How we deal with the unknown is in large part how we live our entire lives. It is one of the most prominent influences in who we evolve to be, who we become. As a result, our perspective of the unknown is a window inward, and one that significantly impacts our judgment, the decisions we make, and ultimately the corresponding direction of our lives. To understand yourself and your direction, therefore, hinges upon how one confronts the darkness, the intimidating soul of the unknown.

When dealing with the unknown so many people fall into two extremes. Some prefer to approach it strictly from an evidentiary standpoint, where they won't believe in the absence of absolute tangible proof. They rely on logic and the rational mind to confront what they don’t know or understand. While conversely, others desperately convince themselves right from the start just because they want to believe. Their fear of not fitting in, not feeling a sense of significance, drives them to blind belief. Although accepting one extreme alone can be a dangerous undertaking toward your personal growth, both of these extremes, taken together, can assist us in dealing with the massive chasm of the unknown—our existence. Indeed, they help define who we are individually.

As we sauntered through the tight, crowded streets of Kuta in the midst of another sweltering, sunny Balinese day, I was not sure what to believe from the reading. How do I deal with this element of our existence, the unseen, a world so unexposed to our naked vision. The reading has challenged my system of dealing with the unknown, that part of life that seems beyond logic, beyond the comfort of our known universe. I do know however, that in the next few days my belief system will be challenged and that it could turn out to be much different than that which existed only a few days ago. That is, should what Eebu said about the bag and my journal turn out to bear fruit, to bear out in truth, what would that say about my incarnation centuries ago as she suggests. Bren and I both agree that if we can determine the veracity of her statements regarding the theft of the bags, it would certainly lend deep credence to the rest of the reading and my incarnation in particular. Logically, they go hand in hand. I acknowledge the connection between these prognostications for if she's provided accurate insight into the theft, I will believe the same for my life (and past life). It could change my entire philosophy of life, my beliefs, my path, even my inner being. That's profoundly intimidating because sometimes knowing is worse than not.

So, the quest for my true genesis in life now begins...

***************

Suddenly, I was invisibly nudged awake in the middle of the night—yet again. It was the third day since the reading and something here wouldn’t let me sleep. I laid motionless in bed staring through the darkness at the fan furiously spinning above me and listened to the geckos chirping all around the room. I felt much like I did in Fiji when the thoughts of Vietnam so consumed me; I was disturbed, mentally vexed and emotionally frustrated. My thoughts drifted to the reading, and one thought continues to plague my mind.

Is reincarnation feasible?

The thought, the concept, now seemed to have a will of its own and it flowed uninhibited through my being. Eebu’s remark that I've been reincarnated many times has seized my undivided attention and now fully consumes my energy. The uncovering of such incredible detail about one of those lives has twisted my otherwise logical mind into its own living, breathing double helix of life. It contorts the rational, and distorts my preconceived perceptions, I feel lost, abandoned by that which I’ve always relied on, that which gave me a level of comfort with my existence. Now, I was being told that who I was, was far more than even I understood and that the essence of me stretched backward in time to lands and circumstances beyond not only my sight or imagination, but beyond my own memory. That the most basic strand of my beginnings didn’t arise from my biological parents, indeed, that this entity referred to as "me" no longer had an existence in "me." No, it went much deeper, much further, than a solitary "me" in any time or circumstance, I was being told that indeed, who I am goes far beyond the "me" of present day or my known history. In fact, the "me" of now was merely a grain of sand in the hourglass of time. With this uneasy thought, I again stared at the fan spinning wildly, lopsided, fluttering above me.

I slipped out onto the deck just outside the room and plopped down into the chair. I quickly fell into a slouch and placed my feet on the chair across from me. My head drifted onto the wicker back and I gazed at the clear night sky; I gazed at the twinkling lights dotting the black dome above me. There's just so much in the night sky, and it seems at this moment appropriately enough, overwhelming. I thought about the possibility of my past lives, I pondered their existence not based on a religious belief or dogma, not because I desired to just believe, and not because I feared their reality. It then struck me, just as I stared at the stars high above me, that reincarnation is logical. It actually makes sense. It serves as a plausible reality, one that on a basic level rationally explains the unexplained, the unknown. Even more, I realize now that it does provide a possible means toward achieving our ultimate, possibly divine, purpose in this existence, in this form, and in this realm.

