Overview

• Short Story: Trip in Jerusalem
• Exposition
• Opening incident
• Rising action
• Climax
• Falling action
• Resolution

I remember, oh so vividly, him holding out his hand, the tiny dot pulsating in his palm. “Well, here it is. If you want it.”

“Ah, well. I’m not sure I’m ready…”

“Really?” His voice was querulous.

I had just made the statement, “I’ve always wanted to take a trip in the Old City,” while we had been standing on a roof top of one of the buildings. All was quiet, the city below us veiled in thick mist. And the journey of a life time was about to begin…

But, let me start with at the beginning, which is of course not really the beginning, but is just where today’s story begins.

Steve had come to me through Illan, whom I had met through Saul, the day I had come back from my visit to SA where Shelley had dumped me.

Illan – Chapter 1

Shelley – Chapter 2

Alisa - Chapter 3

He moved in and we produces magic together. I mean real magic – not just the type of illusory stuff that David Carpenter has made famous in Las Vegas. It consisted of telepathy, creating events, forecasting situations. All those stories we hear about the famous Magi of the Mystery schools of yore. They all occurred spontaneously, and we were aware of them, but neither trained nor practised in these arts. {Note: Chapter topic}

That night, it was just before he was to leave to return to the States and we were all planning to meet at the Sultan’s pool on the outskirts of the old city wall’, where B.B. King was playing.

“Are we going to go or not?” Steve asked. We were sitting in the living in Afeka, trying to work out a way to get to the B.B. King concert. Alisa was the only one with transport.

“I’m not sure my car can make it,” she said.

“Well, could try. After all, it is Steve’s last days here. Come on,” I encouraged her. “Let’s do it!”

“Okay,” She agreed reluctantly, only because she was falling in love with me and just wanted to please me. Poor girl, how I ended up mistreating her. Sweet and innocent, she was drawn to our wild ways.

We quickly packed a couple of items for the journey. A blanket to sit on, some fruit, water and warm clothes. Then into her old little Fiat we climbed and off we went. We were so excited that we missed our turn and went 25 kilometers out of our way. Good work, guys!

Turning around, it took a little bit of convincing to let Alyssa allow us to turn up the road to Jerusalem. But, in no time, we found ourselves approaching the winding ascent to the city. We merrily begin our ascent, chugging along, when we notice that that car is starting to heat up.

“Shit!”

I pull the car to the side of the road. “What are we going to do now?”

Steve asks.

“We stop the car, and wait till it cools. Then we can continue.”

“Take us home,” Alisa is saying.

“Come on, Alisa. We have made it this far. We can’t give up now!” Eventually I convinced her to continue on. She climbed into the back, pulled a blanket over herself and went to sleep.

After about 20 minutes or so, we started her up again. Carefully and mindfully, we began a slow ascent up the hill. We sweet-talked and coaxed the car up the hill.

“Come on, baby. You can do it!” “You are a doll. Just do this for us, darling.”

Believe it or not, we made it all the way up the hill and to the concert without any further mishaps. To this day, I believe that a large part of the reason we made it up the hill was due to the energy we single-mindedly pumped into that old car. That is why I say “Believe it or not…”

Arriving at Sultan’s Pool – so named because it was once filled with water, for one of the ancient conquerors and his houris to bathe in. It was dry now, and had a new-fangled eggshell capped outdoor stage. But it was an inspiring venue, nestled as it was, by the walls of the old city.

This evening it was alive with the people attending the concert. Of course, being starving students, we could not pay for the concert. We would have to jump the fence to get in. Lisa was a bit disconcerted by this turn of events, not being what one would call the most athletic of women, plus I am not sure if she had ever partaken of such an adventure in her life before. But, she was game, and we waited for our moment.

The fence was guarded on the other side by someone who had been placed every 5 metres or so. This was Israel, not America, so if someone who had jumped in was caught, they escorted him out of the arena, and deposited him at the front door, where he would promptly return to the fence and try again.

It was wonderful to see the way the people worked together in this venture. Once there were 20 or so people gathered wanting to enter, someone would jump the fence, and three of the guards would go charging after him, leaving a 15m unguarded opening, which the 19 people would promptly exploit and jump the fence. I helped Alisa over, and soon we were laughing and running down the hill side to the arena.

{Note: Include some details regarding the concert}

After the concert, we all decided to go for a late night walk in the old city. There were about 10 of us. Mostly Anglos, and it was decidedly brave, or foolish, for us to go wandering in the old city so late at night, even in those days.

But, today, I’m glad we did, for it turned into a magical, unforgettable night.

We were walking through the ancient, dark alleyways, chatting and enjoying being in this strange, shadow place. We were ascending, in an unconscious desire to reach a summit from which we could see the outline of the city. But, alas, we were enclosed in these walls of ancient buildings, and could see nothing.

