Blown Into Consciousness

 (Part VII)
 


Some of you are probably wondering about my story since it seems so out of character in comparison to the rest of the Light Messenger... or is it? My story could be your story because it represents the struggles of one individual in his search for truth and understanding. Blown into Consciousness has been a very literal experience for me. When I tripped on that land mine back in Vietnam, I lost nearly 50% of the muscles in my legs and was told I would never walk again without aid. My life took a complete turn... and that experience was the catalyst that projected me into a whole new world of philosophy and experience. I didn't lose anything, except perhaps a way of life that was leading down a dead end street, but I gained a hell of a lot!

Being asked to help in the writing of the Light Messenger and to write my own story, has left me with mixed emotions of feeling honored and at the same time, internally frustrated. For someone who never wrote home while he was away at Camp or in the Army, writing does not come easy. The thoughts are clear pictures in my mind, but translating them into words is difficult. When it's time to hand over my article for publication, it always seems very incoherent to me, but somehow Peggy manages to weave it all together to come up with exactly what I wanted to say. Recently I learned that she was my "karmic sister" so perhaps that is why she can understand my thoughts and fit in the details that I forget. I still feel frustrated because I haven't been able to do it myself, but I suppose there's a lesson in that for me too.

At this point, I will try to tie some of the loose ends together that I left dangling in past episodes. Shifting back to Vietnam and the title of my story, which incidentally was coined by Richard, I remember my first night in a combat maneuver. I was scared stiff and I prayed fervently to God, providing there was a God (I wasn't really sure), to get me out of that situation! Three months later, I was evacuated after having been severely wounded, and I forgot all about my prayer. In fact I didn't remember it until eight years later when David brought it back into my awareness. It seems I made a bargain with God that night and I told him that I would do anything if he would just get me out of there. Now, I find myself having to deal with that agreement that I made so long ago I forgot, but my Higher Self remembered and held me accountable.

Remember the Vietnamese Monk that I mentioned at the beginning of my story? Well, surprisingly enough, he turned up once again in my life. Only this time it was in the Rebeck's living room. One night David casually announced that the Monk had made his transition and was standing behind me. "He feels he owes you a debt", David said. A debt? I couldn't even imagine what he was talking about. I had not even known his name, why should he owe me a debt? I considered David's words for a long time until it finally dawned on me. When we were in Nam, some of my buddies wanted to "rip off" the Monk's Temple, but I had interfered to stop them. Apparently that was the debt, although in my mind that was a very natural thing to do and didn't require payment. I've had other questions about the Monk since then. Why did he make such an effort to see me in Vietnam and why did I respond? And why did he invite only me to his Temple instead of the other guys? Perhaps some day I will know these answers, but for now I am left to wonder.

Anyway, I've got some great news to report... you're all invited to my wedding! After many years of waiting, one of my fondest dreams has been realized. I've found my love (Lillian Hemmer), and we are getting married. The ceremony will take place June 2, 1979, at The Sanctuary in Inverness. We will join our hearts by standing together in the very center of the new Color Symbol at exactly 3:25 PM, the moment our favorite Astrologer deemed appropriate. I'm almost 36 years old and this is the first time I've made a legal commitment. I'm scared you know what!

Sal Cacciola

Part VIII
Part IX

© 1979

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