But first, what is this purpose?

It all begins, as I am ironically entranced with the world above me, at one of the most incredible sources of energy we know, it begins with a Supreme Being, with our conceptions of "God." I have long struggled with the concept of "God." I really don't know what "God" is, nor do I suspect that I'll know what the entity of "God" is during this life; in fact, I may never know, ever. I do know that I am not a blind believer in anything until I have come to grips with that which confronts me, and indeed, I make no exception for "God." That is not to say that I must have a completely logical or rational understanding of something to believe; rather, it is merely that I have to see enough sides of the cube in order to comprehend what it is I'm dealing with, what I’m observing or feeling. I don’t have to "see" it, however, I must have some tangible construct at least in my mind in order to believe. Yes, both sides of the extremes in dealing with the unknown exist within my mind.

I also think that we as humans cannot comprehend, or even appreciate, many ways of the universe. I probably even believe that there are certain elements that in our present form that make it impossible for us to understand some of these profound aspects to our universe at all. I guess I believe that we will never have all the answers. I believe that on a theoretical level as well as a practical level. I have learned that as human beings one of our most basic needs is motivation, and there is nothing more so than our struggle to understand ourselves and our purpose. Without it, what would our existence be composed of? In our present form, we are driven to understand. But why? Because it’s a form of survival, the evolution of our species has implicitly taught us how to survive, and now our genetic impulses dictate, even demand, that we "understand" the world around us to protect ourselves, to survive. That’s been our "edge" in pushing us to evolve.

To me, I have always been leery of organized religion. I am cautious about anyone or any entity that pretends to have such omnipotent power of knowledge, especially with a subject that is impossible to truly know. I do believe, however, that there is something there, something amongst the beautiful energy of the stars. I believe that it exists in the form of an energy, a presence we cannot in this realm understand. But I do think that our understanding of "God" itself, or how we individually celebrate His existence, is not nearly as important as understanding our purpose in relation to this entity. There has to be a logical nexus between our purpose and this entity. A means of fulfillment to that end. Reincarnation seems to fill, at least partially, this grand canyon of the unknown. Indeed, it fills a gap that is not only relevant, but critical to understanding ourselves and our collective direction. It is a form of survival, evolution, maybe not on a physical level, but rather on a plane of spirituality.

You see, by constantly occupying our minds with questions regarding the actual existence of "God" and our oft times distorted preoccupation with worshipping this "God," we have not only segregated ourselves from each other—our true source of energy, but we’ve placed ourselves in the primitive role of always "reacting." I wonder, are we again just that primitive that we push ourselves to a "belief" just to create feelings of significance, that we indeed fit somewhere? Ironically, it is only this blind "desire" to feel a part of something, the yearning we develop after leaving our mother’s cozy womb, that then forces us to move toward doing "good" things to promote this feeling of "fitting in." That is, if we all knew "God" didn’t exist, how many of us would inherently do these "good" things? Without fear of retribution or the promise of reward, who would we be?

It’s truly a question that plagues me, because I know that the answer has so much to say about us as human beings. In fact, it may be the single most important question we could ask…are we merely beings constrained by the fear of punishment or the promise of a reward, or are we something deeper, something beyond our primal fears and conditioned responses? Again, who would we be without this "self-imposed" form of existence?

The question of the existence of "God" or our personal beliefs, or even how we celebrate His existence aren’t relevant for it tells us so very little, if anything, about who we are. Indeed, even in attempting to answer the poignant question that lingers within us all, that is where are we going, what happens upon physical death, it falls pathetically short. What is important, however, is the nexus between ourselves and this entity, because in understanding that question comes more understanding of who we are, and where we are going as human beings. Also, it naturally coincides with our instinctive biological drive to "understand" to seek to positively contribute to our evolution. It places, at least in part, some of the answers within our control, and we become, therefore, "active" as opposed to "reactive" participants in the grand scheme. Simply, we cannot control the unknown, but we can in how we deal with it. Just like the fear which naturally manifested in climbing the Pemberton Tree, each step taken is one in that corresponding direction—you either evolve or devolve.

