Geezer Love 2
Chapter 2, Angels and Souls
Cont’d (2 months later):
Kenny
I have returned to Canada, the Land of Ice and Snow. Every time I think of Suzie Wong, QC, the windows steam up. We have plans to meet for two lovers’ vacations this year. Once in May and once in July. But my mind is not at peace.
My poor little muddle mind is worried. What if she finds out? Will it end our budding relationship? Will my dance with Sweet Suzie Wong end, just as it gets started? But that’s not the part that really worries me.
I am used to losing potential lovers early in the game because of my quirky way. No problem! In fact, I actually lost a fiancé – late in the game – over this same issue. Well, it wasn’t exactly this issue, but it was related to this issue. Actually, it wasn’t related to this issue at first, but my former fiancé and I attached it to this issue after Humpty Dumpty had fallen off his great wall. When we couldn’t put our engagement together again, we used this issue as an excuse. Rather than proclaim that I had found out what a bitch she really was, I let her blame me for the break-up: my quirky way was the problem.
Before I explain my quirk, let me reiterate my policy on quirkiness. Ever since I was a kid, I understood the meaning of the phrase “No fairsies!” “No fairsies” means that what one is doing is not fair, it’s unjust, it just ain’t right. And I am definitely fair.
Here is the problem: 97.7% of all eligible women are searching for their soul mate. This means I have to tell them my quirk; otherwise it’s no fairsies. My quirk is: I am not soul mate material.
I acknowledge that I have been a soul mate in the past. In fact, I was a soul mate in this very life-time. I was someone’s soul mate for many years. We married young, we had babies, we adopted more babies. We did the three “L’s” together. (Live, love, laugh). I know soul-mate-hood. Now that I have left that marriage, it’s time for Kenny to be a Free Dancer. Soul mates are looking for one partner ‘til death do them part. Free Dancers want to dance with everyone.
I explained this to a potential lover once – she thought I was an arrogant jerk, and, like all men, afraid of commitment. And she told me so in a clear, concise and merciless sentence. “You are an arrogant jerk who thinks he’s God’s gift to women!” Then she left, in a flurry of fire and ice. If she had stuck around, I would have explained to her that I am a humble jerk who thinks women are God’s gift to me. I would have pointed to the possibility that it would be arrogant of me to think I was man enough to satisfy all the needs of any woman. Does a jerk want his woman to be free? Or is the real jerk the monogamous one who wants the exclusive right to her?
I acknowledge the truth about western women and their strong tendency toward exclusivity. So, to make sure I was fair, I decided to use a tactic so novel, so unusual, so disarmingly effective, that I began to wonder if I, in fact might actually be a jerk.
I decided to be 100% honest from the beginning.
Before you pass judgment, dear reader, before you shake your head in disbelief that any man could be so naïve as to think honesty would work with chick-flick intoxicated women, let me tell you the statistics. 99.7% of all men are liars. And 97.9% of women know this. So, when I explain to a woman on our first or second date that I am a Free Dancer, naturally she thinks I’m lying. Lying to myself! “The poor soul has a broken heart. He really IS looking for his soul mate and really will commit to her when he finds her. He is simply a broken hearted man searching for his soul mate… a man who thinks he is a Free Dancer.”
For the record, let me discuss the 2.1% of women who do not think that all men are liars. Initially, one might think that these women are naïve. But the opposite is true. The 2.1% of women who know that not all men are liars have learned discernment. They can actually tell when a man is lying and when he is not lying. Suzie Wong is one of these.
This is at once, both the good news and the bad news. The good news is that she will know right away that I actually am a Free Dancer with two or three girl friends. The bad news is the risk that she is looking for a soul mate and is not interested in a Free Dancer. For this reason, my poor little muddle mind is worried. When she finds out, what will she do?
Suzie
Is he lying? He said he married young and stayed married and couldn’t remember why he decided to leave her. Now he says they were soul mates. OK, maybe it’s the truth. He couldn’t remember because he’d made a mistake. But he said they had tried getting back together and it didn’t work. So their souls had become unstuck? He is a Gemini, after all. Would he have soul mates in succession or simultaneously?
The other man who lied to me (or maybe it was the truth) said he was a serial monogamist. But his current lady wanted to be the last in the series. He has a small dick, which enabled him to be the prick at the quick with a woman whose experience with a black man left her in fear of big dicks. My father, Dick Kuen Wong, was called Big Dick. His brother Dick Yin was Small Dick until he became a federal judge, when he went from Uncle Small Dick to Uncle Yin. Then there was Dick Hoy and Dick Wah. Their cousins spelled their name, Duck (pronounced ‘duck’).
