A Letter From Crete
December 28, 1977
To whom it may concern
This is a letter from me to you. Although we are not friends yet, i have a feeling that it could be possible, and i would like that very much. You may wonder why i am writing to you when we have not even met but i wonder the same thing. i have never done such a thing in my life. Maybe you could call it an experiment although that sounds scientific and not at all what i am feeling inside. i think of my own life as an experiment sometimes, but that is a different thing entirely. i guess it is as simple as saying that i need to write you a letter. Last year i didn’t. Even yesterday i did not. But today, i need to write you a letter to say, “Hello there. This is who i am. Who are you?”
i can feel it inside me (this letter) even though i don’t know exactly what i am going to say yet. It feels longer than an ordinary kind of letter, and if it gets too long, i hope you will just skip over the parts that are not interesting, and go on to something that may interest you. You will find that i do not have any great message to send you, some profound thoughts that will impress you and cause you to remark, “Now there is a deep thinking fellow.” Sometimes, i walk down the beach lost in deep, profound thoughts – big messages to the world. But later, when i think back over those thoughts, i realize that they were not very profound at all. Often, they were even silly! So i try to keep these “messages” to myself. If you are looking for a message, i am afraid you will be disappointed with me. As a matter of fact, i am hoping to ask you some questions that i have been thinking about lately. When you have finished my letter, perhaps you will want to write me back whether you have any answers or not. i would love that very much. Also, you may have a question that i can answer. That would be nice for me too. Sometimes i think we are all like questions and answers. Maybe if we could get together, we would be little pieces to a giant puzzle automatically slipping into their perfect places. What do you think the puzzle would look like after it came together? i bet it would look a lot like the Garden of Eden. This is the introduction of my letter to you. May God bless you while you are reading, after you finish, and all the days of your life thereafter.
i don’t know where to begin, so i will begin where i am. i am sitting on a porch overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. It is December 28, 1977. The sun is hot today and looks to be a little past noon. i can hear the waves rolling in and the crackling sounds they make as they slowly recede from a bank of colorful rocks a few feet below my porch. Children are running over the rocks playing together and making happy noises. i think they are also showing each other the things they got for Christmas. This is Makrigialos, a small village that sits in a bay along the southeastern coast of Crete. It is small indeed! We have no post office. The mailman comes on a yellow scooter three times a week from Stavrohori, a larger village a two-hour walk up the mountain directly behind us. He stops beside the road and blows a horn. He blows it five or six times so everybody can hear. We go up a path to where he is standing, and buy a stamp, or mail a letter, or receive a letter. i am from the United States and have many friends there, so i often get lots of letters. i think he wonders about that sometimes. If you ever mail me a letter, you can now picture in your mind the way i will be receiving it. i would rather receive a letter than a package, please. To get the package, i have to walk up the mountain to Stavrohori, and it is very steep. You may think this is a dumb way to run a post office, but i think it must cut the overhead a lot.
We have only one restaurant but they are temporarily closed due to the cold spell which started the first day of December. So, i have been eating supper with Mrs. Kalantzakis. An omelet, potatoes and salad. It is not an exotic meal, but i am on a limited budget and in Greek, the way you say omelet, potatoes and salad is omeleta, patates, and salata. It is quite sufficient for me, and i have noticed with all the practice she is getting, Mrs Kalantzakis’ omelets are getting better and better. Sometimes i have fruit for lunch, sometimes cheese. Our own grocery store is the same size as our post office, but i can get fresh fruit from a grocery store only a twenty-minute walk down the beach to Koutsouris. Some days, i don’t have either lunch or supper, and Mrs Kalantzakis worries about it in Greek. It is hard to explain to her that sometimes i don’t care to eat. If she seems too worried, i just go ahead and eat her omeleta, patates and salata. By now, she is beginning to conclude that i am a little odd, and i think she is worrying less.
i am thirty-six years old and have been in Crete for four months only. Before that, i lived in New York City. Here, all i do is practice hatha yoga, walk down the beach to sit in a hidden cove i discovered, read books and write letters to my friends. The only books i am reading now are religious ones. i have always been interested in religious books, but this is the first time that i have given over my life to them. That is partially why i said that i sometimes feel my life is like an experiment. By religious books, i mean the Bible, the Koran, the Vedas of ancient India, the Sutras of Buddha. Religious books. i spent the earlier part of my life reading other kinds of books, and that was good too, You may think that i must be rich to be able to afford this kind of life style, but i am not rich at all. i saved my money, and when i had enough, gave most of my things away, quit my job and just came over here. In six months or so, i won’t have any more money and then i will be very not rich. But i try not to worry about what may or may not happen six months from now. Here is what Jesus said about worrying about tomorrow:
“Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil
not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you,
that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like
one of these.
If then God so clothe the grass, which is today
in the field, and tomorrow is cast into the oven;
how much more will he clothe you, O ye of little
faith?
And seek not ye what ye shall eat, or what ye
shall drink, neither be ye of doubtful mind.
For all these things do the nations of the world
seek after: and your Father knoweth that ye have
need of these things.
But rather seek ye the kingdom of God; and all
these things shall be added unto you.
Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father’s good
pleasure to give you the kingdom.”
These words help me not to worry so much. Sometimes, i forget and worry anyway.
i had a dog in New York. His name was Willy. Before i left, i gave him away. He was the hardest thing to give up, and sometimes i worry about him. He is rather silly, and sometimes i think he might believe i gave him away because i do not love him. One of the letters i received described him running on a farm (where he lives now), chasing cows, jumping fences and hiding from spooks on Halloween. He is a little timid, though you would think he is very fierce since he is a Doberman Pinscher (with long ears). Even though i have read things which help me to worry less about having no money, i haven’t found anything so far that helps me not to miss Willy. i have not read all the religious books yet, so maybe soon i will find something. If i do, i will write and tell you about it in another letter.