The next thing I notice Steve jumping up onto the roof of one of the houses on the side of the pathway. Because of the gradient, it stood only 20 or so feet above the pathway. I followed.

The view from this rooftop was breathtaking. The skyline outlined in the mists rolling in. So ancient, so diverse, so contentious. Full of all these weird spiritual energies.

That’s when I stated the words: “How beautiful. I’ve always wanted to trip in the old city,” I mused aloud. And that’s when Steve held out his hand with the microdot in it.

That tiny drop of liquid acid scintillating on the coloured paper he held in his palm. So small, so innocent, yet it had changed our society, in ways unimaginable. It had transformed a generation of well brought up children, who awakened to some other essence in themselves. It awakened some essence in them, in that generation. It brought some of them closer to G!d, a deeper understanding of the energy and life that pulsates and permeates the universe around us. It offered an potentially life-changing experience, more so than most religious experiences could. Or what we nowadays refer to as a religious experience. But praying in the synagogue or church, or mosque, while could be termed a religious experience, has become essentially a religious practice. Any life-changing experience is more so a religious experience.

So how could I refuse?

I took the coloured piece of blotting paper and swallowed it nervously. I always have a moment of anxiety before embarking on one of these trips. Because it is like boarding an inter-dimensional space ship, having only the vaguest of idea as to where it is going, and approximately how long the trip will be. At least choose the companions with whom you will share your berth on the journey with. So I quenched my anxiety. We chatted a while longer, admiring the spectacular view.

Worried that our friends might be getting restless, we crossed back over the roof, and peered over to where we had left them. Lo and behold, there was no one there. They had left us behind.

Now, this is the type of events that occur when one enters the multi-dimensional arenas of entheogenics. Rationally, how could our friends abandon us in the old city of Jerusalem at 12:30am in the morning? How were we supposed to get back to Tel Aviv, anyways – at that time, with no transport and limited funds?

But then, how long had we been stuck on the roof? One of the effects of these medicine teachers, is the stripping away of time, placing one in a timeless, infinite realm. It strips away the constraint around time, up one’s consciousness to create space to allow other information and perceptions to enter. Though, in both our minds, it had not been that long since we had imbibed the hallucinogenic, and could not have been in an altered state of mind yet. However, it was Jerusalem and it was the old city, itself a “trippy” place containing huge energies from many dimensions. There are those that say it is a portal to the other world, and believe it too. Thus, perhaps we had been there far longer than we anticipated, and the others, who had not followed us onto the roof, had perhaps given up on waiting for us, believing that we had disappeared.

For a moment it was scary. Just the two of us, alone in this city of spirits and strife. Yet there was something appropriate or destined about this abandonment. We had no choice but to forge on and see where and what was awaiting us.

We jumped down off the roof, finding ourselves in an alley. We did not want to leave the city at this point so we just continued along this alleyway further into the city towards the high walls that surrounded it. We passed a number of stone houses, built shoulder to shoulder. As we rose up higher, we noticed what looked like a field on the top of some houses not far from us. So we climbed up the stairs we found, and found ourselves in an open field of mainly sand and dirt. It was a soccer field – in the midst of the old city of Jerusalem! Who would have thought. We ran onto it, began jousting with our scarves, danced and twisting and laughing merrily in this open space in a very densely populated area. After our initial exuberance at finding this open place, we sat a moment gathering our breath and thoughts.

Then we noticed that the field extended all the way to the wall, where there was a ladder that lead to a concourse that ran along the inside of the wall. As many of you might know, the old city – as where most cities from ancient times – is surrounded by fortifications, and this one is no different. The wall around it is made of thick stone with a walkway all around feeding the alcoves with narrow windows to allow the guards who sat there in their day to see out, and, if necessary, for the archers to fire arrows at the approaching enemy.

This felt like the right place to be, and safe there too, above the rooftops, instead of wandering around in the dark and devious alleyways of this ancient city. So we continued along this narrow concourse. Every 20 metres or so was a diamond shaped hole in the huge wall, which started off as a large cave-like opening on one side, and ended in a slit through which you could see a slice of the buildings that had been built around the fortifications of the old city.

I sat down in one of these holes, imagining myself in times past, sitting here, guarding my home, dressed in chain mail, holding a javelin and carrying a bow. It was a deep meditation, reliving the feeling of being here, and imagining the battles and life in this place in the ancient of days.

Now, let me set the scene. The old city of Jerusalem has many powerful artefacts in it. But there is one that stands above them all. It is called the Dome of the Rock. It is a beautiful, golden domed mosque built around a huge rock, upon which many believe was the old temple where the original scrolls, prepared by Moses, in the ark. It is the place of incredible power and spiritual focus.