In truth, we should be able to "understand" who we are and where we are going with or without "God." Because with the answer to that question comes a deeper sense of ourselves, a strength in our collective existence, one mind you, that would contribute back to "God" rather than take from Him. Ironically, therefore, the more you understand "you," the more the "you" loses its distinction, in essence, we lose a sense of individual significance and feel a touch of the true power of the collective and even the significance of "God."

But how do we get to "understand" ourselves, how do we even begin the process of assessing our divine purpose?

Reincarnation, or the rebirth of the soul, could well provide the means of this spiritual evolution—an individual guide to understanding our divine purpose. We have certainly expanded the learning curve of our existence over the revolving centuries. First, from a primal daily life as hunter-gatherers in which mere physical survival was the primary focus, to the Middle and Dark Ages where life was restrictive and intertwined with the precipices of organized religion—an existence where emotional survival became the focus. And now, in our present day, where we have the free choice and free thought to find our spirituality. It is now our choice, our spiritual survival is the focus, and quite possibly, it even hangs precariously in the balance.

The premise of reincarnation is contrary to the thinking of many who basically believe (many as Christians) that we live a single life after which our soul is directed to heaven or hell depending on the events of that life. A soul is judged therefore based on a single set of circumstances. Although we experience different events (or tests) in that lifetime, it is nevertheless a single stream of circumstances. Logically, this smacks of not only being blatantly unfair and unjust, but also of a wholly unproductive means of evaluating one's purity, or simply the "good" of the soul. It would be like having a student study for an exam in which they are given a single multiple-choice question in determining whether they pass or fail the entire class. This would serve absolutely no purpose in evaluating the student's grasp of the subject and likewise it would serve little purpose to evaluate a soul based on a single set of circumstances. Especially when that set of circumstances could be unjust in itself, and for all of eternity, that soul is bound by their decisions during this single, isolated set of circumstances. In truth, it almost seems ridiculous; otherwise, our lives here on earth would have very little meaning beyond generally abiding by a few select rules or commandments of morality or guiding principles of philosophy. The simplest solution to accommodate this dim view would be to merely comply with those simple rules, which naturally promotes us in being "reactive" to the environment rather than being "active" in our soul-growth and spiritual evolution. Indeed, there may not be any other evolution to our true form than spiritual. That is, our soul may not have the capacity to physically evolve and certainly it doesn’t have the potential for emotional growth as we presently experience it.

So, do our lives have such little meaning and depth?

Some have argued that our lives are a function of the truest test of faith, and that frankly, life isn't always just or fair. Although the latter is certainly true, it's difficult for me to accept that our ultimate purpose as human beings isn't fair or just. That is, that the possibility would exist that one could do everything "right" in attaining his purpose to "God" and still be arbitrarily rejected. As for faith, I don't really know what it is precisely, but I know what it is not. It's not just believing. It's not blindly believing in something. It's not blindly believing in something without a logical basis for that belief, for blind "faith" is a mere conviction laced with "hope." Otherwise, what purpose would it serve, for the strength is not in the belief itself, but in the commitment to the belief. Under such impotent circumstances and lack of thought, how could a blind, even artificial belief withstand the intricate folds of eternity? Simply, it couldn’t; no, the power of "faith" must somehow come from a strength within, a strength forged from some logical thought and reflection—from "learning." Without it, the belief is, and always will be, formed in the creases of "hope."

As I sit here in the middle of the night in Bali, I know it would serve little purpose to just believe. It would, in fact, be a form of self-imposed slavery. Our lives being composed entirely of blind belief in "God" and following a few simple rules. Do as this unseen warden instructs and you'll be saved. Behold the light or experience the wrath.

Pavlov would be proud, but pragmatically, what purpose would that serve to us or, even more pointedly, to "God"?