Here is a question that i would like to ask you. What is a “heathen”? You may think that it is a silly question to be asking someone, but i have a serious reason for asking it. Is a heathen the same as a gentile? The Koran has a lot to say about infidels. Is an infidel a heathen? You remember when the English were running things in India, they sent hundreds of missionaries over to “save the heathens.” Does that mean that all the Hindus are heathen or only some of them? Our own American Indians have been referred to as heathens. These heathen are indians spelled with a little “i” to show the difference, probably, in our heathens and theirs. Also, perhaps to show that our heathen are not very important after all. And not nearly as numerous. Does this mean that i can assume that all indians are heathen whether capital “I” or little “i”? Sometimes, i believe that when one refers to “natives,” he actually means heathens, but i am not certain about this. For instance, i think that all African natives are supposed to be heathen, but would you then be a heathen if you were a native of, say, New York? In India they have a large group of people called untouchables. An untouchable is so disgustingly heathen that a higher class Indian might shudder at the thought of having to touch him. This may be an example of a double heathen, an Indian with a capital “I” and an outcast rolled into one. i think i would rather be an infidel and take my chances with one dose of heathenism rather than two!
Does a heathen have pale skin and blue eyes? Arabs are distrustful of people with light colored eyes, you know. Or is it yellow skin? i have heard orientals referred to as yellow dogs. Maybe all orientals are heathen. In the American Civil War, a lot of southerners were convinced that Sherman and his army were heathens. i bet i know a heathen that nearly everyone would agree on. Richard Milhouse Nixon. The Chinese don’t think he is a heathen because he went to visit them and drank tea with them. They think he is very polite. But many people think that all Chinese are heathen.
The reason i am interested in the subject of heathenism is that the more religious books i have read, the more i begin to suspect that i am a heathen. It is o.k. for me to be one, but i get concerned about all the solutions to the heathen problem. Especially if i am to be a part of the problem solved. It is difficult for me to see the heathen problem, but i am sure that there is one. Even today, many religions are very worried about the heathen problem, and there aren’t many ways to solve it.
In the days of the Old Testament, the solutions were fairly clear. i think life must have been more simple in those days. First of all, in terms of categories, a heathen was anyone who wasn’t a jew. God chose them to be special. “Not you Mr. Chinese. Not you Miss Egypt.” “But you, Mr. Jew!” A few times, God nearly changed His mind because every time He was off having a conference with Moses, the jews were busy making golden cows to worship and things like that. One time God got so disgusted with the situation He told Moses to get out of His way because He was going to wipe out the whole bunch. Moses told Him it would not look particularly good, and the Egyptians might get a big kick out of it, after He had made such a to do about leaving Egypt and all. God thought Moses had a point.
“And the Lord repented of the evil which
he thought to do unto his people. ”
Sometimes, i wonder if it was fair to single out one group like that but St. Paul says:
“Therefore hath he mercy on whom he will
have mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth.
Who art thou that repliest against God? Shall
the thing formed say to him that formed it,
Why hast thou made me thus?
Hath not the potter power over the clay,
of the same lump to make one vessel unto
honour, and another unto dishonour? ”
i think this means “you had better keep your questions to yourself, buster. Or I will call you a heathen.”
Because God loved these special children so much, He decided to give them the Promised Land, which was flowing with milk and honey. There was only one problem. The Promised Land was Occupied. God said that this was not a big problem, however, since the land belonged to heathens. So he advised the children of Israel to go on in and “claim” what was rightly theirs. Sometimes, the Lord also told His children to wipe out all the heathens in some areas of the Promised Land. For instance, with the exception of Rahab the harlot and her family, the Lord decided that all the heathens in Jericho should face the music:
“And they utterly destroyed all that was
in the city, both man and woman, young
and old, and ox, and sheep, and ass,
with the edge of the sword.”
It makes me sad to think of all these people having to die. Even little children, i guess. But i think God did this because He was concerned that the heathens might contaminate His chosen children. They were so nearly heathen themselves that one intermarriage might have wrecked the whole race. Thus, the children of Israel moved in to the Promised Land and we have the first two principles about heathens. The first one is:
heathens do not have a right to Private Property. i do not mind that one as much as the second one: In cases of necessity, particularly if they do not accept rule number one, it is acceptable to kill heathen. You may begin to see now why i am getting a little worried about whether i am a heathen or not
One of the most successful attempts at solving the heathen problem came in Germany when Hitler decided that the jews were heathen. Both rules were applied there, and the jews lost their property and their lives too. Hitler and a few of his friends had almost wiped out all the jewish heathens before his luck ran out.
In America, we discovered a new rule. It was: Cram ‘em into a reservation. i think we thought this new rule up because God did not tell us to kill the indian heathen – directly. Even though America was the Promised Land to our forefathers, and it was occupied by heathen just like in the Old Testament days, i think our forefathers were reluctant to use rule number two, Maybe because they did not have such a direct line as did the early jews. But we certainly used rule number one, and by making up rule number three, we had a place to put them. The major advantage to rule number three was that we did not have to kill anybody. Nature did that through disease and famine. i believe that this rule will not work in every case. For instance, it will not work when there are more of them than us. It’s one thing to put Mr. Nixon on the reservation, but what can you do about all the Chinese? They would not go, probably.
Finally, there is the Christian solution, which would be rule number four. i like this one best of all. Rule number four is: in the event that the first three rules are not legal, then “save” the bastards. They can go to their own churches you see, and be no trouble at all. When they refuse to be saved (Moslems are among the worst for not being savable), the solution is not to kill their body – just damn their souls to hell and be done with it! That seems to be the Christian attitude. And the Moslem attitude as well.
i hope you have thought about heathens too. Maybe you will be able to tell me whether i am one or not, and, if i am, how to keep it a big secret! It is late now, and has turned quite cool. i am sipping a cup of delicious hot tea and am ready to be silent now. Usually i just sit on a blanket, close my eyes, and try to be quiet for a while before getting into bed. Sometimes, i like to silently repeat a prayer from one of the books i am reading. Sometimes when it’s cold, i jump into bed and pull the blanket over my head. Goodnight for now.