As for me, I married my soul mate until death did us part. Two days after we met, I looked at his horoscope and told him if he kept burning his bridges behind him he’d never amount to anything. He was in love with a gal he’d just met on a riverboat tour; she was the guide. He fell in love with her while he and Little Prick waited for me to get done babysitting. While I was being strung along by Little Prick, my future soul mate wrote a song about a riverboat tour guide, Esta Sparks, whose family owned the electric company in Whitehorse. Sparks flew that 17th of June 1968, until one day he found out from her family she had married and moved to Vancouver. He got me on the rebound, after Little Prick kicked me out, having decided his blonde surfer chick would make a more suitable professor’s wife. He was right about that.
I didn’t become a professor’s wife for nine years, and I was more a partner than a wife. After five years he quit being a professor; he resumed his professorship five years later. By then I was not only Frau Professor but Frau Doctora Professor. Flowing with the current, we left our Black Current Press and became professors at Providence College for women. The students found Ron handsome and wondered what was so special about me.
Ron Scollon, my soul mate, was a guitar-playing bum when we met. He had dropped out of 13 colleges and universities. After Little Prick went to Prescott College in Arizona to found the Center for the Study of the Person with his new little blonde wife, Ron followed me to Honolulu where he tried to piece together a living as a guitarist but gave up and went back to school on the G.I. Bill. We were married 39 years. He left us 6 years ago. Another year and my seven year-itch will start up: Little Prick or Expanding Dick here I come.
Free dancer, let’s dance! Before I encounter another partner. I must say you’re good at yabyums at a distance. And when you’re dancing with some other, I bet she’s no Vajrayoghini.
Ken
What a ride! This wonderful woman was running my emotions up and down the roller coaster. From the exuberance of a Hong Kong love affair to the sweet sadness of separation, to the melancholy pining of being apart. Then the spring time promise of getting back together. What a ride!
All too soon I found out that this ride was just beginning. The Buddha’s had more in store for us than just a normal Hong Kong love affair. All too soon we would have to play for keeps.
Suzie’s email read: “I’m in the hospital… many tests… they found a tumour… “ Important people were told this information: family members, the most beloved. I am imagining their emotions. I am imagining her emotions. This was not her first cancer scare. Nor was it her children’s first. I tried to feel what they must be feeling. I could feel it a little bit when I read her email. I read it over and over. Over and over. I searched for that feeling: I wanted to feel what they were feeling. I knew that once I found their feelings, and once I felt those feelings myself, the Dark Angel would emerge.
Sure enough, I did find those healing feelings. And, sure enough, the Dark Angel did emerge.
I first encountered the Dark Angel a few years ago, at a funeral in January in St Catherines, Canada. It was an ice-cold graveside ceremony with a howling north wind. Our noses ran and our tears froze. Near the end, the priest loudly and most solemnly proclaimed: “And I call down an angel to watch over her grave…” I looked up and there he was, a giant translucent grey angel, standing over her grave, head bowed. I nudged my wife, now my ex-: “Do you see that?”
“See what?”
“The angel.”
“No.”
I saw it clear as day. Huge. Majestic. Both his hands were resting on the hilt of his broadsword, which pointed down. His head was bowed in reverence. Until that time I had never seen grey light – he was made of grey light. He was silent as snow.
The second time I saw The Dark Angel was six weeks later in White Rock, on the west coast of Canada. It was in a dining room full of power trainers. We were all members of a spiritual school – our teacher had taught us how to heal using the energy of the universe. Everyone in that room had been training for several years and had reached a certain level of efficiency in wielding this “power.” The room was full of “power.” The others in that dining room were listening to some humourist deliver a witty prayer of thanks for the food we were about to receive. I was a bit put off by his attempt at humour in that situation, when I felt the need to look up. There he was again: the Dark One. He seemed to be standing on a pedestal. Otherwise, he looked the same as before. But this time I received a message from him: he is me.