Further, it certainly seems difficult to fathom that this "God" would have such an ego as to create us for the sole purpose of worshipping Him or to merely to "serve." Again, what purpose would it accomplish? It's a form of slavery; would "God" truly desire mindless toilers of His kingdom? Rather, He has provided us with "free will" which seems to counter this thinking that we are merely to pray and worship His existence. Indeed, what would such a God think of one who utilized their gift of free will to deny His existence? It is logical to believe that He would be "content" (not satisfied) with one’s lack of belief, for as long as an individual probes and searches the unknown, they will eventually be "guided" to the light of "truth." Now, that has to be a firm tenant of this "faith." And it is one with blind belief, the one who nary uses their gift of "free will" in the least, who would bear the wrath of a logical, just, and gracious "God." Indeed, for in their blind belief they would eventually betray the "truth," and it becomes inevitable for their conviction is not based on anything but the quicksand of idle "hope."

For what is a decision without a path, what is a key without a lock, and oh yes, what is a belief without the conviction of understanding?

Worse yet, many of us are motivated to believe in "God" in the first place merely out of fear, fear of going to hell, or even worse, just the oldest fear known to man, the fear of being left out, loneliness. Such people are predisposed not necessarily to do good, but just not to do evil. Even worse still, they propel their feelings of insecurity onto others by attempting to persuade them that they too will go to hell if they don't believe as they do. Such a path to the glorious realm of "God," if reality, would completely ignore those who fully utilize the gifts we as human beings have been given, namely free thought and free will. This "God" would be ignoring those who truly think and live their lives on a personally devised belief system, while grossly rewarding those who are oblivious to the world around them, many of whom even lack the courage to challenge themselves, to search for their own answers and express their thoughts. It would reward those who simply "react" rather than "act" in attaining our true purpose. It serves little purpose to have us just blindly believe. Indeed, it would make a mockery of "God" and the existence of us as human beings, for it diminishes the profound grandeur in each.

I can't help but think of diving in the Cooks, and specifically when Bren came to my aid in the face of the sharks. I remember thinking that I'd rather be with someone who saw and confronted their "demon," even if it meant panicking, than one who’d never seen it at all or chosen to confront it. For me, it was knowing that she confronted fear, and in the process, she would naturally grow stronger of mind and body. Now, I wonder why would "God" be any different? Why would he desire any less?

Ultimately, why should the lessons we learn here on earth be any different than the lessons of the universe? Why would our lessons here not have a logical connection to our divine purpose? From all that we do know, it would be illogical, even irrational, to think otherwise. Yes, if "God" created this massive classroom, why wouldn’t it be constructed to promote our learning and growth through the gift of free will, rather than as a prison or hell. As I glanced upward at the magical and inspiring energy encircling my world, I already knew the answer.

I think I enjoy the night sky so much because it seems endless, just like the unanswered questions that surround us as human beings. In a flash, I see those Kaikoura dolphins dancing before me, and "my" dolphin twirling, dancing in circles around me.  I gaze into his eyes and see a shining glimpse into the Beyond.  I see their world, our world, another world, and I am personally content with not knowing, but yet I am not satisfied. For me, I think that it's precisely the personal search that is our individual divine purpose, because it is within the struggle we discover the essence of our individual souls. Truly, it’s the most precious gift "God" could offer, and sadly, most of us (myself included) completely miss it.

I move across the night sky and stop at one star, the center star of Orion’s belt, and I ponder that question, where would we be without that gift? Without the personal search, without the struggle, we'd be lost. Without the motivation to do "something" what would we be, without the struggle to survive, without the struggle to better ourselves, without the struggle to properly bring up our children, where would we be? For myself, personally I'd be absolutely bewildered and misguided. Just the thought seems so oddly alien, it even feels strange. I think that's the way it would be for most of us. It's so ironic. What we as human beings search for is endless "peace" of mind, body and soul; yet we'd probably be incapable of handling it in our present primitive state. Further, in this primitive state, we probably have certain "conflicts" within each of ourselves that must be worked out before we are able to ascend to the next realm--namely fear, doubt, and anxiety. We must learn to constructively deal with those destructive forces, those toxins that would otherwise preclude our acceptance of "peace." That could very well be our divine purpose here on earth and in our present form...that is, we are not supposed to find "peace" here. "God" would certainly be able to give it to us or inevitably we will evolve spiritually to find it, rather maybe it is more about learning how to deal with this "peace" that we will ultimately receive.

This seems to be the logical end.