“I will both lay me down in peace
and sleep:
For thou, Lord, only makest me dwell
in safety.”
December 29, 1977
Good morning.
It is around six thirty and the sun is not up yet. Already, the sky is lighter, and a few puffs of grey clouds are beginning to turn pink around the edges. i am sitting on a wool blanket on the floor. From here, i can look through glass doors out to the horizon across the sea. i love to sit like this every morning and watch for that moment when the sun first pops out of the ocean. Sometimes, i think this is the most magical moment in my life – that moment when the sun magically appears and begins to spread warmth and light over the world. Sometimes, i can almost imagine someone shouting, “Lights, Camera, Action –“ and i add, “Music!” A new day! A new beginning! And the roosters start cockadoodling just in case anyone missed the show. This was a special morning for me, because i knew, when i first opened my eyes, that i was going to write you some more today. That made me feel good. Usually, when i get out of bed and sit on my wool blanket, i repeat this short prayer:
May the entire world be filled with peace and joy!
But it is a Hindu prayer so if you are a Christian or a Buddhist you might want to ignore a heathen prayer that early in the morning. You probably thought i would forget about heathens, didn’t you? As you can tell, it is on my mind a lot lately.
i have another question i would like to ask you about, and i am sorry to admit that it is another religious question. What is a sin? This question has perplexed me all my life. When i was a small boy, i was always asking various people various questions about various sins. For instance, one of my favorites was, “Why was it a sin for Adam and Eve to want knowledge?” Even though the answer was usually very vague – sometimes not much more than a mutter – i was willing to accept the possibility that they did sin, in order to get to my next question, “Why does that make us sinners?” i was smart enough to say “us” rather than “me”, because i knew that if i asked an adult, “Why does that make me a sinner?” he would quickly reply, “I don’t know, but you obviously are a sinner or you wouldn’t be asking such nasty questions!” i have always been unusually clever. My questions got more annoying by the year. “What is the difference in going to hell for little sins and for the big league sins?” And, “Are there degrees of burning?” i do not believe anyone was very worried that i might be a heathen at that point. Just a brat. i think a few people began to worry about me when i asked my next question, “Why should i be punished forever, for the things i do in one lifetime? Is that a fair way to run things?” But mostly, the adults were sincere in their answers, and tried to be helpful. i noticed at an early age however, that the better the question, the more likely the answer would be, “It’s a mystery.” Or, “We will all know that in the by and by.” It was clear to me that it would be a long “by and by” before i would come up with any answers to my questions.
In many parts of the world it is a terrible sin to eat meat. These people seem to believe that God loves everything He made and not just His Chosen Children, the human animals. These people would rather starve to death than have a bite of some old cow wandering along the road. In other parts of the world, it is almost a sin not to eat meat. “Why, it’s no sin to eat meat,” they say. “God told us to.” “Whose God told you to do such a thing?” the other group will say. “The God. That’s who, you heathen you.” And so on. Then another group comes along and says, “It’s no sin to eat some meat. But not swine. Or shrimp.” “And not on Tuesdays.” And so on. Jesus said we would all be better off if we would pay more attention to what comes out of our mouths by way of the heart and be less concerned about what goes into the belly and out you know where.
i don’t like to eat meat, but it isn’t because i feel that it would be a sin. It’s because i’m a sissy! Even when i was a little boy, i was a sissy, and sometimes my friends told me so. i could not bear to watch other boys trying to kill a bird with their BB guns. “Stop it!” i would say. But they would look at me as if i were the strangest heathen in town. “Why, it’s only an old crow.” Or this kind of bird or that kind. They were always bad birds and it was ok to kill them. i did not like to fish either, nor to eat fish. i never could figure out the “sport”of it – taking a perfectly nice worm crawling along minding his business, sticking a sharp hook through his little body (Oh it doesn’t hurt them. They don’t feel a thing!), casting the worm, hook, and line into the water and waiting like a thief for a fish to swim along minding his own business. And they don’t feel a thing either! Here in Crete, many people stand by the edge of the water and fish. Sometimes, when i am strolling along, i look down into the baskets where the fish are all flopping around after the hook has been removed from their mouths. Sometimes i look at their strange eyes staring out at a world no longer enveloped in water, as they flop around slowly dying. Sometimes i wonder why people say the fish can’t feel. Sure looks to me like they are feeling something.
Nor chickens. Every time i sit down to face some plump, tasty hen, i see it pecking around on its funny two feet. Standing first on one foot, then the next, always looking around and ready to squawk and flee for his life at the slightest noise. Chickens are paranoid, you know. i am not sure whether they have been written up yet or not, but if they haven’t, i bet they will be. All you have to do is watch them a while. i imagine that if my father and grandfather and great-grandfather (not to mention aunts, uncles, and cousins) had been chased all over the yard, and finally had their necks wrung, i would be paranoid too. So, no chicken for me, even southern fried. If hamburgers were shaped like a cow, i would be in big trouble.
Did you think i have forgotten the question? i hardly ever forget questions. Is it a sin to kill? One of the Ten Commandments is Thou shalt not kill. But that certainly did not seem to apply to the citizens of Jericho. Lot’s wife got eliminated just for turning around. One guy even got it for touching the Ark of the Covenant – God’s Home away from Home. So you could not say that thou shalt not kill applies in every case. Moslems think it is definitely a sin to pray to anyone but God. Roman Catholics think it is not a sin to ask a little favor from a Saint or from Mary. Some Hindus think it is a sin to ask God for selfish favors. They think we should be spending our time giving thanks to Him, and praise, rather than sending up a bunch of “gimmes”. Protestants do not believe it is a sin to ask God for this and that. Buddhists think it is a sin to do any act of violence period. No harming of others! But Christians believe it is not a sin if it is for a just cause. Moslems used to believe it was not a sin to do the infidels in if they would not convert, and they wiped out a good segment of the population while spreading the faith. Christians have always believed it is a sin not to believe in Jesus. Moslems think it is a sin to believe in Jesus. One famous Hindu said:
“He alone is a sinner who sees a sinner in another.”
