Love Story: In The Web of Life (13 page)

"No," I said, "We will take off and get towed
toward the mountains. If we are lucky, there will be a wave we can
fly back and forth on. We might fly for about an hour and land back
where we started."

"What is a wave doing in the
desert?"

"The wind blows north from LA into the desert
in advance of an approaching storm. If it is at the right speed and
direction as is passes over the mountains, the wind does a thing
like water flowing over a rock in a creek. It flows down and then
jumps up into a wave. This desert wave can go up tens of thousands
of feet. You are in for a great experience."

Tina smiled her impish smile and said, "This
sounds like fun, or maybe a little scary?"

"I think fun. In terms of soaring, this is like
a day off."

"Can you tell me more about your new case?
Elise was quite impressed with your interest in channeling. Oh,
what did you think of Herondus?"

I paused for a minute. "I must say I was
impressed. One of my assets as an attorney is my B.S. meter. I can
sense a scam or a lie or a fraud very easily. I had the feeling
that it was all very real, although I am not yet too comfortable
with the idea of intelligences speaking from other
dimensions."

She interrupted, "Maybe your B.S. meter is
really a psychic perception. You might be a psychic practitioner
and not realize it. Have you heard from Uriel lately?"

"No, but I have been learning about the things
he suggested, out of necessity for my lawsuit. Events seem to be
conspiring to lead me on that path."

"That seems to be the way things work for me
when I am headed in the right direction," she observed. "And
Herondus?"

"First, I was very surprised by the meeting
itself. I expected the audience would be a few dozen New Age
weirdoes or old hippies. They looked more like West LA or Hollywood
types, mostly affluent, pretty together as a lot. I was expecting a
more Haight-Asbury, San Francisco crowd than a Rodeo Drive or
Melrose crowd.

"Herondus upset me a little bit by running down
logical thinking. That is how I make a living! But, everything he
was saying about conscious thinking being only a small fraction of
our brain usage is supported by a whole lot of scientific research.
I must admit that I use logical thinking to present a case for
certainty, as a shield against people knowing what I really am
feeling, That's what lawyers do. His whole idea of vulnerability is
a bit foreign to me. I equate vulnerability to weakness, something
one must avoid."

Tina wrinkled her nose and said, "Oh, I guess
that is a guy thing, being the warrior, defending the tribe,
protecting the traditional ways. That kind of vulnerability is
concerned about making sure you don't have to experience something,
such as being killed or having children or a wife carried off into
slavery. That kind of vulnerability starts with, 'I don't trust
you, so I have to defend myself against you.'"

"There is another kind of vulnerability that
begins with trust. I encourage my high school students to practice
being vulnerable in my creative writing class. When they have a
writing assignment, I encourage them to write from their hearts,
pick out topics that have personal meaning, explore ideas without
worrying about what the other kids will think. In class, after the
kids hand in their assignments, I pick a couple to read to the
class, without identifying the author. The students trust me to
protect their anonymity, although some times the topic is such that
the other students can guess the author. Then, the students
critique the writing. The authors can trust me to control the
discussion to prevent malicious comments and bullying and make the
criticism constructive. We sometimes get to address some very
personal feelings. That is a good educational
experience.

"My friends often talk about our emotional
vulnerabilities in relationships. One of my friends allowed herself
to trust a guy, she fell deeply in love with him and then had her
heart broken when he dumped her. She is unconsciously having
difficulty trusting and having that vulnerability with any man
again. We always ask ourselves, 'Do I really want to risk really
getting deeply involved with this guy, and possibly get dumped in
the end? Is he honest with me, or will he mislead me into thinking
we are developing a relationship, when from his viewpoint, I am
temporary entertainment while he hunts for a mate that will fit
into his professional goals or will please his parents with their
ethnic or religious values?' We usually do this questioning on an
intuitive basis: we go with our gut or heart and feelings. There is
little logic in it. Maybe that is why we can be so
vulnerable."

I sensed she was on the verge of a rant, so I
interrupted. "Thanks, I think I understand a little more. But isn't
this a genetic thing, instinctual, that is mostly in women? I can't
recall ever having a conversation with one of my friends about fear
of getting too involved because we might get dumped. Sometimes one
friend who is getting involved with a lady will be warned, 'Be
careful, you might get caught.'
Caught
is the opposite of
dumped
." I was starting to feel a little uneasy
about where this conversation led.

She paused for a long time before replying,
perhaps intuiting my feelings.

"I think it is a fundamental psychological need
of everyone to be known, recognized, and understood. People use
various shields to prevent this, for instance, my friend, the one
who got dumped, has all kinds of ways to ward off attempts to know
who she is. Being known starts with trust, which she has little of,
now.

"Oh, I have a good example of male
vulnerability. In Herondus' weekends, he makes opportunities for
the people in those first few rows to get help with personal
problems. At the weekend I went to, there was a young man who said
he was in love with a woman but somehow didn't feel quite right
about marrying her. He wanted to know what he should do. Herondus
started questioning him, like an attorney, in cross-examination.
Every answer led to another insightful question. It became apparent
to the audience that the man had irrelevant opinions and
assumptions that were stopping him. Herondus made jokes, not
malicious ones, of many of his answers to illustrate the man's
error in thinking. Eventually, they got to the crux of the matter:
the man had a big case of puppy love for his teenage baby sitter
when he was eight. One day, after months of great rapport, which
the man interpreted as love, the babysitter arrived very upset.
When the boy tried to get his usual attention, the baby sitter
locked him in the closet for two hours while she cried. The boy
thought it was his fault she was unhappy, and felt shame for it,
and decided to never to trust any one with his love
again.

