Walking Between Two Worlds

It was a perfect summer day for a walk on the beach.

Laughing and catching up on past times, the years apart collapsing on themselves as we talked.

My friend was back from the West coast and I was overjoyed to see him.

We go back together to high school, and by all accounts our paths should have never crossed. I wasn’t part of the sports guys, not involved in the drama club, or even very popular, spending most of my time in the school library reading books on history and science fiction.

He was the opposite in all ways.

A metalhead, ripped jeans and leather jacket person who loved poking and getting a reaction out of people.

We were passing in the halls in-between classes when he saw a book I was carrying: Dune and responded with a quote from the book:

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer…

Which to his surprise, I was able to complete.

In that moment, our friendship was sealed.

Some of my other friends expressed their concerns about him, and when both circles of friends crossed, quite a few didn’t want him there.

We appeared as quite the odd couple.

What they missed was past the clothes and music t-shirts he was quite smart, quick thinking, and very charismatic.

Anytime either of us wanted something, he was able to talk his way into getting it.

When friends would ask why we hung out, they didn’t understand.

When college came around we went our separate ways, with a promise to stay in touch and get together again if anything interesting happened.

And with that he left for the West coast to study acting.

The years went by, with studying leads to practice, and practice leading to mastery. I would think about him from time to time, wondering what adventures he was up to, as I had my own adventures.

When the phone rang I immediately knew who it was.

A familiar voice hoping this was still Roppo Doji’s number.

That Friday I found myself driving out to a party for him and some of his friends who had also moved from the West coast to the city.

When he opened the door, and smiled, we were back.

I spent most of the night hanging out with some of his friends, as he was busy greeting and reconnecting with the other guests.

The fast talking, the charisma, I could see he hadn’t changed.

His friends from the West coast were interesting.

Two of the guys were more interesting in talking about computers, and once I let on that I had a similar interest I couldn’t get away from them. His other friends, she was more interesting, and from her I was able to connect and find out more about the past few years.

Acting hadn’t quite worked out like my friend had intended, and while he landed a few roles, it wasn’t the direction he wanted to take his life in. One thing led to another, and he connected with the three of them, and that is when the idea for a new startup took off.

It was odd hearing another person talking about my friend, knowing more about him than me.

Were they together?

Together?

No.

Just friends.

Good friends.

When the conversation turned to me, she was a bit surprised as I wasn’t quite what she expected from what he told her.

I had to laugh.

I still had a love for reading and science fiction, but it had been more than a few years since we left high school. The party went late into the night, and at a certain point it was just easier to crash on the couch, but I didn’t get any sleep when she sat down on the floor and we talked into the morning.

The next day while breakfast was being made he invited me for a walk on the beach, apologetic that we didn’t spend enough time last night catching up.

What had I been up?

What new adventures?

What new books have I been reading?

The questions were genuine, but there was something behind them beyond just catching up.

Budo?

He was amused at that, never took me for one to follow a martial path, that I would be following an Eastern path of enlightenment when there was one right here in the West.

I playfully reminded him that it wasn’t high school anymore.

What did I think about his friends from California?

Honestly.

The two guys were smart.

Smarter than me, and could certainly code better than me.

Beth?

She was great, we had a lot of fun talking the whole night.

Not what I would have expected from somebody from California.

There was a moment of silence in mentioning Beth, before he changed the subject.

Was I ready for a new adventure?

One like we always talked about in high school in-between debating our science fiction books?

He told me about his time as an actor, it was different from what Beth had told me, but what did match up is that they become friends though it. He was there to be an actor, they were there to learn how to act, how to perform sacred dramas.

That this led to a chance to be a part of another group, a group that explored a particular philosophy and science.

A group that all four of them were a part of.

A science to expand the mind and to become more than Human, to pursue that nobility through myth and ancient rites drawn from antiquity.

Could I Imagine the adventures we would have standing side by side as brothers?

I let the silence sit for a moment, and in that space I could see my friend was unsure, something that he had not felt in some time.

I broke the silence with a smile and a familiar quote:

A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care.

I had been alone in the room for some time.

How long?

At least half an hour from when I started counting.

While it was true that I could leave at any time, and that if I did leave, nobody would think less of me.

D. would still be my friend.

Beth and I could still hang out.

I’d still get invited to the parties

I had not seen it yet, but once I did, that changes everything.

When enough time had passed that they were sure I was going to go through with it, the door to the room opened and I was led down the hallway.

D. had prepared me as best he could.

Sharing key points of the ceremony so I would know where to stand and when prompted what to say,

I was led to a set of closed red doors, guarded by one of the men I recognized from the party last month.

Holding a sword in his hand we didn’t make eye contact.

One last chance before those doors open.

Blindfolded, the doors opened and I was led into the room.

The room was big even if I couldn’t see it. It has the quality of stone and the floor was hard.

The scent of something burning and sweet filled the air, as I tried to listen for any cues.

Silence, except for the background hum of the vehicles passing on the nearby highway.

A commanding voice called out in Classical Greek, which turned out to be the first and only time I’ve used the language since college.

was starting.

People moved around me.

Two at first, that scent filling the air again, followed by the footsteps of half a dozen or more people walking around me.

I was reminded at what D. had told me, to just stand where I was prompted to stand and not to move no matter what.

Something was happening regardless if you could feel it or not, and it needed to be precise, or the coming ceremonies would not take hold.

