Without my wife, Deborah Rose, there would be no Guru for me. It’s my love for her that has been the greatest driver of my desire and willingness to evolve, to outgrow my limitations on the ability to love perfectly.
The driver of the dump truck had been visiting next door and arrived without a child in sight so when he climbed back into the truck and began driving, the thump of the right front tire ending my brother no doubt became a lifelong trauma for him.
Deb and I have repeatedly fallen in love in cars. With almost 30 years of time spent together, there have been a number of road trips of various lengths and while a few stand out in my memory, I can’t recall a single trip that wasn’t filled with sweetness.
For the first decade of our relationship, I spent an enormous amount of energy trying to “fix” Deb’s OCD. You probably wouldn’t need to know much more about me to know how futile my efforts were and how idiotic a man I was.
I had been back from my 2007 trip to Naitauba for about a year when Deb told me she wanted a divorce. While there were many signs, I was totally blindsided. The idea that she might leave never really occurred to me. I was remarkably obtuse.
All I recall is that at some point I suddenly realized that the light entering my eye while meditating on Adi Da was so intensely bright and all the details of the entire room became so washed out in that light that it felt almost like I was staring into a light source. It was emanating from Him.
The first time I really noticed Deb was in the spring of 1992. She was wearing a beautiful cotton summer dress with pink, red and blue flowers and she was playing with a little girl in her charge. They were twirling. I was smitten. She was 21 and I was 27.