I'm no expert on life and
Reality, that's for sure. But after thirty some-odd years, a girl
can't help but notice obvious patterns and you sort of know what can
be expected from your life.
Sometimes, however, things
happen that are just so ... well ... so unexpected that the only way
their occurrence can be explained is that some kind of reality shift
must have taken place, and suddenly all the rules are changed.
That's what happened to
me on August 16, 1996. There's just no other way to explain it.
Now you might not think
the email I received was that big a deal, particularly in my line
of work as an activist, with twenty years under her belt, turned administrator
for one of the world's largest environmental organizations. But at
the time it was a monumental shift in my understanding of the world.
I'd started out early
in life as a girl burning with a passion to change the world. I was
haunted by a vision of a simpler, happier more beautiful world that
had visited my dreams for as long as I could remember.
I remember quite clearly
my rude awakening when I first discovered life just wasn't that way.
But they couldn't keep me down. I honestly believed that it would
be possible to change the world so that it more clearly resembled
the vision of peace on earth I'd so clearly envisioned.
A lot of girls I knew
growing up set their sites on simpler goals -- finding Mr. Right and
building the perfect little cozy life, with a perfect set of kids
and a secure future. But, during my late teens and early twenties,
that passion to create a better world was all consuming. I didn't
have time for anything else. By my thirties, my dream was all but
shattered, but I never thought of "settling" for this world.
Well, truth be told, my
goal did settle on somehow forcing myself to try and set my sites
on feeling some sense of pride and accomplishments for the little,
and I mean little victories that I could achieve to help make the
world a little better.
That's what seemed to
work for the best of the do-gooders I'd come across. Over the years
I'd met many people who wanted to make life better, but no one that
I'd ever met allowed themselves to think that a real CHANGE was possible.
They found joy and satisfaction in reaching one person; in making
one tiny step forward on the local level. And that gave them the strength
to live boring, plain and ordinary lives. I knew that that's what
I needed to think. How I wished I could make myself think that way.
Sometimes I was able to
change my perspective, and I felt good for the little things I was
able to help happen, but most of the time I was filled with a deep,
aching disappointment, because I knew that LIFE would never be the
way I'd imagined it could be. It would never be the Peacetopia I had
dreamed so clearly.
That's the frame of mind
I was in when I received that email.
There wasn't much in the
email, really, but somehow it touched me and stirred all the passion
again.
I should mention that
just a month before then I'd suddenly realized that a new millennium
was rapidly approaching. For some reason, it had never occurred to
me before. I can't say why. 2001, A Space Odyssey was just
some distant future. It never came together in my head that it represented
a whole new era in human existence at the dawn of a new millennium.
There I was in 1996, suddenly consumed in hope again. I saw the New
Millennium was the perfect opportunity for the world to decide
to create a brand new. I started writing, pouring out the thoughts
that had haunted and inspired me all my life. I spent every waking
moment hiding in my office, hiding in my room, pouring out my dreams.
Three weeks later I'd
finished THE PEACE ON EARTH MILLENNIUM: A GUIDE FOR THE PEACE ON EARTH
MOVEMENT, and it was inspiring. It would awaken that universal desire
that I knew was hiding in every heart I'd ever seen when they let
their guards down; when they dared to dream. I knew everyone wished
for peace on earth, deep down inside. Even the darkest, most lost
souls, deep down, were only longing to be loved. Even the most cynical,
destroyed life only because they'd given up hope that life would ever
be fair and just and good.
A week before the fateful
email arrived I'd sent out my own email to every do-gooder I'd ever
known or could hunt up an email address for. I sent them an excerpt
from my treatise for a better world, inviting them to read the whole
book on my website. I felt for certain that my book would incite a
global movement to seize the opportunity of the approaching millennium.
We would change the world together! For the first time in so long
I believed once again that it was possible to change the WHOLE WORLD.
Over the next few days
I received a splattering of polite encouragement, but it was obvious
that my vision wasn't resonating with anyone.
But that one email on
August 16, it was different from the others. Or at least it's exactly
what I needed to hear that night. I was having one of those urgent
moments when I just needed SOMETHING to happen or I'd just explode
in disappointment.
"Bravo, Regina. Your
vision is exactly our vision. We believe that togther we can create
a more peaceful, just and sustainable world, one day at a time, too.
That is our goal. We would be honored to have you join our Peacetopian
community. Peace on earth is coming, with your help...
-- Roger Singer
Executive Director
People For Peace, Weimar, Arizona"
Roger Singer! Now that
was a name that stirred memories. I heard Dr. Singer speak at a symposium
years ago. Actually I was in college at the time, and I'd found his
vision of a better world compelling, although a little too New-Agey
for me. He was a middle-aged man at the time -- at least twice my
age -- but he was so charismatic that I'd had a school-girl crush
on him. Of course I didn't pursue it back then. But over the years,
his name came up quite a few times, and I always imagined our paths
would eventually cross. He must be an old man now I sighed, remembering
my school-girl crush and realizing no one I'd ever met since then
really stirred me as much as he had inspired that naive college student.
Of course I remembered
that the people who'd brought his name up were always snickering and
using words like "cult" and "crazy." And yet all I could see was a
memory of his eyes staring at me, from when I was twenty; eyes filled
with passion and compassion. All I could think about now was that
there was a whole community of people who were trying to create the
world I once upon a time believed could come to be. I quit my job
the very next day, packed everything I cared to keep into my car and
headed west for Weimar, Arizona, never once looking back.