Now, this idea tickled my mind and fired up my imagination. Sitting in a room full of power trainers, of course, I expected the paranormal. So, when the paranormal arrived, I went with it. OK. I’m an angel. A huge angel made of grey light. OK, Angel – let’s check out those wings. I spread the wings. OMG! The wings are huge. Well then, let’s take them for a test drive! Test flight! It was like one of those flying dreams I used to have. Light as air, fast as wind, no fear, no limits, the freedom of flight. It was like John McGee’s poem: “O I have slipped the surly bonds of earth and danced the skies on laughter silvered wings…”
All day I played with the Angel. But the real fun came when the sun went down. I meditate a lot, especially at night. And when I meditate, the Angel really comes alive! He is a warrior. Evil things fear this Dark Angel. When evil things are near, he plays for keeps. He is faster than light. He can turn mass into energy and energy into mass. It’s a matter of intention. The Dark Angel’s intention is to protect others and to heal others. And to have fun. He loves to play. He thinks battle is play. He thinks healing is play. He loves to play, especially at night.
I played with him for two days before The Night of Verification. Each year, at this conference of power trainers, they conduct an exercise they call “battle.” I cannot tell you about this exercise because of my promise of secrecy. But I can tell you about the Angel’s play. It happened right after “battle.” Try to imagine the energy field in a room of 200 skilled power trainers simultaneously radiating. Try to imagine the effect that energy has on those who create it and those who stand in it. At the end, we were all standing in it, like lovers lying back on their pillows basking in the afterglow. The Angel was basking there too. A young woman walked up to me and stood about a meter away. Her face was so beautiful I couldn’t help but smile. But she wasn’t smiling. She looked awe-struck. She said her name was Carmen, and that, during the exercise her sight had come in. She was referring to that phenomenon where one’s third eye opens and one is able to “see.” With great reverence, she said: …”and I can see your wings.”
Angels are very powerful, and can easily contain human joy. The human in me filled with joy because he had been witnessed. After a second or two, the Angel looked at her, stepped back two paces and said: “Well then, watch this!” I spread his wings – I REALLY spread them. I felt like a peacock, showing off for this hen lover. She gasped. She actually gasped! She really could see! Some guy, another trainer, walked behind her, looked at me, did a double take! Then he just walked away. I wonder what he saw. When I finished showing off to Carman, I chatted quietly with her about the phenomenon she and I were witness to. Good to be witnessed. Good to chat quietly.
I had introduced Suzie to the Dark Angel one day in February. We were flirting by internet, chattering about the difference between telephone sex and email sex. It was late at night for me, late morning for her. I told her I was going to fly to her right now as an angel, and make love to her RIGHT NOW! I instructed her to lie down on her bed, take off all her clothes and slip into a meditative state. Then I emerged as the Angel, flew to her bed and enveloped her in my wings. Within the shelter of those wings we loved and loved and loved. It was mostly the passion, not so much the long drawn out time. A few minutes later, she wrote back “Phew!” To this day, I wonder what she felt.
Mostly I do remote healing as the Dark Angel. I simply fly to the afflicted person and conduct the healing as if our bodies were in the same location.
Suzie’s news email drew forth a not-so-playful Angel, a serious deadly Angel. There was a sniff of evil in the air. It was like the Kenny Rogers song about The Gambler:
“And the night got deathly quiet
And his face lost all expression
He said, “If you’re gonna play the game, boy
You gotta learn to play it right…”
When the Angel attacks a tumour, the tumour doesn’t fight back. It can’t. Tumours are very stupid. They have no minds. They have no choice but to lay there and be liquefied. The Angel attacks without mercy until every solid particle of the tumour is gone. It feels a bit like chewing a cucumber – or like putting a cucumber in a blender. It’s a little crunchy, and becomes liquid when it is destroyed. The liquid can then be absorbed into the blood stream and eliminated through the kidneys. The medical part is fairly straightforward. It’s the visualization that is sometimes tricky. Suzie had given me the location and dimensions of the tumour, so this one was not difficult to visualize.
The Angel is a mud healer. That’s a southwest healer, a cross between an earth healer (west) and a water healer (south). Earth healers use their intuition and introspection to heal. They don’t really need to “know” what they are doing; they just do it. Their intuition guides them. Water healers use their emotions to heal. Their power comes from their passion. The more passionate they feel, the more effective the healing. No passion: no healing.
