It’s difficult to ignore the shocking state of the world today. People are suffering, physically, mentally and spiritually. Evidence is the many thousands who stood by the roadside to witness the Buddhist monks’ Walk for Peace, the surge in conversions to the Catholic and Muslim religions. It should not surprise us when what I’ve called negation is gaining ground.
In a few days, I’ll be heading off to London, where, as a teenager, I was one of the Piccadilly Circus boys. I feel guilty about doing this for environmental reasons. Still, not having driven a fossil-fuel-powered vehicle nor flown for now ten years, I think the importance of this trip justifies the emissions. I would have preferred to sail to the UK, as originally planned, but the finances for a seaworthy yacht have not worked out as I expected. I need reintegration of someone I became in the backstreets of Soho, someone who saw the coincidence of negation and affirmation in men, but didn’t understand the meaning of what he saw, and for whom, and for over five decades, I have been his living oubliette. It’s time to welcome him, to rediscover him, and where better to do that than the place where he came into existence? Forged on the street, in difficult circumstances, I need his strength. The quiet time must end.
