Leaving Lucifer

One of the many brilliant experiences we were all privileged to have was in the town of Herat, Afghanistan. I’d been hearing about it for some time now. Brian had been going on and on about Herat long before we had reached Afghanistan. It clearly held a special place in his heart. He described the pine trees that lined the main roadways that went in and out of Herat; telling us that an earlier ruler had the forethought to bring in the large pine trees and had developed the area as a true oasis in the stark desert. He considered it one of the most beautiful cities of the East with mosques of stunning spiritual significance.

“Wait till you see the mosque.” He had been telling us about an incredibly beautiful mosque that was situated in the center of the old town proper.

As we entered the city via the main roadway I took notice of how the ancient pine trees provided heavenly shade along the smoothly paved road It was a quiet town (still Ramadan, I think), very peaceful and clean.

We made our way into the center of the city and found the Blue Mosque. First the men got out and went into the mosque. After they returned, I threw Margaret’s coat over my head for a makeshift head cover and went in alone to the central area or what seemed to be the courtyard. The walls and floor; every inch of space was covered with vibrant blues on white ceramic tiles. The blue design was an intricate weaving of geometric patterns. There was gold Arabic writing higher up on the walls on bigger tiles but the brilliant patterns of blue on white dominated my vision.

I tried to take in as much as I could as I stood there in the center of the courtyard. I was overwhelmed with the awareness of the Divine. I said a prayer but felt that my words/thoughts were inadequate so rather than fumble with what I could not even attempt to venerate properly, I stood silently in the center. Gazing upward to the turquoise spires and brilliant blue sky I felt tremendously small as though being a tiny dot in the infinite universe. The colors were so rich in heavenly hues that they seemed to lift my spirits and defy gravity. I turned and walked back to the waiting autos.

“Didn’t I tell you? Didn’t I tell you?” asked Brian as I got in the van.

I nodded without speaking.

He was excited to have shared this with us and I was once again moved to silence and wanted to remain there -- in that peaceful zone for as long as I could – keeping the moment alive and active in my spiritual center; silence being ever so important.

Then, off we went out of Herat and into the desert. Time waits for no man and neither would Bhante.