John Herlihy - Journeys with Soul: Adventures and Cures That Came True

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

In Search of the Truth

Veils and Keys to Enlightenment

The Seeker and the Way

Modern Man at the Crossroads

Near and Distant Horizons

Borderlands of the Spirit

Wisdoms Journey

The Essential Gunon (Ed.)

Wisdom of the Senses

First published in the USA

by Sophia Perennis

John Herlihy 2008

All rights reserved

Series editor: James R. Wetmore

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without permission

For information, address:

Sophia Perennis, P.O. Box 151011

San Rafael, CA 94915

sophiaperennis.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Herlihy, John.

Journeys with soul: adventures and cures

that came true / by John Herlihy.1st ed.

p. cm.

ISBN 9781597310901 (pbk: alk. paper)

ISBN 9781597319591 (Ebook)

1. Religions. 2. Spiritual life. 3. Spirituality.

4. Spiritual healing. 5. HealingReligious aspects. I. Title.

BL80.3.H48 2008

200.9dc22 2008042627

Much more than just an engaging book of travel essays and adventures

among interesting peoples in exotic lands this book offers a rare glimpse

into how outer journeys can become passages to the soul. The authors

own spiritual sensibility allows the reader to experience something of the

inner meaning of witnessing the Face of God in all things.

M. Ali Lakhani, Author, and Editor of Sacred Web

The journeys described in this volume cut across a number of diverse counties andrepresent very different experiences. They have one thing in common, however, thatbinds them together in the spirit of which they were written, namely SOUL. Whethervisiting the mountainous regions of the Karakorum in Northern Pakistan, or makingthe ritual circumambulation in the Grand Mosque at Makka, the author of these talesbecame a pilgrim soul in search of experiences in distant lands that have the powerto touch the pilgrim soul within us all.

John Herlihy works at the Petroleum Institute, anengineering university in the United Arab Emirates.In addition to his teaching activities, he has writtena number of books, including Borderlands of theSpirit and Wisdoms Journey, published by WorldWisdom Books. Both books deal with the challengeof living a life of spirituality in an anti-spiritual world.

TO

FARMAN ULLAH SALEH

Whose every step is journeys end

To finish the moment, to find the journeys end

in every step of the road,

To live the greatest number of good hours, is wisdom.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON

[Experience, Selected Essays]

When will I come and see the face of God?

(Psalm 42:3)

JOURNEYING BEGINS in the infancy of childhood imagination. Children happily build castles in the sand and fly through the air on imaginary magic carpets with all the ease of clouds moving through the heavens. A bouncing ball can become a source of wonder and a firefly illuminating the darkness of a summer night contains all the mystery of the universe with its flashing, phosphorescent glow. They carry in their pockets dried autumn leaves, shining pebbles, and perhaps a rabbits foot as the valuables on offer by the world. They delight in the sight of a farmers scarecrow and their hearts feel terror at the face of a pumpkin illuminated by well-placed candles in its eyes, nose, and mouth. Their flights of fantasy and their incredible sympathies with the unseen specters of their imagination lay waste to all the counterfeit ambitions of humanity and pull away the false mask of the world.

Regrettably, we do not take with us from our youth the sense of mystery and wonder that enlivens the fleeting hours of childhood with their innocent perceptions. To make matters worse, this is not an era in which legends are born, and the legends that we have preserved from antiquity no longer thrill us with their mysterious tales of dragons, knights, and vanishing cities. The Golden Fleece has lost its luster and the silvery waters of the Nile and the Ganges have turned an inglorious muddy brown that belie the glorious ancestry of these sacred rivers. The Arc of the Covenant and Holy Grail are vestiges of a lost era whose quest does not speak directly to the modern soul. Atlantis now lies at the bottom of the sea as a myth that was never made true and the ghosts of Minchu Pichu are but airy clouds passing through the ancient ruins of a lost civilization without care or interest for the ruins below. Is there still a road to Damascus to stir the worldly-wise cauldron of our hearts or set our souls in tune with the vibration of those celestial harmonies, a road whose journey has the power to reduce our pretensions to ashes and lend wings to our holy desires? Is there not some thimble still ample enough to preserve the paucity of our sacred desires as a legacy for future generations, who will need to enter the inner sanctum of their own temples to unveil the secrets of the ancients and who will need guidance concerning the whereabouts of their own holy of holies?

As a child, I turned to books to extend my horizons and take me into worlds that I couldnt go on my own. I wanted nothing more than to charge boldly into the promise of the unknown, across savage seas, deep into the jungle where Tarzan roamed freely with the animals. Fairy tales held a special delight because they made the improbable believable and contained within their simple similitudes the secrets of the abiding truths that children instinctively value. Between a books covers and embedded within the words strewn across the page like talismans of the imagination lay the winter garden of the selfish giant, the encaged bird that sang from the heart to gain its freedom. The lost city of Shangri-la reappeared from the mists of time, and the hidden treasures of King Solomons mines would forever remain beyond the reach of avaricious humanity. I knew that one day I would venture forth in search of the answer to a question that lay just below the surface of my consciousness, a question that would need answering if I were ever to resolve the enigma that lay reflected within the well of my imagination.

Within each of us, there is a sacred centercall it a well, a bridge, and a hidden cavethat harbors the secret of ones inborn destiny, the well to view the reflection of heaven, the bridge to cross between visible and invisible worlds, and the cave to meditate upon and internalize the knowledge of the world as the wisdom of the ages. I remember an experience from childhood that had a lasting impression on my native, childhood mind that may well have been the catalyst that put me inside the bottle of my fertile imagination and cast me adrift across the tumultuous sea of life in search of the Holy Grail, the source of some inner Nile, the lost tribe of Israel or the enchanted garden where myth becomes a narrative for truth and the illusions of the world become the signposts of a higher reality.

When we were children, even though the family didnt have much money, my parents made every effort to bring us to places of natural beauty within reach of our home just outside of Boston as a way to escape the dull routine of everyday life. Every summer, the family of seven would pile into the old broken down ranch wagon, distinctive enough with its wooden-framed sides, to make our way up into the White Mountains for our little jaunt into the wilds of New Hampshire. For us children, these vacation trips had the makings of an adventure that would lead us to the edge of frenzy and set our hearts on fire. My parents had meticulously set aside enough money during the wintertime for these summer excursions and therefore had enough money to afford a couple of nights in one of the local motels featured along the country roadside. We walked the gorge at Franconia Notch and sat in canoes on one of the lakes in the shadow of the White Mountains, although why they were called white was never resolved in my childish mind.