Between Worlds. A contemporary slice of life

Extracts from my inaugural introduction ( 2007).

Our appearance in this world is UNIQUE . There is only one of us.  How ever much we try, we can never escape this challenging reality. We can live our own lives, but nobody else’s. That’s the game we all must play, regardless the circumstances we are thrust. Whether into abject poverty, boundless riches or middle class suburbia, how ever brief or extended, glorious or insignificant our dance upon life’s stage – we all share this primal human condition.

Due to the various circumstances that we find ourselves in, it’s not all ways possible for every one to be able to tell their own story, what to speak of write it. Even with the ability to write and express one’s self, how many have the time to pursue such an indulgence. Of those with the means, time and ability, how many have the motivation, need and inspiration to even want to share their slice of the pie?

Apparently I’ve had a sign on my forehead for quite a while now. Even the charming, sympathetic dole man when I was going through a sticky patch, was in on my story telling story. Out of the blue, in a meditative pause between signing me on, he said with knowing conviction. “You’re going to write a book!” “Really?”  I responded off guard. “Yes, I really think so Mr. Olesker, I think you will ”

That was the first alert, during recent times via unusual messages and intimations, that a book was going to come out of me.  Of course I could go back to 77 In Gujerat  India, the very first astrological encounter I ever had. It was around my 21st, when after a casual glance at my chart and hands, the Astrologer predicted I would eventually become some kind of teacher and “Write books”.

Over years this initial encounter was followed by various sooth sayers, from a variety of cultures and traditions, who suggested that in the future I would have a large positive influence, communicating my controversial ideas through various avenues, due to the indication of certain planetary configurations in my birth chart, lines and mounds on my hands, the shape of my forehead, symbols on cards etc.. I’ve had a pandit in Udipi, [South West India] throw shells onto sacred geometric designs,‘Yantras’, divining a major significance in writing what ever it is I’m apparently destined to write or express.

Isn’t it exciting all this destiny stuff, I love it.  Meeting all these extremely convinced people who can apparently foresee life happening around petty little obstacles, like the unfolding of time – Such as predicting my successful future life as a writer and communicator of ideas. It’s especially comforting when you are poor, unknown and creatively unfulfilled. There is some kind of compensatory hope that life may be not so cruel after all, that I will finally meet the challenge of destiny, the world will hear my call, fulfilling my assigned tasks and obligations, resolving all the unpleasant sticky karmic residue stuff, spring boarding finally into a glorious grand exit of epic proportions, grand hoorays, mokshas, ecstasies and enormous relief in general.

So you can imagine my joy when in the very recent past, three very different, reputable, personally recommended types of seers, in three separate  continents, confirmed the inevitable writing on the destiny wall, even to the point of reminding me that my “time is up for waiting, the future is now rapidly approaching, I should be prepared.” As a book,  is coming my way, [and yours] very shortly, courtesy of fate and destiny Inc. those extremely controversial, but apparently predictable cosmic bed fellows.

So here I am, all exited with my brand new, first ever computer, a slick black Mac book. Obviously lurking in time for me to engage with and create some kind of magic together. Here goes folks, wish me well, I hope you are patient, because it’s going to be rather a long innings,.. Life ain’t short , I’m 50 now after all..The future has finally arrived..There’s a story to be to told.

Innumerable forces;  Gods,  Grace,  Time,  Karma, Synchronicity, Family,  Locations, Education, Social environments, Friends, Musicians, Artists, Writers, Visionaries, Gurus, Teachers, Philosophers, Revolutionaries,   Criminals, Psychedelics, Spirituality from various epochs and cultures, The 60’s counter culture and countless other factors, …have all acted upon and shaped the course of my life. There are some extremely rare ingredients in my slice of the pie, some sourced from remote, practically inaccessible regions. I don’t know where I’d be without them. Probably with a bland, dry, sponge cake, rather than the exotic, rich, space cake you will hopefully relish.

Of course there is no accounting for taste and limited experience. Some of you might find it rather too exotic or hard to digest. In such an instance we advise the reader to chew slowly on the crunchy, creamy hard to digest parts, if they find it causing flatulence and indigestion. It’s always the same visiting unfamiliar territories. The terrain, climate, food and customs etc. take a little time adjusting to. But within a short while, with the help of a qualified guide, one is able to fully imbibe the experience, however extreme.  In my case the most important qualification is that I’ve been there. I regularly skive off, jump over the wall, return & tell others about my  adventures. Some of them even joining me on my escapades.

John Lennon in an obscure interview in the late 70’s identifies a particular  sociological condition that I share……  ”The artistic life is the life where the artist gets up in the morning and doesn’t go to the office, so therefore he has a lot of time to look at life.  While a lot of other people have to get on with a certain physical reality about life, and they haven’t any time to think or look at what’s going on because they are too busy doing it. Which is cool you know and if they can do it that’s fine.  Where as, the artist sits back from society and looks at it, and draws a picture of it and says, ”Hey this is what I saw today.” And when the non artist has time to look at it, sometimes they don’t like what they see. They say “ I don’t look like that.”

I don’t deny there are quite a few controversial, challenging ideas that will not appeal to every one, but what the hell.  The purpose of this story is to inform rather than pander. Even old friends often find it hard to comprehend ones ‘raison d’etre’. What to speak of family- we can appear to be intimate, yet be distant and obscure at the same time. In a sense, one purpose of this story is to let all my friends and family who think they know or understand me, but are often baffled, the opportunity to know me better. Saving me the trouble of endlessly trying to explain myself. Here’s the book, check it out, get back to me later when you’ve suffered the saga. Then we’ll have a broader range of communication, and that can’t be bad, can it?

The other most obvious reason is for myself. There’s so much inside. A lot of it, partially digested due to the amalgamation of experience,  condensed into a 50 year lump form. I need to dive in and rescue my  digestive tracts from the accumulative rich diet of life. Give myself an overhaul, sort out some of the old junk, make room for the new. There’s a lot of old stuff that I haven’t looked at for quite a while. It’s going to be a nostalgic trip down memory lane and I’m not sure what I’ll discover when I get there, or how those special memories will speak to me over the space of time. That is for me to find out and share.          I hope to bring you a story that provides meaning and purpose to the human condition, something I have strived for my whole life.