Until next time, Christos

The recent preview of my life on a small planet in a solar system on the edge of an ordinary galaxy among billions of other galaxies in one among many millions of galaxy superclusters had gone well enough. I had requested that I spend some time with Sophia, my twin flame, before I took the proverbial plunge.

With Sophia, the scene on the balcony was just one of several rehearsals of my life on a rather dense planet called Earth. The Elders had warned me that Earth was a particularly difficult place to go to fulfill a serious purpose. They told me that many who go there are easily lured into distractions and lose their way.

Now, on the edge of a summit, I know the time is near for me to take the plunge, but I feel uneasy about leaving before I can be sure about my fitness to meet my purpose in a place where the reality of need and pleasure dominate the overall social climate. My question is simply this: am I ready?

"The time is near, Christos."

I nod thoughtfully. "And so it is." Humanity on Earth had reached a point in its cultural evolution where any one of its members could access any and all knowledge relevant to practically any purpose, but its members also had access to the most exquisite entertainment, making many of them immune to effort.

"On one level, you will forget everything you know here."

"Yes, I know." And that was part of the problem. Without the benefit of my knowledge and wisdom here, I was vulnerable to losing sight of my ultimate purpose on Earth. My only recourse, if I could remember it, was to undergo a spiritual hypnotic regression there to recover my memories here.

The trees below the summit shimmer like a mirage under a noon-day sun, a signal for me to prepare myself for the plunge.

"Any last words, Christos?"

"Will I see you on Earth, Sophia?"

"I would like that very much." She speaks softly, almost wistfully, into my mind.

I sigh. We both knew that our journeys on Earth carried the possibility of not meeting. I knew this uncertainty to be integral to my purpose.

I turn to Sophia, place my hand on the rim of her jaw, and caress it with exquisite care. "Good-bye, my love."

We embrace.

She steps back, tears welling, speaking these words aloud: "Until next time, Christos."

"Until next time, Sophia." My voice breaks. I kiss her long and tender on the lips.

I walk away from the edge. I turn suddenly and run back to it with all my might, lunging and plunging into vast empty space.

On the edge of a summit

On the summit, the breeze is brisk, cool and refreshing, wafting the scent of pine trees nearby. The sun sets yonder, setting the sky on fire on a distant horizon. Lakes and trees dot the landscape in the valleys below. I sit on a rock and beckon Sophia. She comes over and stands before me, waiting for my question.

But I'm not ready to ask it just yet.

"I carry a burden, Sophia, a burden so heavy it presses me down in the twilight of my youth. I cannot be satisfied with the invention of a purpose that would merely secure the means of my survival, that would merely satisfy all of my needs, both physical and psychological."

"I understand, Christos." Sophia conveys her words soundlessly, from the depths of soul: warmly, intimately, sympathetically.

"I cannot be satisfied with a calling that would merely have me serve the good of others. Good by what standard? Good for whom in particular? I'm rather inclined to think that those who claim to serve the good of others have their own conception of that good." I convey all of this soundlessly to her, but then I feel compelled to speak aloud.

"From a witness perspective, I can allow myself to step back and see my central focus in life, my core concern in life, my ultimate purpose in life, through the ways and means and ends by which I choose to live, love, and learn. My purpose in life is about what I decide to do for me, for my own good, with goals, values, and interests that are mine."

I stand to face Sophia. "Does my egoic stance necessarily preclude what others might think or feel, say or do?"

Sophia smiles, sending me her thoughts: "it might, Christos, but then again, it might not."

"If the feedback I get from others resounds with my ultimate purpose, then I would do well to listen and learn."

"Yes."

"If I leave the most important concern of my life - the ultimate purpose of my life - to what others would ask of me, then I would expect to lose my bearings before long."

"Christos, I trust that your strong egoic thrust to meet your purpose in life is matched only by your deep concern for what others might contribute to that purpose. You stay the course with your daily central focus amidst the comments, questions, suggestions, and requests of others in relation to this purpose."

"Sophia, I couldn't have put it better myself."

"Which, I suspect, brings us back to your question."

I turn away and walk to the edge of the summit.

Our secret love of power

"I would be alone to consider your question."

Sophia touches my temple with sacred intent and blesses my third eye with a tender kiss, cutting our telepathic link and leaving me alone with my thoughts. She walks away with a knowing smile.

Her question resounds: "Do we stop the world with our love of presence or do we engage it fully with our secret love of power?" I knew it contained essential clues to my purpose.

Our love of presence and our secret love of power. I knew enough that she did not mean our love of presence or our secret love of power. She spoke from, and for, the perspective of humanity at a juncture in its evolution when it was evolving beyond its biological limits.