This Angel has done many attacks on tumours, but never with this much passion. There was so much passion that it actually triggered a Buddhist realization in me. It was one of those healings where I conducted the attack AND witnessed it, simultaneously. I could easily sense that the tumour had been obliterated. And I noticed the huge level of passion – way more than usual. Then I realized that I was completely attached to the outcome of this healing. Overwhelmingly attached. I became concerned that the healing was in jeopardy because of my attachment to Suzie. How would I deal with this problem? How would I secure this beautiful passionate healing on this beautiful lady to whom I was hopelessly emotionally attached?
They came to my rescue in the twinkling of an eye. All I had to do was to extend the healing to all living beings afflicted by cancer tumours. The Angel had never done this before, but it seemed a perfectly logical idea. My mind visualized all sentient beings who were currently cursed by tumours, and liquefied every tumour. During these few seconds, the Angel’s mind spread the overwhelming compassion it was experiencing for Suzie, to all the others. How easy it was! Suzie was the object of my compassion. To allow that love to flow to all the other beings, all I had to do was get myself out of the picture. I simply had to disappear. So, I did. I vanished, dissolved into the night sky. And when I vanished, the mega-love I felt had no container – no boundaries. It just automatically flowed to all. All that was left when I disappeared was Suzie, all the others, the passion, and the healing. All that remained of me was my absence. I had just had a simultaneous realization of compassion and the absence of… everything.
Suzie
Greg, our IT specialist, told me about Bumrungrad International Hospital so I made an appointment for a checkup which included Ultrasound chest scan. The heart appeared enlarged and a small tumor showed on the surface of the liver. In Chinese ‘my heart and liver’ is how you refer to your darling. So how appropriate to have a large heart which the heart specialist said is just a shadow. I’ve always been big hearted. The liver specialist said the tumor looked malignant because it was surrounded by blood vessels. She had nothing to compare it to as this was my first ultrasound above the ovaries. She recommended an MRI scan.
Meanwhile I informed my kids and close friends. Jane offered to send reiki. Two days later I didn’t eat, but went for the scan. They had the results while I had lunch. It turned out to be a hemangioma which the doctor said is something like a birthmark. My son asked for clarification. Someone said it was cancerous but it’s nothing but a birthmark? Jane suggested her healing energy might have neutralized the tumor, but I never felt anything in the first place.
My friend, Yvonne Loong went to Burma some years ago and spent a week at a meditation center. She loved it. Last November a nun from that meditation centre, was here in Bangkok giving a workshop. I wanted to visit her monastery in Yangon but could not contact her, so I went to the address Yvonne had given me. There, I met a man who was planning to go to the center in Pyin Oo Lwin the next day. It turns out the center is right down the street from the Golden Gate Resort Guest House where I stayed. I did some walking meditation in an empty hall at noon. When I emerged, some women were coming out of the cafeteria and there was my nun! “Do I know you?” They had been at the forest retreat. It is not a new insight, nor particularly spiritual, that everything is interconnected, but it is indeed a small world. It was at Golden Gate that I met Harn, the founder of Bodhi Hill School through whom I met Greg, who told me about Bumrongrad Hospital.
Little did I know that going to the Heruka Mother and Father Empowerment at the Asia Festival would put me in touch with my soul mate. No need to get married—that’s too material. We’ll just eat blood together.
Ken
What interesting creatures we are: interesting and mysterious. We think we know what we are. Something to do with a body, mind and soul. What about that soul? Are we our soul? Everyone thinks they have a soul, but when you ask them what it is, things get vague and difficult to explain. It’s easier to think about a soul mate, than a soul. Soul mates have to do with a body (someone else’s body) and a mind (someone else’s mind) and how that soul mate is ‘the one’ for us. No one thinks they ARE their soul mate: everyone wants to MEET their soul mate. Or maybe they have already met their soul mate. Either way, it is easy to tell each other what our soul mate is than tell them what we are. How interesting!
So, what’s all this to do with Suzie and Kenny? Well, it’s time for their spring re-union. And, in order to achieve our spring re-union, we will have to deal with bodies and minds and not so much with souls or soul mates. We will transport our bodies to New Zealand and assume the minds and souls will go to New Zealand too. We will meet at Fullers Ferry, downtown Auckland, and the sun will shine once again. Soon after, on Waiheke Island, we will test the Tantric theory we learned in old Hong Kong. We will meditate in sexual unity: the minds in full-on meditation and the bodies in full-on sexual unity. Will the two lovers’ souls emerge: will they merge? Will we fulfill The Buddhas’ promise of bliss and emptiness? What interesting creatures we are.