"After the man had this revelation he was happy
again and thanked Herondus. Then, Herondus gave a little lecture to
the whole audience about the issues in the man's problem and how
they might pertain to our lives.

"The man had to be willing to be vulnerable to
ask a question and then go through the public embarrassment in the
dialog that followed. He had to trust Herondus to guide him to the
answer of his most pressing life question. He had to be willing to
know himself, no matter what might be found, and to be known by the
audience."

"I can see how that works," I said. "But, being
vulnerable isn't really about being willing to be embarrassed in a
cross-examination, is it?"

"No, it’s more a matter of going to the depths.
My friend who got dumped has to keep everything superficial. She
will only dip her big toe into a relationship. Being vulnerable is
like being willing to wade into a relationship up to your waist
with the possibility of going all-in, over your head."

She laughed and added, “Maybe you could give me
a soaring metaphor. We are going to the desert, not the
beach."

"OK," I replied, pausing for a moment. "Some
power plane pilots take glider lessons only long enough to
get
Gliders
added to their
pilot's license. Then, they never go gliding or soaring
again.

"Some people take lessons, get their pilot's
license, and then only come out for a few days of flying around the
airport, never getting out of landing range.

"Others, like me, I guess, make soaring a life
passion. We are willing to take our chances flying great distances
over barren lands, sometimes ending up far from the airfield, or on
a dry lake bed or somewhere."

She laughed and added, "Even risking
conversations with Mason jars. You have the idea."

My turning off the freeway to get gas
interrupted us.

After our stop, when she got back in the car
carrying two cups of coffee, she had her impish grin that suggested
she was up to something.

"It's cold and the clouds look like rain. Are
we really going soaring or is this some kind of trick?"

I laughed and said, "No, this is good wave
weather."

"I'd better see this wave or else I'll never
believe anything you say again. This had better not be some version
of 'come up to my place and I'll show you my etchings.' Here, I
have a treat for you."

She reached into her jacket pocket and produced
two Snickers bars. She unwrapped the end of one and handed it to
me. "Try this," She said.

"Oh, no thanks, I'm not much on
sweets."

"How long has it been since you have had a
Snickers bar?"

"I can't remember the last time I had
one."

"Be vulnerable and try it. Trust me, they are
good. There is little risk in eating a Snickers bar. Go for it!
Trust me!"

I took a bite and said, "Actually, this is
pretty good."

She unwrapped her bar. took a bite, and an
expression of great pleasure came over her face. "Some times, I
would do anything for a Snickers bar."

"I'll bear that in mind."

She laughed and gave me an expression of mock
scorn, unbuckled her seat belt and slid over next to me and said,
"Are we almost there, yet?"

After about a minute of silence while she
subtly snuggled up to me, she said. "I know a fun game to pass the
time. You concentrate on a picture of something and I'll try to
tell you what it is. See if I can make a mental shortcut between
us"

She paused and seemed to be sensing that I was
a little uncomfortable with psychic stuff.

"Be vulnerable. Give it a try. Start
now."

I quietly stared down the road.

After about twenty seconds she said, "It looks
like something red, a red spot, and it's bouncing up and down, kind
of like a yo-yo. What were you picturing?"

She saw the shocked expression on my face and
said, "Come on, don't cheat, tell me."

"I was watching the red taillight on the car in
front of us. It is moving up and down because the road is not
perfectly level. That's amazing! Can you read my mind?"

"No, that is a kind of game my brother and I
invented, for when we were kids, on trips with my parents. All I
can get is vague images. I think I have an intuition about how you
are feeling about things when we talk. For instance, right now you
are a little upset, not with me, but with the idea that I can
perceive what you are seeing."

"You’re right about that. I understand about
8-D shortcuts and all that on an intellectual level, but it is
against the scientific belief system ingrained in me by all my
previous education and professional experience. I am going to have
to get used to it. How do you change an ingrained belief
system?"

"Exposure, and dialogue are what I use. These
high school students I teach have some weird belief systems. The
first step seems to be getting them off their certainty in what
they believe. That is a vulnerability thing."

We were silent for a while as Tina looked at
the scenery. The trip from LA to the desert starts with industrial
buildings lining the freeway. That scene gives way to older housing
tracts with an abundance of trees. Then, as one moves to the
desert, the newer housing tracts have fewer trees. After that, the
countryside turns to dry chaparral covered hills and occasional
mobile homes. It always amazes me that people in these wide-open
spaces seem to accumulate clutter around their houses: derelict
cars, rusty horse trailers, oceangoing boats on cradles,
miscellaneous building materials, and storage sheds. In places,
there are the isolated tracts of homes, sitting like islands in the
desert, surrounded by high beige cinder block walls, where the open
space has been covered with cookie-cutter homes crowded together a
few feet apart. People buy them because the homes are cheaper, and
then spend enormous amounts of money and time commuting an hour or
more to work.

"I really don't know much about you," said
Tina, "Where were you born, raised, and what was it like where you
grew up, what were your friends like?"

We told each other stories until we reached the
airport. I noticed that I felt closer to her. She was right, it
took a little trust in her for me to openly tell her about myself.
I did start to understand about trust and vulnerability.