Sophia is well aware of our schizophrenic relationship with power: the power to manipulate, deceive, and exploit with one hand and the power to persuade, enlighten, and create with the other. Abusive power and authentic power. As we evolve away from abusive power toward authentic power, a very fine line was being drawn between them. I could not help but feel that our love of power had been kept a secret for a reason.

But what might this reason have to do with my purpose?

I release my question to the Universe, allowing myself the pleasure of a cool and caressing breeze in the bosom of a separate peace.

Do we stop the world?

Out of a peace so profound rises an inkling of purpose from the depths of this presence to the moment in which we find ourselves. “This presence is pregnant with life,” I tell Sophia soundlessly, in the silence of our peace.

She half turns her head. “This presence is pregnant with life, Christos, but also with law, and with mind, and with spirit.”

“With law, with life, with mind, and with spirit,” I say, adding continuity. “This presence is forever giving birth to an evolutionary disclosure of matter, life, mind, and spirit – an ever-widening circle that promises to reveal more of itself with the passage of time from within the depths of space.”

Sophia turns around inside my embrace to face me. “Until the circle is whole.”

“And complete,” I add, after a pause.

“In the meantime, Christos, with bodies as vessels, we might dwell in the peace of this presence from time to time, to contemplate the objects of this world with sacred intent through sacred encounter.”

“And with bodies as vehicles, Sophia, we can soar on the updrafts of this presence, and celebrate the objects of this world with divine intent through divine experience.”

“And remember, too, where a sacred encounter is a religious encounter, a divine experience is a …” Sophia pauses to reflect. Or was she playing with me?

I smile knowingly. “A spiritual experience.”

“And so, a person fit to live in this world is a person who …”

I laugh away my delight. “Is a person who … celebrates the divine dimensions of mind and spirit without neglecting to cultivate the sacred dimensions of law and life.”

Sophia embraces me, and as I experience a rush of pleasure inside her embrace, I am pleased to know that we have come to harmony through yet another act of intercourse.

I rest content, happy to feel the love of Sophia, until our everlasting embrace gives way to a rather potent query from Sophia: “Do we stop the world with our love of presence or do we engage it fully with our secret love of power?”

At the beginning

“Tell me your purpose.” She says that in a quiet way, in a gentle way, in a way that invites me to open my heart to her.

“Sophia, my heart might tell you one of my true aims, my soul might tell you another of my true aims, and my spirit might tell you yet another. Who am I to say where my true purpose lies?” She turns around to look at me, frowning, as if to tell me that I’ve let myself off the hook too easily with my glib answer.

“What do you want, Christos? Knowing who and what you are, knowing what you have, knowing what you do, and knowing what you’ve become, what is it that you want more than anything else in the world? What is it that motivates your days and nights, what is it that compels you to prevail in spite of hardship, what is it that takes you into the depths of your soul and to the heights of your spirit?”

I sigh and walk away from her. Her questioning is relentless, but not unwelcome. We both know how important it is to articulate a central purpose in life that would organize and integrate everything that I am, all that I do, everything that I have, and all that I seek to become. I walk through a door onto a balcony overlooking a cityscape at night. The sky is clear and a cool breeze teases my face. I cannot escape from her here; our most intimate of links keeps us in constant contact. I tell her, in the privacy of my own mind, in no uncertain terms, that I am ignorant: “Sophia, I simply do not know.”

“You do know; you simply have yet to put it into words.” I close my eyes, feeling a rush of desire in response to the intimate, erotic tone of her words – words that flow like warm honey into my awareness, as they always do when we separate from each other spatially. My sensitivity to the cool breeze heightens. Goosebumps run up and down my back like a caress.

“Where do I begin?” I reply weakly.

Soft laughter bubbles up inside me. “You begin at the beginning, my precious one.”

What is your purpose?

She pulls away slowly, looks at me with a query in her eyes, and asks: “What is your purpose?”

Again, I smile. “My purpose is to love you.”

She frowns. “To what end?”

My smile disappears. “I have more purchasing power than I know what to do with; I have more freedom than anyone has a right to have; and I have the peace of mind to occupy a place in a position where I can allow myself to be, have, do, and become whatever I will or desire.”

She turns away, walks back to the window. It’s her way of telling me that she’s not satisfied with my answer. We’ve had this discussion before, her and I, and never once have I given her a straight answer. I know what she wants, but I just can’t bring myself to give it to her. I need something for myself.

I walk to her, place my hands lightly on her bare shoulders. She tenses and then relaxes. I could wrap my arms around her, embrace her, and cherish her with my embrace, but I decide to simply stand behind her, gaze through the window with her, and wait patiently for our conversation to continue.