The first week of school follows a familiar formula: new class schedules, different routines, strange teachers, intimidating text books, and sports. Given the busy sports calendar, Ayana invites the boys over to her house on Saturday to discuss THE project. Tate swings by Schuyler’s house, drops his bike off, and the two walk down the street toward Ayana’s house. Tate’s mouthing the lyrics to a rap song emanating from his ear buds.
“I sure hope you don’t use that same mouth to kiss your mother,” Schuyler comments.
“What!” Tate answers pulling off the right ear bud. “Now you’re on me too? Hey, just because you’re still on your dad’s playlist, doesn’t mean you can pass judgment on my musical tastes.”
“It’s not the music, but the lyrics we need to worry about,” he answers.“What do you mean by that?” Tate answers.
“The power of suggestion, my man,” he replies. “You know how people get brainwashed, don’t you? They repeat words and phrases over and over again. Advertisers do it all the time. The messages get inside us. It really messes with your mind.”
“Now you’re sounding like your parents,” Tate replies as they stop near Ayana’s driveway.
“Actually, more like my position coach in football. He’s getting us to concentrate better by blocking out negative influences. It’s a battlefield. All I’m saying is to pay attention. Just like in your beloved soccer, you are the ultimate goalie for your own mind. If a message doesn’t ring true, move on.”
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” he says. “Goalie for my mind, I like it. Hey, I wonder if that has anything to do with listening to our hearts.
“Keeping out unwanted messages?” Schuyler says. “I’m getting more convinced of that. I had a tough week, Jamie and all. But keeping my mind on positive thoughts has gotten me through it. It’s like my mind is the castle, and I use all my weapons to defend it.”
“Hey, like knights!” Tate exclaims.
“Yeah…,” Schuyler tails off thoughtfully.
“Schuy, how’re we going to do this? I mean it’s everywhere. Do we have to stop listening to music altogether? I’ll go insane.”
“I don’t think so, but is has something to do with being aware.”
“Sounds pretty extreme for teenagers,” Tate observes. “Aren’t we supposed to be a little rebellious? I don’t want to miss out on all the fun.”
“Look, I’ve tried that rebellious route; it hasn’t been much fun either. Besides, taking control of our own minds is the ultimate rebellion. What’s the point of switching the one who controls us from our parents to some rich rapper and his record company? I want to be independent, not sign over my thoughts like some check. This is my house,” Schuyler says, pointing to his head.
“I hear ya, but aren’t you getting a little carried away with this?” Tate asks.
“If anything, I’m not making it sound bad enough,” he says. “Worst of all are advertisers.”
“Seriously?” Tate asks.
“Seriously,” Schuyler answers. “There are more ads on television than programs.
“You mean programming?” Tate adds.
“Yeah, nice Freudian slip. More programming going on than programs. Anyway, they bombard us with all these messages. It’s deep, my dad still hums meow mix jingles from the 1970’s. It’s nuts.”
“Meow Mix - What are you guys talking about there on my driveway?” Ayana interrupts from the front window. “Come around back.”
“I’ll let Tate fill you in,” Schuyler replies as they head through the gate to the back patio. Ayana has books and printouts spread out all over her patio furniture.
Tate spends the next few minutes making some of Schuyler’s arguments, which forces a smile that Schuyler cannot suppress.
“Tate, I have to agree with Schuy on this one. I keep up with the latest releases, but I pay attention. Our parents used to buy albums, and they came with an LP sleeve with lyrics. Most kids just download tracks without checking the lyrics. I mean they’re easy to find, but most are shocking.”
“Boy, this is not going to be easy,” Tate replies. “I’ve got a lot of money invested in my music collection. I’d hate to delete all that.”
“Change bites,” Schuyler says. “That much is true. But hey, why should I be the only one having fun? I mean, I’ve got legal troubles, girl troubles, and now my life’s careening off on this new course. Why should you guys get a free pass?”
Tate’s face turns red. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Are you talking about Jamie?” Ayana replies. “I thought you ditched her?”
“Not exactly,” Schuyer responds. “She’s not the sort of girl who takes ‘no’ for an answer. We’re supposed to have a cool off period. Then, she wants me to go to counseling, which I’ve refused.”
“Nice ploy,” Ayana says. “I admire her handiwork.”
“That might do you good, Schuy,” Tate replies. “I mean, you have been seeing things.”
“Piss off Tate, you saw it too!” Schuyler shouts.
“Boys! Boys!” says Ayana.
“Wait a minute, Ayana,” Tate responds. “He started in by attacking my song choices.”
“Perfect time for a little demonstration.”
“I’m not in the mood – now,” Tate replies.
“Me neither,” Schuyler adds.
“All the better for a more effective demonstration,” she answers. “Tate, you first. Have a seat on this chair.”
“You aren’t going to pull out your pendulum are you?” Tate says somewhat sarcastically.
“Only if you won’t cooperate,” she stares him down. “Look, this will make you feel better. I promise. My mom does this to me all the time. Just close your eyes and take five deep, slow breaths.”
Tate figures the course of least resistance is to go along with her. He gathers himself and takes a deep, but troubled breath. It rattles. This is followed by another, until by the fifth breath, he begins to feel a little relaxed.
“Now, I want you to focus on the thing you are thinking about right now,” she continues.
“That’s easy, you guys, picking on me – especially Schuy,” he answers.
“That’s pretty shallow, Tate,” she answers him. “Make an effort to really think about it.”
“The bottom line is you and Schuy have pointed out something I’ve suspected, but didn’t want to face. I’m bummed because I’ll have to change … like the kind of music I listen to … if I’m on this knight project. I’ve invested too much in my music collection. I’m uncomfortable. I’m not in control of this.”
