Ways of the Warrior Utopia, Act I: Temples, Taxes and Training

Day 2 – 5:05 PM (Guest Quarters)

Again, I just can’t say enough about how otherworldly this place is.

First of all, I woke up on the couch at 4:00 AM to the faint sound of the Big Bell ringing. I had gathered from what Jeek said at Town Hall yesterday that the bell was designed to prompt a moment of collective meditation or mindfulness around Zentauria, every four hours. Additionally, here’s what Chang-Sun told us about the significance of when the bell actually rings:

4:00 AM is the Holy Hour
8:00 AM is the Morning Hour
12:00 PM is the Noon Hour
4:00 PM is the Afternoon Hour
8:00 PM is the Evening Hour
12:00 AM is the Midnight Hour

So, if someone says to meet them at such and such at the Afternoon Hour, you know to be there at 4:00 PM. 4:00 AM, on the other hand, is universally known in many cultures as a sacred time for meditation, and Zentauria is no exception. I understood that many folks here either start or end their day with meditation at this time. With that in mind, I threw on some clothes and headed toward the Mecca, just to see what was going on at this time of the morning. I quietly stepped through the open doors of the first temple I ran across. It was about 4:08 AM and, no shit, I saw about 12 people meditating in there, amidst soft violet lamps and candlelight. I grabbed a seat in the back and effortlessly climbed aboard the collective vibration in the room for a smooth half-hour of medi time. It was fucking awesome, the feeling of tapping into the clean, powerful consciousness that was so thick in that little temple. Wow. I wish there was some place like this back in North Hollywood!

Later this morning, it was time for round two in the Mecca. Chang-Sun picked me, William and Lindsay up in the van around nine and we headed across a 50-foot miniature Golden Gate bridge and over a clear stream speckled with colored boulders and spotted orange koi fish. Once we were in the Mecca, we took a different route than yesterday, since William wanted to see where he would be speaking tomorrow. As we eased down Renaissance Avenue, I saw more unprecedented beauty and diversity: old temples and newer shops, quirky-looking eateries, a gym or dojo every other block, an open air farmer’s market-type stand and a towering blue lighthouse structure, jutting up five stories from a thick wall of rose bushes. Chang-Sun pointed out that it was this building that housed the infamous Big Bell that rang every four hours. And then we saw another small park with a pond, surrounded by rows of old oaks, with long crooked limbs, barely concealing a curvy stone walkway…which lead to another prominent building on top of another grassy green hill; this was the Monarch Conservatory of Art, aka The MCA.

And on and on it went, as we continued through the heart of The Mecca. It was one gorgeous cluster of buildings, flowing into a beautiful slice of nature, which faded into some 400-year old monastery, standing next to a stealth series of structures right out of a Jetsons episode. But somehow, this mishmash of assorted elements was laid out cohesively and artistically, with an efficient functionality that drew you into it. I had a continual impulse to dive out of the van and engage this town full-on by foot…to walk the streets, explore the pathways, climb the trees and grope the granite and marble.

The Third Eye

The most prominent temple in The Mecca is called the Ramdonovex, or “The Third Eye.” Everyone calls it 3E for short. This is where the Saturday noon service is held, which is the big one around here every week. But as I understand it, it’s very different than most of the religious services we have. This one is based primarily on a lecture and audience meditation time where several collective intentions are brought into focus. The Zentaurians believe they can not only affect things in their own reality through group meditation, but that they can affect things globally, as well. So, beyond the traditional ritual of all meeting in one spot for a time of spiritual rejuvenation, this was about a large number of people consciously joining together and raising the collective vibration of the planet so important shifts could occur.

Moments later, we drove by 3E. It was an imposing structure, about the size of a small arena, with wide, simple lines. The walls, which extended several stories high, were made of some kind of swirly, purplish-orange stone that had been cut like gigantic bricks. 8 x 10 foot slabs of stained glass, each with its own metaphysical religious references, had been placed around the building at different heights and in seemingly random order. Then there was the roof; a gargantuan copper rock pyramid that extended high into the sky like its Egyptian cousin. It was a lot of building to take in. Chang-Sun slowed down to a rolling stop in front so we could take a closer look.

