As much as I had struggled against the thoughts of Him, as much as I fought it; I still love that first intensity of that primal experience of the unfamiliar Peace and Love.
This story begins with a Holy Man covered with facial hair, causing me to take notice of His unguarded brown eyes.
I dream I was living in those eyes because downtown Palo Alto has become too jaded and cold that His eyes were the only places left to live. It was perfect, actually. He is tall, sovereign and you can see the world in a different perspective, with a pure view of the tasks, the people, the places. The advantage of living in His eyes was the spark of my imagination, exploring the viewpoint from this perfect place –anything is possible.
You fall for people like you fall for places. It is unexplainable. It is irrational, yet you fall. Hard! How you pull through and reinvent yourself allow you to move in time and space as the places, the moments, the Face become rooted in you forever –my personal savior.
Yes, His eyes make me feel like I live with intimacy even when I was starving and couldn’t locate myself. Eventually, I had to leave. The ambiguity of my departure is the reason He still lingers on my fingertip, evoking this thread of writing.