Two hands touched my shoulders, and I was prompted to take three steps forward and kneel.

Kneeling I could sense that there were three people next to me, one to my right and left, and one before me.

They were having a conversation in a slow and soft tone, made difficult to hear by the blindfold around my eyes and covering my ears.

Suddenly there was a round of applause, and the blindfold was removed from my eyes, adjusting to the darkness of the room in that moment.

I was kneeling before two wooden pillars that reached to the ceiling, the room filled with a dozen or so people.

D. was there to my right in black ceremonial regalia, a charismatic smile on his face.

Beth was to my front, dressed in white regalia, her gaze glazed over me.

D. was acting a part.

Beth was embodying it.

Commanded to rise, I took my place in the group.

It was like we were back in high school, talking about the cool things, making plans, and mapping out new adventures, only this time we shared a common axis point.

During the week D. and I would get together to study the ceremonies, and every weekend there would be a party at a new undiscovered places in the city where you could meet interesting people.

Artists, musicians, writers, and poets.

D. was in his element at these gatherings, holding court, while I tended to mingle around before finding a quiet place for the evening.

Often, I’d bump into Beth seeking a similar refuge among the works or art, books, and architecture of the venue.

It became a ritual to admire the works of art or imagine the content of enclosed in those books as she spoke to me in Latin.

Understanding only bits and pieces of it, I returned the favor by speaking back to her in classical Greek.

Having gone enough ahead of me D. had prepared me for the coming examinations, a requirement before one could be raised to the next grade in the group. As my tutor, he was permitted to sit on the panel as I answered any questions regarding the studies.

I surprised both the panel and my D. with my responses.

Beth who also sat on the examination panel later caught up to me with some questions. Clearly, I knew the material, but I should have scored higher, she was wondering if there was a conflict somewhere.

If there was, I could have another tutor assigned.

It wasn’t that.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care, it was that I was being asked to walk between two worlds.

I explained to her that I had spent the past few years learning how to move without thinking, and now I was being required to think about moving.

She asked why I felt that way?

Was that how I was being taught by my tutor?

Was I not using discernment in the ceremonies to see who wanted to be there, and who was really there?

Who was captured by the movement, and who was captured by the feeling.

She must have seen me smiling, as I wasn’t even aware of it.

I told her that she reminded me of another woman I once knew who tried to show me that.

Her response was a similar smile, and that its woman who always initiates man.

It was a big leap regarding the upcoming ceremonies.

The timeline was short in terms of a suitable replacement, and I was tasked with standing in as a replacement for the officer.

Was it a test or was it just necessity in the moment?

Either way, I was expected to be ready in two weeks, and this was the first time that I would stand in equal footing with D. in the ceremony.

Was I reading into something as he tutored me on what would be expected of me?

I didn’t think so when he cut our session short and announced he had to leave.

He was meeting Beth for lunch.

With a few days to go, it was customary to visit one of the museums in the city and to walk among the antiquities.

I found Beth in the Hall of Egypt and it was her that suggested we walk the museum for a bit when I tried to excuse myself figuring she would prefer the time alone. Among those statues and golden artifacts, she was in her element, in her world.

She asked me why I stepped through those red doors that day.

What was I here for?

My silence confirmed it wasn’t for the sacred drama or the work.

Was it for my friend?

The one I idealized?

Or the one that was now here years later?

She could see my presence shift and my posture change when we entered the next exhibition hall.

We were now in my element, in my world and I could feel she was uncomfortable among the swords and suits of armor.

Was there a difference between the two I asked?

Everyone was excited for the day of the ceremony, an auspicious day to mark the arrival of the Equinox.

Taking our places on the floor, the focus of the room began to shift and that normal release of tension as something is about tom start didn’t happen.

Looking around many of the officers on the floor seemed distracted.

D. wasn’t smiling and even Beth seemed apprehensive.

That is when I saw him, an unfamiliar figure sitting on the dais.

His posture perfect, his command of the scepter perfect, all eyes secretly on him, he was important.

As we checked our regalia one last time to make sure everything was perfect, that was when D. whispered to me that he was an important guest, somebody who could make or break you in the group.

The opening of the ceremony went off flawlessly.

Picture perfect.

Next was the procession.

D.’s role was to lead it and he circled around the two pillars in the room, followed by each of us joining him one at a time after each turn.

It required exacting precision one each of our parts, but with D. in the lead, he controlled the pace and the tempo.

One by one we fell into line, and that is when a subtle shift began to happen.

D. wasn’t able to keep the tempo.

It became obvious when the guest on the dais, broke form for a moment and turned his head slightly to make eye contact with D.

Beth tried to help by slowing the movement of those behind her, but that only made it more awkward and obvious.

It was about to fail.

D.’s acting couldn’t adapt enough.

As the procession crossed the pillars for the last time and I was approaching the guest on the dais, I stepped slightly off the line and dropped it.

The chalice I was holding hit the ground and spilled all the water over the checkered floor.

I was admiring one of the katana in the museum.

The perfect curve of its blade, the symmetry of its point, and how it was in line with the curve.

It as the silence that made it beautiful.

Beth had agreed to meet me on behalf of the group as they wanted an answer.

Standing next to me she tried to admire the sword as there was nothing for us to talk about.

She knew my decision; she just wanted to see it on my face and in my eyes.

She just acknowledged what I had already decided:

You were never going to stay.

You are not here for the work.

And you are not here for me.

You are here because you never learned how to leave him.