The Twelfth Insight - James Redfield [10]
I thought of the writings of Dr. Russell Blaylock, who talks about why dangerous additives still remain in our food, then realized something in a flash: this skeptic I’m talking to is an idealist.
Something else came into my mind to say, and I recalled Wil stressing that such ideas had to be voiced.
“Look,” I stated, “maybe the key is heightening public awareness of the scientific process, and then applying it to every part of our world. What if this document is right about Synchronicity being a part of the natural order of things? Shouldn’t it be investigated with the same vigor as a star or bacteria?”
Something about what I said irritated him, and he took the gas nozzle out of his car and slammed it back in its place at the pump.
“W-w-what I’m saying,” he stammered, “is that something like this document can’t be trusted. Synchronicity is too subjective. The problem with Science now is that the emphasis on basic truth is being lost. Once we start allowing too much speculation or corruption, the culture can slip into fantasy thinking and even delusionary movements.”
He was looking at me hard. “Don’t you see that civilization is hanging by a thread? It only takes so many people losing a grip on the basic laws of nature to undermine logical thinking and scientifically established reality altogether. And if that happens we fall back into superstition and a new dark age.”
I nodded and said, “But what if a science of spirituality could be logical and orderly?”
He didn’t answer. Instead he shook his head and walked into the building to pay. Wil was still seated behind the wheel and smiling at me. He had heard the entire conversation through the open car window.
“Aren’t you going to get into this?” I asked.
“Nope,” he said. “I think it’s yours to finish.”
When the scientist came out of the building, I approached him again.
“Look,” I said, “you’re right. No one wants a new dark age. But let me pose the issue in another way: what would it take for scientists like you to be able to study spiritual phenomena in a way that is orderly and logical?”
For a long moment he seemed to be genuinely considering my question. “I don’t know …. We would have to discover something like the natural laws of spirituality—”
He stopped and shook his head, then waved me off.
“Listen,” he said. “I really don’t have time for any more speculation. Believe me, none of this is going to happen.”
I nodded and then introduced myself. He shook my hand and said his name was Dr. John Coleman.
“Enjoyed the conversation,” I said. “Maybe I’ll see you another time.”
He chuckled at that and then said, “The woman you were asking about … her name is Rachel Banks. She was going to a town north of Phoenix, a little place called Sedona.”
I sat up straight in the passenger seat, struggling to wake up. As we drove along, sunlight from behind us was just beginning to fill the car, and the sweet smell of Oklahoma farmland filled my nostrils. Wil nodded when he saw me stirring, then immediately looked back at the road, appearing to be deep in thought.
Which was fine with me; I was talked out. Because we both knew Sedona well, Wil and I had conversed late into the night as we traveled west. For years, the town had been a hotbed of spiritual thought, as it was situated in the famous red rock hills of Native American lore. Because the energy was so strong there, it was claimed by some that the town had more houses of worship, new age centers, and artists per square mile than any place in America.
The question that had most intrigued us last night concerned Rachel’s motivations. Why were her intuitions pointing to Sedona? Was it because one would likely find more people talking about such writings there? Or was it because one could understand esoteric information in general at a deeper level just by being in those hills—the famous “Sedona effect”?
I shook off the thoughts. All I wanted to do at this point was look out at the landscape. We had traveled from the mountains of Georgia and Tennessee to the flatlands of Oklahoma, and now the