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30

 

I then left the dunes and returned home. I felt that for the time being all experiences had been finished with, and I must wait patiently for the next episode.

 

There were a number of outer experiences, which I will only mention as it would take too long to go into details.

 

While still in the dunes, before 1934, when I had word that Baba was to be at the Chicago Fair of Religions, I boarded a freight train and for five days and nights I rode on top of that freight. When I arrived in Chicago, I had discovered to my great disappointment that Baba had cancelled the trip. Elizabeth cabled Baba; Baba cabled back: "Sam to the dunes." With little money I received from home I boarded a bus and back I went. They were old-fashioned buses, and, as we crossed the mountains the snow drifted right in. I landed back at Oceano with a good case of the flu. I walked the remaining three miles to my shack.

 

When I returned home to New York in 1935, there were a few trips to visit Baba. One was to England, when I travelled with John Bass and the late Kenneth Ross. Later, I went to India, where I stayed a short time, assisting Baba with the washing of the masts or God-intoxicated men—such as handing him the water, and feeding five of the men. There were many other contacts, but relating them would take too long. I will bring the inner experiences up to date:

 

First, there is the ever-recurring experience as follows: I go to bed, and about 2 am., while the body is fast asleep, I find myself looking straight up at the ceiling, only instead of the ceiling there is only the sky. But it is not a night sky; it is the morning or noon day sky, and the sun is pouring down upon me. I can look right into the sun, and it is just like a beautiful summer's day. Should I lose consciousness, and go to sleep again, towards morning once again, I am looking up at the sky, but this time I find myself looking up at the sky covered with stars. This is a mystery—ask Baba to explain!

 

Then there are the experiences at Haifa, Israel, where at eventide, seated in the little park called Gen Hazeekroen (Garden of Memories), the great joy in the Lord would come to me, there beneath the swaying poplars and the one clear star above.

 

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