The Twelfth Insight - James Redfield [36]
I realized then that Rachel must have developed a friendship with this woman with the Uzi. In fact, Rachel seemed to have a Connection with both Hira and Adjar. After she was sure he wasn’t coming back, Rachel leaned over again, still searching for my eyes.
“There’s one last thing in the Fourth,” she said. “All of us must admit that we can’t marshal enough influence on our own to stand up to such people. It says we have to break through to a larger part of ourselves … and find our ‘protection.’”
THE GOD CONNECTION
I sat alone, staring at the dying fire. The well-dressed Arab man, Adjar, had returned and talked for a long time with Rachel as they gathered up the copies of the Document.
Afterward, he supervised as I erected my tent, then escorted Rachel to her own tent, leaving me alone except for Hira, our guard, and three extremists who were sitting together on the far side of the camp. Occasionally, the men would burst into muted laughter as they smoked cigarettes and took turns drinking from a bottle of wine.
My mind was spinning over the situation. My energy had crashed, and I had no idea what to do. I thought momentarily of the Document’s idea of finding Protection but found no help. Whatever was intended by that word would remain a mystery until something happened in my experience to give it meaning. Until then it was just one more abstract term.
Looking again at Hira, I figured I could make a run for it and perhaps get away, but that move would leave Rachel here alone, and I wasn’t going to abandon her. Hira looked around suddenly and stared hard at me, and when our eyes met, her look shifted into something akin to curiosity or inquisitiveness, but only for an instant.
Something in her look made me feel better, and I thought about trying to speak with her but decided against it. The day had been long, and in spite of the fear, an irresistible fatigue was descending on me. For a few minutes I looked out into the night and tried to conjure up an expectation of Synchronicity. Then I crawled into my tent, literally unable to stay conscious. Where was Wil? I wondered. And Coleman?
I was awakened by the muffled sound of conversation outside my tent. At first, I thought I was dreaming, but then I heard Rachel’s voice distinctly. I glanced at my watch. It was an hour before dawn.
“Don’t you see?” she said in a loud whisper. “We have to figure out how to bridge our differences.”
I peaked through the tent flap and could see Rachel outside by the fire. Adjar was sitting across from her. The rest of the camp was dark and silent. Hira was no longer on the rock.
Rachael was pressing. “Spirituality cannot be forced. People must discover it for themselves.”
He was shaking his head. “What we believe is that culture must be shaped and kept spiritual. The spiritual rules must be maintained by those in charge. Otherwise, our people would be spoiled and lazy. Look at the indecency and degradation of your movies and music. And you hold up your corrupt politics as something to be proud of?”
“Look,” she argued, “I don’t like parts of our culture, either. But freedom is important, for men and women. What if the Document is correct? You understand what it says. You’ve experienced the Alignment. What if people everywhere could learn to practice a spirituality that establishes the discipline you speak of, but is voluntary and engaged in because of the thrill of the experience?”
Suddenly, Hira returned with an alarmed look and began speaking to Rachel in Hebrew. Adjar looked as though he wanted to strike her, but he turned and walked a few paces away in disgust.
I pushed through the tent flap then and startled them all. Rachel shot me a look of grave concern and walked over to Adjar.
“Some of the others have opened up to Hira,” Rachel whispered to Adjar.