The consequence of believing in a world without a "God" or Supreme Being or life beyond our physical death is certainly threatening, utterly daunting. For us, it is to hold our personal lives with an inherent lack of value, essentially to negate the worth of our being. For, regardless of religious belief, is it not the motivation to add to the quality of our being, to positively evolve into the next realm, that fuels our feelings of "significance." More importantly though, this entity "God," has given us the "free will" to find this significance. Why? Because without it we would be nothing more than mere mortal actors following line-by-line the script of life’s drama. We would be just taking up space within this massive universe. Ultimately, we do need to experience a sense of belonging, one of understanding and awareness, a penetrating feeling of "significance" in our existence. However, none of these elements can merely be created or manufactured, rather they must be discovered. Once again, this journey of search and discovery naturally requires one to take an "active" role in their personal evolution, rather than merely being "reactive." It necessitates that we be seekers, inventors, and thinkers in life; otherwise we again become mere mortal actors.

It certainly seems logical that we are here to learn, and at least in some basic form, to develop the virtues of living within in an imperfect condition surrounded by the imperfect. Namely to cultivate faith, patience and understanding; that is, simply to attain a level of purity from the impure. Is it not logical therefore that He have "faith" in us, and wait patiently for us to find ourselves, to rise above our rebellion, above our primitive animal-like instincts. Why? Because only through finding and ultimately understanding ourselves, by ourselves, will we develop the strength necessary to understand "peace" and be at "peace." Only by experiencing the rebellion within us can we glean a truly deep perspective into "peace." What "peace" could be therefore is our common conception of heaven, a blessed union once and for all with this entity, this energy, "God." Again, however, that glorious end is not nearly as relevant as in the means of getting there, of attaining this unique perspective and purity.

I peer over my shoulder and through the window at Bren sleeping peacefully and I can’t help but think of the tidal flow of the river now surging through me.  I sense it, I feel it, and the walls, once opaque are now casting a piece of my reflection.  I see her asleep and I reflect on our connection, our relationship. How can I possibly build a solid relationship with her without first having some basic understanding as to who I am. How can I personally have a solid relationship with her without having first come to some understanding of my past and its contributions to who I am at this moment. In truth, I couldn't. How could I then have a possible relationship with "God" without first understanding myself? Simply, I couldn’t. Again, why would "God" be any different?

Why would the lessons we learn here be any different than the lessons of the universe?

But it's finding ourselves, understanding ourselves, that is the onerous part. It is an ongoing struggle, one always inspired by what we don't understand, by that which we endlessly seek. Persistence, patience and consistency are the themes that guide our way. I can see the goal and the path, but I have endlessly struggled with the means to this end. That is, how do we in this physical realm of "conflict" achieve this lofty goal?

I know now that is why Eebu's visions of my possible reincarnation struck me so hard. Reincarnation is a rational, logical means to the glorious end. To accomplish this divine goal of dealing with our destined "peace," each of us must be provided with various circumstances, different environments, and exposed to an assortment of forces from which we can test and retest who we are. It is necessary to learn, in order to cleanse these impurities, these "conflicts," from our beings—to "understand" the deepest essence of our being.

In this respect, I think about a large vacuous room. If the universe was that single room and I wanted to "understand" this room, to become "aware" of myself within the open space of the room, and to feel at "peace" in this room, it would be imperative that I see it, feel it, and contemplate it all from different perspectives. That is, float to the ceiling, sit in the corners, lay on the floor in its center, climb the walls, because only then would I begin to come to grips with the room and how I fit into its construct. Only through this "testing" would I come to understand myself and become "aware" of my place within the grip of this universe. By contrast, just by being in center of the room, even though I could learn different positions and ways of maneuvering in the center, it would still be only the center perspective I would ever experience. My perceptions and ideas of the room would be limited solely to the center perspective. Reincarnation provides, therefore, the means of seeing and experiencing the rest of the room. It gives us the freedom to not only develop perspective, a depth to our being, but to revel in discovering who we are, and to become "aware" of our place within the cosmos. It gives us the opportunity to roam the golden path of our purity and accept the "peace" with our existence.