This sin question may be harder than the heathen question.
My next question is not a serious one, but sometimes my brain gets rather tired of serious questions. Here it is. Are all Cretans liars? If you have a Bible, and turn it to the Epistle to Titus (Chapter 1, verses 12 and 13), you will find that St. Paul says:
“One of themselves, even a prophet of their own said,
the Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, slow bellies.
This witness is true. Wherefore rebuke them sharply,
that they may be sound in faith.”
Although it is a different question, i wonder why they changed the spelling from Cretians to Cretans. Of course, that is a different can of worms entirely. Sometimes, i wonder if St. Paul actually met every single Cretan or just generalized from a few bad encounters. After four months of living in Crete, i am pleased to answer the question: “Are all Cretans liars?” The answer is no, they are not. St. Paul was incorrect, although it was an easy enough mistake to make. For instance, if you are standing at a bus stop in Iraklion or another large town, and you do not know when the next bus is due, you might turn to a nice man walking your way and say, “Ti oro ine leoforio?” That sort of means what time does the next bus come by. You will get a very friendly smile, and maybe the man will say, “very soon” in English, or “tora” in Greek. But when you double check with another friendly Cretan strolling by, he may say, “Oh, not for half an hour.” So you decide to triple check by asking the pretty woman coming down the street. “Ti ora ine leoforio, please,” and you discover sadly that the route was discontinued last week due to not enough customers. She is very helpful however, and upon learning that you are going to the museum, tells you that it is only a fifteen-minute walk from here, so you smile, thank her and walk happily away. As you round the corner a block away, you hear the screeching tires of the bus and you turn to see it stopped at the bus stop with people clambering on and off. If you run back, usually you will miss it, and if you walk on, you will find it is a forty-minute walk to the museum. You can easily see why St. Paul might have thrown up his arms in disgust. He probably missed the bus and was late for an important meeting where he was to give the sermon. It is bad for a regular preacher to be late to church. i think it is very bad for a Saint to be late.
i do not think Cretans are liars at all (though some may be, for i have not met every one of them yet). What i have noticed is that a Cretan would never insult you by not giving you an answer to your question. Sometimes, he may not have an answer, but that doesn’t faze the average Cretan for a moment. He just gives you his best opinion on the subject! To be scientifically correct, i will answer this question another way. Very few Cretans are liars! And almost all are wonderful humans.
Here is another sin question for you. Is it a sin to meditate? This would seem like a very silly question to a yogi. He might even laugh out loud and think (“what a heathen!”). In America it is in vogue in many larger places. They call it T.M. and other names. But for a lot of people, i think it is not a silly question at all, i think it is a serious question. For instance, when i visit my family and go to church with them, i have heard more than one minister warn the flock about the evils of meditation – the idea being that it is a secret form of heathen worship, and once you get started in it, you will get caught by the Devil and then be in one fine kettle of fish!
i love to do hatha yoga because it makes me feel so good. The idea of hatha yoga is that the body is the temple of our soul and we should keep the temple “swept and dusted clean.” So, i do a series of physical exercises to keep myself healthy and strong. But i have just started trying to meditate, and cannot exactly say what i think about it yet. Lots of people feel very strongly about the subject of meditation without having a strong hold on what the subject is – so i am going to tell you what i have read about it in one of my religious books.
There are four branches of yoga: karma yoga, bhakti yoga, jnana yoga and raja yoga. Karma yoga is for people who are very active and happy only if they are working. Bhakti yoga is for the emotional person. The type that always manages to find something to love. Jnana yoga is for the intellectual-philosopher type and raja yoga is for the mystical person. Sometimes, the great teachers of one branch of yoga do not agree with the teachers of another branch. Sometimes, i think they regard the others as being heathen. For instance, many of the meditating yogis frown on hatha yoga, and regard it as a waste of time. The idea is that we are trying to get above being interested in physical things, and when we spend time exercising the body, we are actually getting lost in the flesh and in worldliness. One of the great teachers who believed this was a man named Vivekananda. He died when he was thirty-nine years old and did not seem to mind at all. i am thirty-six and i exercise every single day. i would mind a whole lot. Sometimes, i wonder how people can have compassion for a fly and not seem to have compassion for this body that God gave us. Sometimes, i think about my body working away for me, and i whisper in there to my heart, “thanks.” i can almost hear it whisper back (between beats), “that’s ok, you’re welcome.” One time, i remarked to a good friend of mine who is also a very good minister in New York City, that i loved myself a whole lot. Only one of his eyebrows shot up, but for a moment i thought it might escape the gravitational pull. For one second, I believe, i looked like a heathen!
Meditation belongs to the Raja branch of yoga. The idea these old sages came up with was, that if you want to learn how to know your inner self, you have to follow the same procedures a scientist follows. When a scientist is observing something under a microscope, he cannot be thinking of the fact that his feet are tired or that his wife seemed worried at breakfast this morning. (If the husband happens to be a woman, it is the same with the feet, but substitute husband for wife at the breakfast table.) The scientist has to put his mind into that one tiny speck he is observing and exclude all other thoughts. That is called concentration. These old sages decided that a person seeking to know his inner self had to do the same thing, only in reverse. In other words, you had to learn how to concentrate on your inner spirit the same way a scientist would concentrate on something external. This internal type of concentration is what they called meditation, and thousands of years ago, they carefully laid out the steps to help you go deeper into self-knowledge. It is very complicated, and i will not go into the various levels and steps because it gives me a headache to think about it. By the time Jesus was born, this meditation business was already very old. Some people think Jesus Himself might have meditated a little, but i would not go around telling that to anyone i meet. Not unless i wanted to be called a certain name.
i know many people who think they are as ugly as sin inside. Maybe they picture old Satan in their hearts and God outside and a daily struggle being fought for their soul. i do not believe it would be such a good idea for these people to try to meditate. Some people, however, would not mind a peek or two into their own hearts, and it might not be a sin for them to try. A lot would depend on what they find inside. Jesus said:
“Behold, the kingdom of God is within you.”