I wasn't disappointed
when I got there. Dr. Singer was much older looking than I would have
extrapolated, but when he greeted me with open arms, it was as if
I were coming home to an old and trusted friend. Gazing in his eyes,
I felt transported to another place and another time, when we had
always been together.
It was only an instant,
but I remembered a whole lifetime; a lifetime of lifetimes, even.
I wasn't Regina Drayer there. I was boy named Ward, and Dr. Singer
was my dear friend the Duke, to whom I had pledged a gift I had been
carrying for all time. Or was he Maya, my guiding angel. Or was I
Captain Rogetto, and he my trusted servant Melnor. Or...
Roger hugged me tightly.
"I'm so glad you've come Regina. We're all glad that you're here,
NOW."
And as they helped me
carry my few bags inside, they each gazed into my eyes and hugged
me warmly and deeply and my old life seemed further and further away.
For the first time in my life, I knew I belonged somewhere.
The cynics would scoff
that I'd joined a cult, I'm sure, but the next six months were the
most joyous I'd ever experienced. Perhaps I did relinquish my old
life and the things that I'd once possessed, but I received so much
in return. I was truly part of an amazing community of like-minded
dreamers, who dared to try to make that dream come true.
We worked side by side,
about thirty of us in this close-knit community, doing daily living
chores in addition to the work that each of us had been meant to do.
No longer were our talents wasted on redtape and paperwork. Our lives
were focused on helping to create a bridge to the Peace On Earth Millennium.
Of course we were each very different, with different experiences
and different hopes. But we shared a common dream of a better world
for all. We were artists and writers and musicians, and orators and
film-makers and craftsmen. Together we were stoking the fires of our
peace factory, creating the inspirations and tools to spread our message
of peace. And since the world would celebrate the dawn of a New Millennium
on January 1, 2000, we could transform that spirit of celebration
into a realization that peace on earth is possible, one day at a time,
if we only try to make it so.
It was amazing how everything
had come together, and in twelve short months, mostly through the
Internet, we'd created a worldwide network of more than 1000 organizations
in 125 nations. More than a million people had heard our message and
had pledged their support to try to make their lives more peaceful.
Our Peace Factory sold dozens of CDs of music about peace on earth,
films and hundreds of books all of which helped to inspire more artists
to create works for peace, and empower people with the hope and courage
to live more peaceful lives.
Every morning I'd wake
up so glad to be alive. So happy to be part of this "family"
of peacemaking dreamers. And I'd stare in disbelief for a moment as
we sat together at breakfast, sharing a moment of silence. How could
it all seem to have fallen into place in the blinking of an eye, when
for thirty years it had seemed I was lost in a world I could never
fit into?
Then one rainy day, it
crumbled as quickly as it had come. In truth, it had been getting
harder to convince people that peace on earth was possible. It was
getting hard to convince them that "peace" was something they wanted.
"We're not at war, why should I want peace!" some would say. Or "I
don't want peace, I want justice!" Or "dream on, the world's a heartless
place." Or they'd argue that January 1, 2000 wasn't the start of a
new millennium. It was January 1, 2001, and they'd become completely
sidetracked from the whole point.
Out of the blue, people
seemed to be talking about Y2K more and more. It seemed to cast a
spell over the world, making everyone feel that the future was uncertain
and they had to concentrate on their lives right now because life
was hard enough without having to worry about the future, too.
The next three years were
a blur. Actually, the rest of my life is a blur. I remember that exact
moment the next reality shift happened. We were sitting around a campfire
one evening, singing songs together as we often did. Roger was sitting
next to me. I'd been in Weimar for about a year and a half. We'd been
lovers for the past few months. Every time I looked in his eyes I
felt whole, but I was always hesitant to gaze deeply, afraid that
I would see too much. I was holding his hand then, singing in harmony
with my friends, but shaking for I was afraid to look in Roger's eyes;
I could feel a change coming and I knew that I would see it in his
eyes.
My gaze went around the
circle and rested in Roger's eyes. I saw the rest of my life in an
instant. From an objective viewpoint, I'm sure an observer would say
it was a good life, all in all. January 1, 2000 would come and go.
Although our campaign would touch and inspire many to create more
peaceful lives for themselves and their families and their communities,
we would not change the world. Not really. Y2K fears would cause most
of the celebrations and excitement our message generated to become
subdued or canceled. The media wouldn't pay us any attention. Would
Y2K materialize and destroy the fabric of our world as many had feared?
No. In fact, it would never happen. Later, no one would even explore
how the world could have been convinced to expend so much energy worrying;
how companies would spend so much money feverishly working to deactivate
the Y2K bug, when nothing at all would happen.
The world would celebrate
peacefully for that day on January 1, 2000, but no one would notice
really. The world wouldn't use it as the opportunity to start anew
as we'd imagined it could be. Life would pretty much go on as it had
in the previous millennium. Our little community would dissolve. We'd
have treasured friendships and lessons to bring with us through our
lives. I'd eventually settle down. Not with Roger, but with someone
who made me feel like I belonged. I'd have a family, and we would
be happy, more or less. I'd continue to touch lives, a little here,
a little there. Life would go on, and I would live it contentedly,
and not really feel at all that I'd 'settled' for life.
But there in that one
eternal moment sitting around the campfire, gazing into Roger's eyes,
I turned away from the path that would lead me to my future. As if
turning my life sideways, for that moment, I slipped into the place
inbetween the here and Now and the moments yet to come. There in the
place InBetween, I saw that there were many possible paths I could
travel and I knew that I could now decide which one to take. There
was one that seemed to call to me, and smiling, I followed the angelic
whispers without looking back.
