Apotheosis

Washington, D.C.

September 22, 2011

Apotheosis 

   

  noun (plural apotheoses /-siːz/)

1 the highest point in the development of something; a culmination or climax

2 the elevation of someone to divine status

I began my pilgrimage with an end in mind.  Very often I would imagine the culmination of the journey as we plied our way across and about America.  I had promised myself that I would arrive on September 21 -- God willing -- at the Washington monument, and would take the elevator to the capstone, and that I would find a place to meditate, or reflect.  I prayed to receive a vision of some kind that I could share with others.

The capstone of a pyramid has special significance in occult lore:  it represents “the all-seeing eye of God.”  This idea is reinforced on every U.S. dollar bill.  I could think of no place in our country that would be more charged with the energy of intention than that space, knowing that our first President was a man of spiritual attainment who was very conscious about the selection of the capital city, and the key governmental sites.

In addition, Viveka and I had begun our journey on the 100th anniversary of International Women’s Day, March 8, and we fantasized about a “flash mob” impromptu performance of 100 women representing the most influential women of history dancing along the edges of the reflecting pool in front of the Lincoln memorial.

Finally, since it was the International Day of Peace, we also expected that somewhere in the city there would be some kind of meeting or demonstration or commemoration of the day, which we would be drawn into.

Well, nothing remotely like any of that happened, or was even possible.

First of all, we had learned several weeks earlier that the Washington monument had been closed due to structural damage resulting from a recent earthquake.

Second of all, the reflecting pool was being renovated.  There was only dirt and noisy excavation taking place in the pool area.

Third, we could find only one event in celebration of the International Day of Peace -- some comedians would be “Standing Up for Peace” at the Improv, a comedy club, later that night.

So we changed our plan, and arrived before dawn at the Lincoln memorial so that we could sit on the steps and have our meditation before the crowds arrived.  The Washington monument was only half-visible in the fog across the mall, and we sat sharing the space with security guards and a few dedicated runners and joggers. 

We then “did our last miles” by visiting each of the impressive memorials and monuments in the area:  The Viet Nam War, World War II, The Washington Monument, The Korean Conflict, The Franklin Delano Roosevelt memorial, and the newest one, for Martin Luther King, Jr., which will be inaugurated in October of this year. 

I knew my journey was complete when I saw a black woman in her 60s standing in front of one of the memorable quotations by Dr. King which adorn this impressive memorial, built to express both a mountain of despair and the emergence of hope.  

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that.  

Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.”

I could tell that she was on the verge of tears, as was I.  My heart went out to her and we hugged each other, complete strangers, soul sisters.  

“Martin wouldn’t want me to cry,” she said.

“I’m not so sure,” I said.  “You won’t mind if I do, will you?”  We cried together.

I told her that I had just completed my walk “across and about” America for the last 6 1/2 months.  Some people overheard me, and soon there was a crowd gathered around.  These were people, I soon learned, all in their 60s and 70s who had all lived through the struggle for civil rights, like myself, and felt defined by that era.  There was a man who had walked with Dr. King in Selma.  There were interfaith people there, people who had been at the Parliament of World Religions in Capetown and Barcelona.  I had been in Barcelona and Melbourne as well.  We all started singing and celebrating and taking pictures.   “We Shall Overcome . . .”

Yes, we even sang “Kumba-ya!”

I couldn’t have planned a more touching or fulfilling “Victory Lap.”  Somehow it felt as though all my friends had showed up!

*   *   *

What I had expected, planned and envisioned as a culmination was not what I got.  Even later that night at the Improv, where we expected to at least see comedians “Standing Up for Peace,” there was no such program!  But I will say this:

Later that afternoon in the garden of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, where we stopped to rest and have a cup of tea, I did receive a vision.  I am not quite sure I can share it with you in this forum, or if it is appropriate, but I was left with the distinct knowledge and assurance that everything unfolded and is unfolding exactly as it should, and in the great scheme of things, all is well!