That would not be such a terrible thing to find at all.
If you ask me in a year or so what i have discovered about meditation, i will be able to tell you more about it. All that i have noticed so far is that my mind reminds me of a room full of babbling children. (You may already have figured that out.) i will sit and try to not think of anything in particular and try to have no thoughts running around in my mind. Then, i will begin to think, “Hey, i’m doing it! i’m meditating!” Then i realize that i am thinking about the omelet tonight, or all the Christmas cards that i mailed, and why haven’t i heard from Phil. So i give a little shrug and start again. But by this time, my legs ache, so i decide to meditate tomorrow. When tomorrow comes, i sit and begin. This time, it is better! My mind is slowing down, my thoughts are fading away, and i sort of nod approvingly to myself. A few minutes later, i become aware of this frown on my face, and i realize i have been thinking about what i will do when the money runs out. And, is Marion Moore ok? How much colder is it going to get here? Should i go to Egypt? i am not so sure that meditation is a sin, but for me it is well nigh impossible to do. And very boring.
You remember i mentioned that sometimes i walk down the beach with big messages to the world running through my head? Important thoughts? Sometimes, when i am thinking about it later, i wonder if i might have missed seeing some incredible shell that washed in to the beach while i was walking by. Maybe the waves took it back out the next moment. Maybe for hundreds of years it will not wash back in to the beach. Or, i wonder if i walked past someone who was in need of a friend, and i was so busy with these big thoughts that i missed the chance to be a friend to a real person. So much of the time, i am spending my life thinking thoughts that are of no use to me or anyone else. i would like it if meditation could help me to spend more time being quiet inside and more in this world, That would be nice for me.
Here is a poem i found in a book. i copied it in green ink on a little card and tacked it to the wall in my room. Now, you will have it too.
“Dwell, O Mind, within yourself;
Enter no other’s home.
If you but seek there, you will find
All you are searching for,
God the true Philosophers’ Stone
Who answers every prayer,
Lies Hidden deep within your heart,
The richest gem of all.
How many pearl and precious stones
Are scattered all about
The over court that lies before
The chamber of your heart.”
It is evening now and i am sitting in my room boiling water for instant coffee. i have one of those coils you put in a cup, plug in a socket and a few minutes later have water briskly boiling away. It is a handy device. One cold night, i spent a long time trying to figure a way to turn my heating coil into a heater. This afternoon i walked along the beach to my hidden cove where i love to climb the rocks and sit and look at the sea and the sky or sometimes a boat drifting by, far away. A lot of those boats are on their way to Egypt which is only a few hundred miles south of here. This cove has its own sandy beach with no way to get in or out except by climbing along the rocks on either side. When i sit in there, i imagine i am the first human to have been there for thousands of years, and i imagine that i will discover some message left there by someone a long time ago. Today, i found a beautiful white and green rock that will make an ideal paperweight. i have decided that it was a gift from that human who sat in the hidden cove many years ago.
i wrote you so much this morning that i am tired, so i have decided to close for now. i am enclosing this short poem that i wrote to myself nearly ten years ago. It isn’t such a good poem, but when i wrote it, i was not so sure i was going to be ok in life and that made me feel sad. i would not have dreamed, ten years ago, that i would one day be living in Crete, practicing hatha yoga, reading religious books and writing you a letter!
“Goodnight my soul –
You seem to live without my care.
You seem to live –
On nothing.
Tonight i say, sweet dreams,
My soul.
i seem.
You are.”
December 30, 1977
“Praise be to God, Lord of the worlds!
The compassionate, the merciful!
King on the day of reckoning!
Thee only do we worship, and to Thee do we cry for help.
Guide Thou us on the straight path,
The path of those to whom Thou has been gracious,
With whom Thou art not angry, and who go not astray.”
Good morning! This is a vigorous prayer to start the day off with. The Moslems call it “The Treasure.” i need to say something as vigorous as possible this morning; i just discovered it is two A.M.. When i awoke, i heard someone laughing near my window, so i went down the steps to ask him, “Ti ora ine.” What time is it? It was Steven and he was on his way home to go to sleep! Today is the day that i have to report to the police station in Jerapetra to have my visa extended. It was a mistake to go to Jerapetra originally. Aliens living in Makrigialos are supposed to go to Sitia to have their visa extended. But the policeman who first told me, thought that i was supposed to go to Jerapetra. This was before i had learned that he might be expressing an opinion rather than stating a fact. Now, if i had to do it over, i would ask eleven policemen and take my chances with the city having the most votes. Anyway, i went to Jerapetra and the policeman there filled out the form, took my money and mailed off the application. He did not know that Jerapetra was the wrong place either! This particular story goes on for a long time, and i am tired of it already. i still don’t have my visa, but they swore it would be ready today.
The bus from Sitia to Jerapetra comes rolling through Makrigialos around seven o’clock. Our bus station is even smaller than our post office. You just walk up to the road and stand there until you see the bus flying toward you. Then you wildly wave your arms, and throw yourself in front of the bus, and just before running you down, he stops. This is low overhead indeed, and very simple if you have a clock or a watch. But i left mine in New York City, sort of jumping into the now with reckless abandon. Each time i have gone to Jerapetra to have my visa extended, i have had the same problem. i wake up between two or three in the morning. On a non visa day, i wake up around six – plenty of time for the “leoforio.” But on visa days, i awake between two or three in the morning – plenty of time to catch the bus and practice my heathen meditation too. Today i can also write to you, therefore i do not mind waking at two o’clock at all.
