douceur comme une rose d’alliance au printemps, un pétale de bonheur.

L’AMOUR qui projette des rayons de chaleur l’image du soleil levant réchauffant le coeur des gens aimés et proclamant l’héritage d’un Grand Jour.

Voil des r veries intérieures inspirées par tous ceux que j’aime et qui ont participé la réalisation et l’expression de mon tre le plus tendre.

Avec tout mon AMOUR,

Francine

* * * * * * *

A testimony of LOVE

to all those I love . . .

LOVE, immortal fables of our childhood exclaiming a hymn to life, a white realm offering the hope of a Great Poet.

LOVE, soft caresses of our youth and happiness in tears brings ease to our love.

LOVE, a mystery of all days directing a perpetual search on the quest for an eternal paradise.

LOVE, which gives us the joy of living, a smile to the heart, a freshness recovered, transforming in silence a universe filled with wisdom.

LOVE, which reflects the image of a youth vibrant with dreams replete with enchanted light sings the hope of a fury of living.

LOVE, a melody of the heart and a praise of all days, honoring in silence the splendors of this world with pride.

LOVE, expression of a reality in quest of softness that vibrates in harmony with the interior fervor.

LOVE, which flows in our veins like the river that runs toward an ocean filled with promises.

LOVE, poem of lovers, memory of the feverish sensations of the first day testifying to the union of one heart.

LOVE, breath of all instants telling a beautiful story that keeps the sparkling of a heart scintillating with diamonds.

LOVE, which we cultivate in our hearts, blooms in softness like a rose of alliance in spring, a petal of happiness.

LOVE, which projects the rays of warmth to the image of the rising sun, warming the heart of people loved and proclaiming the heritage of the Great Day.

Here are the interior reveries inspired by all I love and who have participated in the realization and the expression of my being, most tender.

With all my LOVE,

Francine

 “The many people who complain that they have no such personal religious experience, that the spiritual world is shut to them, are usually found to have expected this experience to be given to them without any deliberate and sustained effort on their own part. They have lived from childhood to maturity at the little window of consciousness and have never given themselves the opportunity od setting up correspondences with any other world than that of sense. Yet all normal men and women possess, at least in a rudimentary form, some intuition of the transcendental; shown in their power of experiencing beauty or love.” ~Evelyn Underhill

“If a person who has never bothered to do any serious running claimed that it was impossible to run a mile in less than six minutes, you would probably shake your head in disbelief. We all know that a well-trained runner can complete a mile in far less than six minutes, in fact in less than four. And the person who makes this statement might be able to do it himself with proper training and enough practice.”

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contributed by Harold Boulette