One of the things that scares me about growing older is that my thinking inevitably seems to grow more rigid, and every day I desperately fight against this seemingly uncompromising force. It also seems the more rigid my thinking becomes, the more I tend to perceive that I have things figured out, or worse, the more I just stop thinking altogether. It terrifies me. It seems that it's a plaguing human condition, and for this reason, reincarnation seems feasible. It permits multiple life experiences to mold and caress our personal growth rather than just a solitary, isolated stream of circumstances. It's funny, I now believe that as children we are in the purest form we will ever experience in flesh. For it’s the human condition to taint our purity, and yet we must deal with the imperfections of being human to develop a deeper perspective to that "purity." So in essence, as the years pass we become less "pure," but hopefully, at the same time we are developing a deeper, more refined, perspective to who we are, and even to that "purity." What we truly seek in life is to return to our state before birth, our natural state, but what would the purity of that state be without an "awareness" and "understanding" of it, that is, an appreciation for that existence. Just as seeking contrasts to deepen our perspective here in this physical realm assist us along the path toward "happiness," so does it in helping us along our spiritual path toward developing our "purity" and accepting our destined "peace" within the next realm.

Along those same lines, a rebirth of the soul provides the opportunities to grow and learn from our mistakes in retrospect. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, or so the saying goes, and reincarnation would enable us to use it to our advantage for the next time around. It now strikes me profoundly. If we were students learning to completely master a subject, wouldn't it be most productive to be able to study the material, be tested, understand our errors, study some more and retake the test, and so on. Certainly, that would give us the best opportunity to comprehend the material, much more so than merely studying the material, taking the test and receiving a pass or fail grade. Reincarnation also releases us from the bindings of "guilt" associated with our previous mistakes and allows us to learn and ultimately grow from those misplaced steps. A series of rebirths certainly provides the best opportunity to maximize our individual and collective growth. It provides the path toward attaining a logical connection with "God," a connection that serves both of our interests, one that creates a strength in our existence, individually and collectively. Again, therefore, the more we grow, the more we "understand" about ourselves, the more we become "aware" of not only the surrounding cosmos but also of "God." Most importantly, it becomes a relationship bound in power and strength, even love, and not one of weakness and subservience.

I remember a story my Grandmother often repeated about me as a young child. After she had explained the concept of heaven to me one day, I innocently inquired, "Why would God simply allow us into heaven if we've been good?"

"Because he loves us," she innocently replied.

After a moment's reflection, I then asked, "But Grandma, even when I've been good my parents don't always give me what I want, and they love me...don't they?"

She smiled softly at me, gave me a hug and said, "Of course they do, honey."

As I laugh about it now, it makes so much sense. Why would "God" simply let us into the realm of heaven, why would "God" fling the doors wide open for us all to walk through upon physical death? Or, as many religious icons purport, just ask for forgiveness and boom, you'll find that your ticket into the kingdom is granted. Neither makes any rational sense however. What would be the purpose? What is the purpose of learning on earth just to freely give away the key to heaven, what is the purpose of asking forgiveness for something a person hasn't even thought about. If there is one lesson each of us has invariably learned from our experiences in this realm, it's that nothing is worth anything to us if it's just given, and just how often the converse is true. That which we struggle and strive to attain is all the more sweet and even more, it usually instills a strength within each of us. Again, why would the lessons we learn here on earth not play out likewise in the universe?

It certainly seems illogical that "God," of all entities, would provide the key to heaven in direct contrast to one of the most important practical lessons we can learn here on earth. It is our human nature to find the "easiest road," the path of least resistance, and it seems that dealing with "God" it is no different. We want "God" to just forgive us of our sins and mistakes because it's much easier to believe we don't have to put in the work individually to understand, to learn, to accept and love. Everything we've learned about life is precisely the opposite however; that is, nothing comes easily and you rarely find what you seek without a fight. Somehow, I don't believe that "God" would permit us to take the path of least resistance in blatant conflict with this natural law. In fact, ironically, I think it's probably in our nature to take the "easiest road" because we are supposed to learn to fight against this tidal force in order to expand our mind, fortify our will, and ultimately, release our spirit. It is necessary to gain the perspective of our "purity" in our true state of existence, to learn to accept our divine "peace."