Someday, i hope to trust myself so much that i will not have to wake up five hours early just to catch a bus. Some people go to sleep and wake up whenever they want to – without any alarm clock, screaming wife or screaming husband to get them up. That would be good for me, especially on visa days. Last month, i was thinking about trusting myself and wrote:
To be one, In myself, with myself. To be still. Quite in activity and non-activity. To remember truth when it is worldly to forget. To be always in love with all life. Help me to become all this, dear Lord.
The reason i am interested in remembering truth all the time is that i have a tendency to remember things only as long as there is no reason to forget them. When a good enough reason comes walking by, i generally have a serious case of amnesia. For instance, i may be walking along minding my own business and a man may reach out his hand and ask me for some money. i usually think in such cases, “He probably will waste it on wine.” Or, “He probably will waste it on gambling.” Or, “ He probably will waste it.” Here is a good one. “He has on better clothes than i do.” Or, “He makes more money begging than i do working.” Or, “Why Don’t You Get a Job, You Worthless Bum!” Or, “i work hard for what little i have.” Very sad. Chronic amnesia. i have noticed that, in order to have this amnesia, it is important to not look into his eyes. One look at the man’s eyes will often give me a severe case of memory. So, if you ever see me strolling down the street looking at everything but someone’s eyes, you can say to yourself, “Now there goes a severe case of amnesia!
Here is my last sin question. Is it a sin to pray to “their” God? The reason i am asking you this question is probably obvious by now, but i am going to explain it as if it were not so obvious. When i was a little boy, i loved to read. All the time i was reading, first this novel then that novel. And when i read, i always felt as if what was happening in the book was happening to me i laughed when he was laughing, or cried when she was crying. i believe this is the way all children read, but i am not sure about it. Unfortunately, i never seem to have outgrown that method of reading. So, after i became an adult, i would sit and be crying if he cried or laughing if she laughed. But i hid it more because when you become an adult you have to be tricky about these things. After i had finished the book, i might think back and say to myself, “Well, that certainly was a dumb book.” But while reading, i usually believed in it. Now you have figured out my problem. Here i am reading all these religious books and have been for months. It s beginning to be “afterwards,” but i am not beginning to say, “Well, that certainly was a dumb book.” And i have a tendency to want to pray to “their” God as well as my own.
When i was a little boy, i always prayed to “Our Father who art in heaven,” and that was fine for me. He was everyone’s God. i remember singing this song:
“Jesus loves the little children,
All he children of the world.
Red and yellow, black and white,
They are precious in His sight.
Jesus loves the little children of the world.”
i loved to sing that song. In fact, i still do. Then i started to ask all these questions and began to wonder what happens to all those red and yellow, black and white children who do not pray to Jesus or “Our Father who art.” One question i did not ask the adults was, “are there kindergartens in hell?” i knew better than to ask such a question, for i was already pushing my luck. i think that by the time i was ten i had already decided that if God truly loved His children, He was not going to get upset just because they got His name wrong. i did not care what the adults said. What did they ever know about anything anyway? So that was fine for me. It was fine until i came to Crete. Now, i’m beginning to get the names mixed up too, and beginning to love “their” God as well as my own. If this looked like a temporary condition, i would not worry about it. But it looks to be getting worse instead of better.
When i read my own Bible, i read that God loved us so much that He sent down His only begotten Son. i believe that. Then i read in another Bible that God so loved those people that He sent them a Son also. And i believe that. Then i read in another Bible that God so loves us, that He Himself comes down to help us – in the form of a human – whenever we are badly in need of help. Oh dear, and i believe that too. It just gets worse and worse. One Bible says we cannot be saved unless we believe in the Son. Another Bible says we cannot be saved unless we believe in ourselves. The Son only shows the way. Here is a poem that explains that belief:
“Who injureth others.
Himself hurteth sore.
Who others assisteth
Himself helpeth more.
Let the illusion of self
From the mind disappear
And You’ll find the sure;
The path with be clear.
By ourselves is evil done
By ourselves we pain endure.
By ourselves we cease from wrong,
By ourselves become we pure.
No one saves us but ourself,
No one can and no one may.
We ourselves must walk the path,
Buddhas merely teach the way.”
Many millions of people would think that this is the worst form of heathenism – to suggest that we save ourselves. But many other millions think it is heathen to blame your sins on a devil and expect to ride to heaven on Jesus’ coattails – that we must accept responsibility for ourselves, in other words.
i have pondered over this stuff a lot, especially while sitting in the hidden cove. i read all these different beliefs, all these different names for God and, He seems to get bigger in my mind and in my heart. Jesus called Him Abba, and the Jews called Him Jehovha. Moslems call Him Allah and Hindus call Him Brahman. In India, they have one special word that they use to sort of sum up all the names. What do you think it is? Here is a clue. We describe God as omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent. They just call Him OM and be done with it!
Some people might say, “Now you see what happens when you start meddling in heathenism,” but that does not help me a lot. Someone else might say, “You should have waited till you had outgrown your reading problem before you started reading all these religious books.” That does not help so much either. i think the only solution is to just call myself a heathen once and for all. Then i can pray to all the names and love whom i please. Secretly thought i still love Jesus the most. Here are some words that He said in His sermon on the mount. i love them very much.
“Give to every man that asketh of thee, and
of him that taketh away thy goods
ask them not again.
And as ye would that men should do to you,
do ye also to them likewise.
For if ye love them which love you, that thank
have ye? For sinners also love those that love them.
And if ye do good to them which do good to
you, what thank have ye? For sinners also do
even the same.
And if ye lend to them of whom ye hope
to receive, what thank have ye? For sinners,
also lend to sinners, to receive as much again.
