In the hippie circles where I lived immediately after graduating from college, I remember visiting one couple’s apartment on the second floor of a former Victorian carriage house, not that it was in any way chic. They had one room that had benches or modest pews around the four walls, something I now see as resembling a Quaker meetinghouse interior.
Their reason was the small group they welcomed to study the works of Armenian mystic George Gurdjeff (c 1867-1949). He’s best known for his book, Meetings with Remarkable Men, published in 1963, describing his visits in remote mountains and deserts mostly, places he paid homage to eccentric and often aged holy men of varied stipes.
Looking back at my own life and people I’ve met, though, I’m not sure his were any more exceptional than many I’ve known. Maybe they were just a bit more eccentric.
It’s a thread running through most of my work, actually.
In my relocations around the country, I’ve lost touch with 99 percent of them, but do wonder how the rest of their lives unfolded.
Here’s a sampling.
- High school classmates and other youths from our church.
- Fellow commuters and faculty from the new Wright State University.
- The other residents in my two dorms in Indiana, especially the ones who show up in Daffodil Uprising.
- The other residents of the hippie farm in New York’s Southern Tier or my Hawley Street digs in town. See Pit-a-Pat High Jinks.
- The yogis of the ashram and those who came as guests. (Yoga Bootcamp.)
- Ex-lovers over the years. (Blue Rock, Braided Double-Cross, Long-Stem Roses in a Shattered Mirror.)
- Colleagues from the public policy research institute at Indiana University. One of the leaders did go on to win the Nobel Prize in economics. As for the others?
- Fellow poets and writers along my way.
- Fellow journalists and other newspaper workers. I’ve come across a few and read of others, but mostly they, too, have faded from sight. Eight papers in all. (Hometown News.)
- Quakers I’ve experienced in nine yearly meetings.
- The staff as the media syndicate where I worked, plus newspaper editors in 14 states, back when I lived in Baltimore.
- Mennonites and Brethren in Maryland.
- Neighbors around the Jacuzzi at Yuppieville on the Hill, Granite State.
- New England Contradancers in Greater Boston and across New Hampshire and southern Maine.
- Greek Orthodox in Dover. (What’s Left.)
- Voices in Revels Singers in Watertown outside Boston.
Trying to trace down even a few of them has been frustrating. Some have shown up in news reports that led me to them, fleetingly. Many of the women have taken their husband’s surname, which becomes a barrier. Facebook has led to some from my high school years, but beyond that I am surprised by the number of “friends” who are inactive at their profiles or other folks who have no online presence at all. And then there are ones I’ve come across at Find-a-Grave.
It’s been quite a cast in my zig-zag journey to here.
By and large, though, I’m seeing how short we’ve come in regard to the lofty goals we once professed. My heroes, especially.
~*~
That said, you can find the novels they inspired in the digital platform of your choice at Smashwords, the Apple Store, Barnes & Noble’s Nook, Scribd, Sony’s Kobo, and other fine ebook retailers. They’re also available in paper and Kindle at Amazon, or you can ask your local library to obtain them.
Jnana's Red Barn 