“Holy shit! Look at this place,” was about the best I could come up with. William and Lindsey gazed in silence from the back.

“Nice, huh?” Chang-Sun asked. “That’s where you’ll be speaking tomorrow night, William.”

“Damn!” he said. “How many spaceships did it take to construct that thing?”

“Well,” Chang-Sun chuckled, “it was definitely quite a work in progress for a while. It was actually built over and around another smaller structure that had been there from the beginning, because there’s something sacred about this actual spot. It is believed to be a sort of spiritual epicenter.”

I obviously hadn’t been inside 3E yet, but from what I was sensing curbside, this building had a huge aura about it…and not just because of its size. It emanated pure, tangible energy. You felt compelled to confront this structure, to ask it what it knew that you didn’t. It glowed with a secret knowledge. I couldn’t wait to go inside.

Taxes and Training

At some point as we were cruising around this morning, the subject of commerce and civic logistics came up. Chang-Sun told us that Zentauria had a very efficient system of running things involving something called C.T.s, or county tithes.

“This is kind of like our version of taxes,” Chang-Sun explained.

“And I’ll bet all personal medical expenses are covered here?” William asked.

“Ah…a sore subject in America, right?” Chang-Sun said. “So sorry about that. But yes, C.T.s take care of all medical and dental expenses for our citizens, as well as provide a monthly stipend for preventative activities, like dojo fees and…”

“What?” I cut in. “You mean to tell me that gym memberships are free around here?”

“Well, your basic membership is covered via the stipend, sure,” Chang-Sun said. “But if you wanted to study privately with a particular martial arts teacher, let’s say, then that would involve a private arrangement.”

“You can train here for free? Unbelievable,” I said.

“Uh oh…looks like Bobby Rock is about to change citizenship!” William joked.

“How can this be?” I asked.

“They figured out a long time ago that it actually requires less of a total C.T. health care allotment per citizen in the long run if they make it easy for everyone to stay healthy,” Chang-Sun said.

“Oh, I see…so you’re gonna play the common sense card on us, huh?” I joked. We all had a laugh.

He then mentioned what I had already suspected. “Of course, medical and dental treatment is mainly given to our older citizens. Most of us simply don’t require very much of either through our first eight or nine decades.”

Quite a different story in the good ol’ U. S. of A.

After a quick bite at an outdoor café, we dropped by a funky little art gallery and saw some of the most outrageous contemporary oil on canvas I believe I have ever seen. A bubbly and beautiful woman named Banana, with long braided pig tails and a nose ring, showed us around. Then we visited a small auditorium where some actors were rehearsing a chaotic scene from a play with elaborate props, in what Chang-Sun would later tell me utilized four different languages. And while I only understood the English portions of the script, I could still somehow decipher the storyline. Super trippy.

From there, they dropped me off at a killer gym near the guest quarters here called The Apache House. This was a great facility with a fantastic vibe. Everyone was friendly and the gear was first-rate. I met this huge motherfucker there who looked like a Samoan powerlifter. He introduced himself as Iommi Rinoa, but said everyone calls him “Rhino.” I could see why. He was playing around with 365 pounds on the bench press, doing slow and steady, full-range sets of 20, like it was nothing. If only the anti-vegan diet muscleheads back home could see this guy in action. This was gravity-defying strength.

One other interesting note: I was talking to Rhino between sets about all the work-out places I’ve noticed they had in town. He explained that, in addition to all of the gyms and dojos you might see around the Mecca or in the villages, many homes and even places of work had private training facilities, as well.

“Here’s a perspective for you,” Rhino went on to say. “A major fitness gear manufacturer recently speculated that there is over twice the amount of workout equipment – including free weights, resistance machines, cardio units, heavy bags and other martial arts supplies – per capita here in Zentauria, than in any single city in all of the US.”

A true warrior’s utopia, indeed…

© 2009 Bobby Rock

 

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