But love ye your enemies, and do good, and
lend, hoping for nothing again, and your
reward shall be great and ye shall be the children
of the Highest; for he is kind until the
unthankful and to the evil.
Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father
also is merciful.
Judge not, and ye shall not be judged:
condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned”
forgive, and ye shall be forgiven. ”
The sky is beginning to lighten now, though the sun is not near to rising. i hope it is at least five o’clock. If it doesn’t get seven soon, i am afraid i will go back to sleep and miss the bus. But that would be ok too. Here is another Moslem prayer that i like:
“Wait thou patiently the judgment of
thy Lord, for thou art in our eye, and
celebrate the praise of thy Lord when
thou risest up
And in the night season: Praise him
when the stars are setting.”
Goodbye for now.
New Years Day, 1978
Good morning! I hope life is good for us all inside and outside in the year ahead. I caught the bus after all. I walked up to the highway, found me a big stump and sat down on it. Maybe it was six or six thirty. I did not try any meditating for fear of falling into a deep religious trance and getting squashed by the bus. So I just sat there and watched the stars flicker and the moon peep from some clouds. I tried to picture you sleeping soundly in your bed, maybe dreaming of a lost city of flying through the air. One time, I got lonely. Sitting in the dark beside a road can do that to you sometimes - especially in Crete. If you ever come to visit here, you will see what I mean. Crete is mostly rocks that pile up in the middle into huge mountains. Wherever you are, you are near those mountains on one side and the sea on the other. Sometimes, the wind comes whistling down from the tops of the mountains, but sometimes it come screaming down. It can be pretty scary. One thing that I like is the way the olive trees just seem to grow out of the rocks. And also almond trees, carob trees, orange trees - even cucumber and tomato patches. It is as if someone forgot to tell Crete that these things require soil to grow in, or they did tell Crete, but it just smiled politely and went on tending to its business - which includes growing a lot of food. But at night, Crete can look very uncivilized, which may be why i was beginning to feel lonely. And then I saw the lights on the bus flashing through the night as it roared down the mountain from Sitia. The moment you get on the bus in Crete, you are no longer lonely. The first thing you notice is the Greek music blaring over a loudspeaker. One or two people will be singing along unless it is a popular folksong. Then five to ten will be singing. About fifteen Cretans will be talking to each other and managing to be heard. A couple of babies will probably be crying, but they are difficult to be heard due to the extreme noise. Another thing you will notice is the front window. Each bus is especially decorated by the bus driver. Usually, on either side of the window will be a pot of artificial flowers. Then there is your usual altar directly above where the driver sits. To his right, you find a picture of his mother, father, sweetheart or wife. Sometimes, you will see a picture of his priest. There is a fringe running all the way across the top of the window and down the sides. If you happen to get on a really well decorated bus, you will also find a series of lights strung across the fringe, which flash on and off as he applies the brakes. But the Sitia to Ierapetra bus does not have the lights. All this at seven o’clock in the morning - when it’s still dark outside. In Crete there are no school buses except in Iraklion and maybe a couple of other large towns. So, the children going to school all ride the seven o'‘clock bus. Now. you have to add this new ingredient to the pot. Here we go, flying aronnd curves, the bus swaying back and forth, everyone screaming, the fringe shaking, the music blaring, the driver trying to shout something to the man who takes up the tickets, and we screech to a stop for every school child between Makrigialos and Ierapetra where they go to school. Not only do i not feel lonely, but i always get this silly grin on my face which i try hard to control. i think these people are a lot like the olive trees, but i could not explain that in one million years or more.
i am nearing the end of my letter to you now. i can feel it although i do not know how. There are a few more things i must tell you about - for instance Danielle and Marie. First, i have one more question for you. Who’s flood was it?
Here is an old story from a Hindu “Bible"
Manu was a famous sage in ancient India. One day, he was praying on the bank of the Ganges (a sacred river in India - much more sacred than the Mississippi, but maybe not as clean). While he was praying, a little minnow swam along and asked Manu for protection. “What do you want?” asked Manu. The little minnow declared that he was being pursued by a bigger fish. So Many put him into a pot of water and, after he was finished with his prayers, carried the minnow home with him. The next morning, the little minnow had grown to the size of a fish and was nearly a big as the pot. “I cannot live in this pot any longer,” declared the fish. so Manu put it in a tank. The next day, the fish had grown till it was as big as the tank and declared that he certainly could not live in the tank anymore. So, poor Manu carried the fish and the tank to a river and put it in the river. The next morning, when Manu went to check on the fish, he discovered that the fish had grown overnight and now filled the river. Somehow, Manu managed to get this huge fish into the ocean. One the fist was in the ocern, he declared, “Manu, I am the Creator of the Universe. I have taken this form to come and warn you that I will deluge the world. Build an ark and in it put a pair of every kind of animals, and let your family enter the ark. Our to the water there will project my horn. Fasten the ark to it, and when the deluge subsides, come out and people the earth.” Bus, the world was deluge and Manu saved his own family, and two of every kind of animal, and seeds of every plant.
When the deluge subsided, he came and peopled the world, and we all called “man” because we re the progeny of Manu. (Vivekananda)
I am glad we were named after Mane instead of Noah, if we had been name after Noah, we would be called either Nos or Wonos which sounds dumb to me.