“Excellent focus, Mr. Askin!” Ayana exclaims. “You’ve already unburied the issue of control. Something our egos don’t like to give up.” She turns to Schuyler and whispers. “My mom always pulls that one on me.”
“O.k.,” he answers. “I see that, although I’m not sure what you’re driving at.”
“Now the second part deals with whether you are ready to let go of the feeling that arises when we challenge your choice of music,” she answers. Are you ready to let this emotion go or do you need to welcome it?”
“I need to what?” he asks. “I still feel a little mad at you two. What do you mean by welcoming it?”
“Can you allow that feeling to be with you a little while?” she says. “Don’t suppress the feeling. Just feel it, identify it, and observe it.”
“That’s pretty easy,” he answers. “I’m feeling it alright.”
“Good,” she says. “Now observe it. Observe the feeling like it’s a visitor. How did it come to you? Did you let it in?”
“Yeah, I think I allowed myself to get mad,” he answers. “It kind of feels good. I’m seething.”
“Very good,” she says. “Cozy up to it for a moment. Then, when you feel up to it, ask the feeling to leave. Take a deep breath.”
“It’s kind of intoxicating,” he replies with his eyes still closed. “I’m not sure I want to let it go yet.”
>
“That’s fine, we’ll wait here until you are ready,” she answers raising an eyebrow toward Schuyler.
“Whew,” he exhales. He pauses a moment. “Hey, that was weird. It left, like someone leaving a room. It did what I asked. I don’t feel mad anymore. What is this?”
“My mom’s been practicing this for years,” she answers. “It’s a different approach to managing your emotions. She calls them visitors. They might be uninvited, but the best way to have an unwelcome visitor leave, is to welcome them, let them have their say, and then invite them to leave on their own. Resistance breaks down. They leave on their own accord.”
“That’s like mental martial arts,” Schuyler pipes up. “In karate, we use octagon movement to re-direct our opponent moves. We use their energy, and redirect it in a way that’s not threatening, at least to us,” he says grinning.
“That which you resist, persists - as my mom says,” she explains. “Just let these emotions have a controlled vent, then they evaporate. It’s like they get bored once we stop fighting the feeling. Don’t fight it, and you won’t feed it.”
“I get it,” Tate weighs in. “It’s like trying to get a tennis ball from a playful dog. It’s best if you let him drop it. Plus you get less slobber on your hands.”
“Ayana, why are we talking about this?” Schuyler asks. “What does this have to do with listening to our hearts?”
“I was sitting up last night thinking about all the things that get in the way of really listening to your inside voice,” she answers. “Emotions are really my major stumbling block. I thought this practice would come in handy. Apparently, it does for you boys as well.”
“Emotions?” Tate asks. “You have emotions? I thought you were the ‘Ice Queen?”
“Looks can be deceiving, young apprentice,” she replies.
They spend approximately fifteen minutes discussing some of Ayana’s research on related topics. At which point, Ayana gets a smirk on her face. “Hey, have you guys ever heard of the Illuminati?”
“The who men naughty?” Schuyler asks.
“Yeah, it’s a snowboard company,” Tate says matter-of-factly.
“That’s a modern manifestation. Probably borrowed the name,” she answers. “This group is ancient, from Germany I think, maybe older.”
“What does this have to do with what we’re talking about?” Schuyler asks.
“Well, I was googling the word ‘light’, and came up with a bunch of hits,” she says. “After following a series of hyperlinks, I came to this article. I read about some group that had planned to create a new world order. Apparently, they were the illuminated ones and had secrets of the universe. A conspiracy theory tries to link heads of states, bankers, and famous people to this group.”
“That sounds vaguely familiar,” Schuyler replies. “Maybe from some movie I’ve watched in the past. Do you think they’re related to these Knights of Light?”
“I have no idea,” she answers thoughtfully. “When you read what they were trying to do, it sounds like they had unlocked some secrets and were going to use them to create a mega power structure for the world. They’re an ultra secret society, so it’s hard to know if they still exist.”
“Weird,” Schuyler replies. “The first part sounds similar, but I don’t see knights trying to take over the world. Not at least as I understand them. They seem more like protectors, not aggressors.”
“It’s probably nothing,” Tate surmises. “It’s a conspiracy theory, right?”
“Yeah, I don’t think anything’s ever been proven,” she replies. “Probably a waste of time.”
“Speaking of time, don’t forget about the Children’s Hospital outing with LaurAx tomorrow,” Tate reminds Schuyler. “They’re dedicating the new game room. Brilliant idea from your attorney, Ayana’s dad, to have you work some volunteer hours in advance of your hearing, Schuy.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me,” Schuyler replies. “I can’t believe I chose going to a hospital as part of my legal penance.”
“I almost forgot,” says Ayana. “I’m going along… you know… to vouch for his hours. Hey, my dad suggested it. Besides, I can write a short article for the school newspaper.”
“Sounds like you manufactured an excuse just to go along, Ayana,” Tate says.
“Can you blame me, after your little rim outing?” she replies. “What time is your mom picking us up?”
“7:00 A.M. Schuy’s driveway,” Tate replies. They both groan.
“That’s grim,” notes Schuyler. “Doesn’t anybody ever sleep in on the weekends?”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Tate grins, “but mom has to be at the nurse’s station by 7:30 a.m. We’ll have plenty of time to visit with the kids before the events get started. And remember, no hogging the Xbox. It’s for the patients.”
Chapter 11: Children of the Heart
Remember the clear light, the pure clear white light from which everything in the universe comes, to which everything in the universe returns; the original nature of your own mind. The natural state of the universe unmanifest. Let go into the clear light, trust it, merge with it. It is your own true nature, it is home. -Tibetan Book of the Dead
Knights of Light: Knight Vision Page 10