The Light Across Distant Lands

I Lost My Zen. Can I Borrow Yours?

I'm on the Shinkansen (bullet train) headed for Tokyo.

On my left, I see a lady playing Pokemon with intense focus.

On my right, I see my friend, “Killer Robot”.  He's playing a game too. He's not as focused, but he seems to be enjoying himself all the same.

I look out the window.

I'm in the birthplace of the samurai. I'm in the land where Zen was perfected–the home of Dogen and Musashi.

We're traveling at 200 miles/hr. But torturous questions traveled more swiftly.

"What are you doing?"  I feel a disturbance within me.

"Why are you here?" This uncomfortable feeling continues to build—like water beginning to boil.

"Are you traveling towards...? Or are you running from...?" Anger has arrived.

Then I hear its sharp whisper.

"No matter how far you travel, you still experience Me."

"What is happening?" I ask myself.

"What is this anxiety? Why is it here and now?"  The answer didn't dawn on me until after coming home.

Anxiety is usually associated with fear of the unknown.

But my anxiety wasn't in fear of "I don't know what will happen." My anxiety was in fear of "what if I don't get what I want?"

What do I want? I mistakenly labeled it as experiences.

I do not want experiences. I want connection.

Lux Orbis

If you’ve been following my writings, you know my ever-growing distaste for society.

I've been slowly retreating from The Leviathan. So much so, I'm convinced I was a cave dweller in a past life.

But I'm reminded of a forgotten truth. A truth, not seen in Japan, the land of wisdom and Zen, but in the wild lands of Africa.

Truth: I. Love. People.

I've been fortunate enough to visit multiple countries. When I book trips, I'm filled with excitement. I daydream about all the experiences and sights I'll encounter and see.

But when looking back on my travels, it's not the places I enjoyed the most. It was always the people.

It's not what I saw, it's who I saw. It's not what I experienced, it's who I experienced.

Despite my writings advocating to purge the infection called society, I love people. Travel reminds me of how much I do.

No. I'm not going to spout motivational aspirations.

I will not say, “Speak with everyone like you're all starcrossed lovers" or "Become the social butterfly that you are."

I'm not a "feel better" card or motivational speaker–nor do I wish to be.

• I love to get lost in the words of the ancients in my favorite coffee shop by myself.
• I love to listen to the musings of Nature when I conquer mountains alone.
• I love being awake and listening to melodic silence while the world goes to rest every night.

I reside in Aloneness.

But independence does not mean isolation and detachment does not mean reclusion.

When I recall my most cherished memories...

When I reminisce on the times when I experienced "perfection"...

They were always with others.

In recent years, I lost a connection with myself.

I lost a certain light and I've been searching for It ever since.

I no longer need to search anymore.

Travel made me realize I need not travel at all.

The connection I seek is not found in foreign countries or distant lands. It's found in people.

The Light I seek within me is found in The Light seen within others.

Ad Veritas (A Conversation in The Desert)

We returned to the hotel after witnessing the majesty of the Sahara. We were greeted with celebratory drums and feasted upon food that the kings of old would envy.

As the dining halls were emptying themselves and fellow global guests retreated into their rooms, I sat alone near the hotel pool to rest my feet and labored belly.

Nearby, I see “A” (our tour director), “R” (his right-hand man), and “M” (our bus driver).

"A's" eyes met mine. He makes an invitational gesture, pointing at the empty seat at their table.

I walk over and sit with them.

On my right is "A". On my left is "R". In front of me is "M".

A: “What did you think of today, Jacob?”  With an accent that is warm and respected like the sand we played with today.

Myself: “Mumtehz!” (“Excellent” in Arabic)

A: “Ah! Mumtehz! Go! Please speak to the others in Arabic as you did with me earlier today!”

I exhausted the eight Arabic phrases I know–butchering the beautiful language of the ancients with mild embarrassment.

The table peals with inviting laughter and kind smiles.

I'm reminded of the evening conversations with my late uncles in the Philippines when I was a teenager.

The scent of San Miguel beer, cigarettes, and humidity linger still. Conversations about nothing and everything never left me. I miss them.

Myself: “You know…what I love most about your country is how much you all value Time. It seems as if Time is your most valued currency.”

"A" nods his head and translates my praise to "R" and "M". They nod too. Everyone expresses the universal sound of agreement, “Mmmmm.”

"A" continues to unravel more facts about the history of his country of flavor and color with much enthusiasm as he did early today.

"A" was extremely knowledgeable, not only of his country but in various fields. He possessed psychology and social skills due to being a tour guide. He was well-versed in world affairs from the past and today. In addition, he knew more than three languages.

I eagerly asked him, “A, how do you know so much?”

Without thought and without missing a beat, he replied.

“Curiosity. Brother, with curiosity, you can learn anything.”

I’ve stated this verbatim in the past, but he uniquely said it with confident sincerity.

“Amazing. I couldn’t agree more.” I said with goosebumps lingering from the truthful statement.

As I continue to learn and stumble new Arabic words, I wanted to learn one word the most.

“How do you say, “Truth”? ” I asked.

"Truth? Haqiqatan.” "A" says.

"Ha-qi-qa-tan." I repeat the word like a child or an imbecile.

“Yes. Haqiqatan.” "A" says with everyone repeating the word in unison.

Quietly, but firmly I say to everyone.

“I. Love. Truth.”

Silence pulls up a chair and sits among us for a moment.

Though “R” and “M” do not speak or understand any English. It seems as if they understood and respected what was announced at the table.

"A" is staring at me.

He pauses and lets out a deep breath.

He looks away and places the cigarette in his right hand in an ashtray before leaning toward my side of the table.

Behind his eyes and voice of natural compassion were serious intent of understanding from him to me.

A: “Akhi (brother), Truth is everything. Truth is everything because it is REAL.”

A light ignited within me. Not a light, but The Light.

A simple sentence stated. But what was said is not important, but where it registered.

His words not only reached my ears but reached my heart.

"Thank you. I couldn't have said it better myself." I say with a gentle smile as his smile responded in kind.

For the rest of the night, we continued to speak in words foreign to us. But we all laughed in the same language, amongst good company, in the land of the desert and the stars above.

Surrounded By Strangers

I've returned from Africa. I traveled with strangers.

I met strangers there. I met strangers here.

I met strangers in my childhood. I met strangers in my adulthood.

I met strangers nearby. I met strangers far and wide.

Strangers, I laughed and cried with.

A stranger, I grew up and fell in love with.

Strangers, I am young and old to.

Strangers, I trade blood and hold bonds too.

Strangers, I was raised and loved by.

Strangers are all I am surrounded by.

I see these strangers and I think to myself...

“Yesterday, you weren't even a dot in my universe of consciousness.

Today, I beg the question. "How did I live life prior to you?"

Fate may part us, but you’ll forever remain a part of me.

Time separated us at birth and distance created a gap invoking the impossible.

We were never supposed to meet.

Yet, we did.”

To those I've met, thank you for your time. I'm grateful we crossed paths.

To those I'll meet, thank you for your existence. I'm on my way and eager to meet you.

To both, thank you for reminding me people are not meant to be shunned but to be loved.

I have traveled far and wide in search of you.
The sparkle in your eyes ignites me—a flame eternally new.

It can be dimmed, but it cannot be mistaken—certain like the sun.
I see It within you because I feel It within me. Not two, but one.

Though our tongues may vary and our lives differ as a whole
We share the same light that warms the skin of our very same soul.