Now I would like to tell you about Daniel and Marie. As you know, i have been in Crete for four months now, and as the months passed by, i have begun to feel good about myself. i felt good about myself before i came to Crete too. But here, i feel good about all this hatha yoga i am doing, and all the religious books i am reading – you might call it feeling good about being advanced. One day about a month ago, i was writing in my diary that “things are going very well,” and at that moment i heard some footsteps on the porch. It was Daniel and Marie, a young couple from Quebec who had decided to spend a few days in Makrigialos. When you get off the bus, and walk down the path toward the beach, you notice one building above all the others. It is painted bright orange, with green and red trim. And it has painted on the wall: “Rooms For Rent.” If anyone in this area asks you where you are staying and you say “rooms for rent,” they know immediately where you live. That is where Daniel and Marie decided to stay. You have already guessed that it is where i live too
i was glad that they were going to stay here for a few days, because i get lonely sometimes. And they were very interesting to me – the first French Canadians that i had ever met. Although they did not speak English too well, they surely spoke it better than i spoke French, so we mostly talked in my language. Sometimes, i had fun trying to speak French and they were nice about it. This was before the one restaurant closed, and we enjoyed having supper there with friendly conversation afterwards. Daniel did not like New York City at all, and he told me so in fairly strong language. Also, i began to think that neither Daniel or Marie had much love for the United States, although they were not overly critical of it. At that point, i was not aware of how tired i had become of hearing people criticize America. i have noticed that many people in Europe do not like the United States. They might express it by telling me, “You certainly do not look like an American,” as if that were a nice compliment. Or they might say, “You surely do not act like an American.” That is considered a high compliment in some places. Gradually, this had begun to bother me a lot, and i think i was overly sensitive to criticism about my country by the time i met Daniel and Marie.
Daniel and Marie are strongly in favor of making Quebec into a new French country. The more i listened to their ideas about separation, the more i began to realize that i did not think it was such a good idea. Of course, if i had been in the minority for over three hundred years – as have French Canadians – i would see things quite differently. it is easy to have all these grand ideas about everyone getting together when you have grown up in the majority. It is easy to say “assimilate” when you are the group they are supposed to assimilate into. But i still had these secret thoughts that were increasingly becoming critical. It seemed to me that this was trying to cure one wrong with another wrong. And increasing bitter feeling rather than solving anything. Somehow, Daniel and Marie began to represent all these people hating each other: The Protestants and Catholics in Northern Ireland. The Arabs and the Jews. The Greeks and the Turks. Everyone fighting each other – all the while demanding they are special and different
Here is an important fact that i have left out till now. Though i consider New York City my home in America, i am a Southerner by birth and growing up. The reason i am telling this, is because i discovered that as i began to dislike more of Daniel and Marie’s ideas, i began to become more Southern about it. As you probably know, we Southerners learn at an early age to be nice to everybody – particularly to people we do not like – i believe this practice came originally from the Bible. “Love your enemy” – the South being deeply religious. Somehow it evolved more into “Be nice to your enemy.” The idea behind this may be to kill them with kindness, but i am not sure about it. As i perceived a growing dislike for all their ideas about separating from Canada, and an increasing resentment for their criticism of things American as opposed to things Quebec, i became more Southern and got nicer. Maybe they even decided to stay in Makrigialos a few days longer because we were having such a nice time.
The evening before they left, we were having supper and my niceness began to slowly slip away. i cannot recall what subject started the whole thing, but eventually we were arguing very loudly – mostly Daniel and myself. For myself, it was a matter of expressing these secret feelings that i had allowed to grow inside over a few days. They had come to represent all my hates in this world – our littleness, our lack of self-awareness, our intolerance. All of us being God’s chosen children – willing to fight and die, but more often, kill for the sake of our difference. It was so distorted in my mind that i could even see Daniel and Marie blowing up a building, hurting people, all the while shouting “Vive New France,” and waving, proudly, some banner. As we were arguing, i realized that i had begun to Hate Daniel and Marie. To me, they were Heathens. They left early the next morning, and i never saw them again.
Many times i sit at the hidden cove and think about Daniel and Marie – about how odd that they arrived on a day when i was feeling particularly proud of being advanced. i think of how they were beginning to like a certain American, and how, in truth, they are a young man and woman who are very warm and nice. i wish i could find them and tell them how deeply sorry i am for being so unloving. It would probably make little difference to them. They would never trust me again for sure, and have probably long since forgotten that unpleasant episode in their trip to Crete. i am not certain why it was important for me to tell you about Daniel and Marie. Maybe it was just so you would know more about who i am inside. You will need to know these things about me, if we are to become friends. You will have to realize that many times i am not a good person at all. And i think it was important for me to tell you what i learned from being with Daniel and Marie. i learned that i can sit in my room and read the words of Jesus, and practice my hatha yoga, and believe that i love everyone in the world. But thinking loving thoughts about people is not the same as doing loving things to them. It is easy to love, when you do not have to deal with people. And i learned that i still see heathens in this world, and have a lot of work left before i can give the world at least one less tiny problem.
It is late afternoon, and growing chilly. i have been sitting on the porch, but will go inside now. The sun has slipped over the hills to the west. It will soon be night. It was a good beginning to 1978 for me. i will finish my letter to you in the morning and close for now with this Hindu prayer that is about my favorite of all.
“Lead us from the unreal to the Real.
Lead us from the darkness of Ignorance
to the Light of Knowledge.
Lead us from the fear of dying
to the realization of our own Immortality.
Om Peace Peace Peace ”
January 2, 1978
This is the end of my letter to you. Sometimes, i think i will not write you another one until i am seventy-two. i bet i will have so many questions by then that your head will really hurt. i have been thinking about some poem i love the best to enclose here – but there are too many. i have decided to pick one “sort of” favorite thing and be done with it. If you have already read this proverb – just skip it and go on to the last part of my letter.
“Look to this day for it is life.
The very life of life.
In its brief course lies all
The realities and verities of
Existence -
The bliss of growth, the
Splendor of action,
The glory of power.
For yesterday is but a dream
And tomorrow is only a vision.
But today well lived
Makes every yesterday
A dream of happiness
And every tomorrow a
Vision of hope.
Look well therefore to this Day. ”
i hope you will write me back, because i have begun to love you a little. i hope you will be ok in life. i am sending you a wish, and i hope it lands in the middle of your heart and settles there. i hope it will bloom in your own garden among your own flowers.
God bless us, everyone,
A heathen, for sure.