I know now that Eebu has given me a precious gift, the gift of personal spiritual insight. During the reading, she naturally exposed me to the means for attaining what might very well be our ultimate purpose in this physical existence. From this perspective, reincarnation becomes the cornerstone of finding out who we are, becoming "aware" of the universe, sensing the depth of our "purity," and achieving our purpose here in this realm. Reincarnation would provide the environment, circumstance, and opportunity to discover who we are individually and collectively. We can then express our experiences and perceptions as only we can in this condition, we can learn from the imperfection with our existence and ultimately change that which we must to achieve a more spiritual existence—a deeper sense of ourselves, an enlightened, pure existence. That is, to understand how we can truly accept our "peace."

Personally, I do believe that everything in our universe has some form of logic and rational basis. That is not to say, however, that we'll ever understand or even realize the logical connection; in fact, we probably won't. But, for me, that is where "faith" comes in to play. It's faith, although not so much in "God," but faith in myself, my direction and the attainment of spiritual purity. It’s understanding my connection, my distinct place, and taking an "active" role in accepting my profound gift from this "God." And I now understand as a result of Eebu's reading that the more I find myself and the more I understand myself, the more I find and understand "God."

***************

…And the more He seems to find me.

I fought it with all I had, but the current was just too strong. It was devastating and I was entangled, helpless, in its powerful, unrelenting grip. I put my head down on the boogie board paralyzed with exhaustion; limp, I was seized mercilessly by the hands of this ravaging sea. Hopeless, my faith drifted away with the unwavering current and as I laid face down on the board drifting outward to the open sea, I softly closed my eyes.

I had rented a boogie board taking to the huge surfing waves of Bali. Receiving a surge of bravery, I paddled out to catch the big one along with the surfers. I soon discovered that a surfboard moved far more easily through the water and with Kuta's strong current, I found myself almost instantly being swept uncontrollably out to sea. Vivian had emphatically warned us about swimming here as she said scores of people die each year from the powerful current and undertow. I put my already flaccid arms back into the water and haplessly splashed about in a meek attempt to continue the fight, yet no matter how hard I paddled, I lost ground. And I then heard Vivian’s words ring achingly through my throbbing head, again and again. The beach seemed to grow more distant, the people on shore became mere specks, and even the line of surfers was quickly fading. I jumped off the board and simply tried to swim back in toward the beach. Still, I made up little ground while becoming listless and drained. Worse, there were no lifeguards, and no one noticed, not even Bren who was resting comfortably back on the beach. I called out, no one responded. When no one even looked, I knew the situation was desperate, I knew that I was close to being stranded in the open sea.

The waves were breaking much closer to shore and I became deeply concerned, even terrified, but I used this energy to make another attempt to make up some ground. I put my head down and paddled as hard as I could for as long as I could. I looked up just to find that I was not much closer, and what I had gained was quickly lost as I collapsed on the board. Then, as I lay on the board with my numb arms dangling in the water and my breathing hard and heavy, I felt the palpable strands of hopelessness ripple through my body and unbridled fear take a deathly stab at my gut. Just the open, flat sea surrounded me, no waves were breaking even remotely close, and I couldn’t even hear the waves crashing on shore anymore. That I could no longer hear the waves hit me hard, it felt stifling, oppressive, and I choked on the thought, the thought of dying.

After the brief rest on the board, I jumped off again consumed with determination and sheer fear. I gritted my teeth and swam furiously through the pain, it was agony for the more I struggled, the more I realized it was just no use. My faith began to fleetly fade and intense despair took hold of my fatigued body. I stopped and simply tried to get back on the board, but I couldn't. I had expended virtually every ounce of energy. I panicked realizing that if I didn't get back on the board I would surely drown. The utter fear of drowning was all that got me back on the board where I then collapsed. Still, no one noticed. I was terrified but had no energy to actually "feel" it, and I continued to drift out to sea, alone. I put my head down on the board, closed my heavy eyes and felt an overwhelming feeling to just go to sleep.

As I rested in the water rolling with the gentle flow of the sea and just as I felt any semblance of faith fade from my paralyzed being, I suddenly felt myself lifted. Higher and higher. Startled, I opened my eyes to find myself being carried high on a wave. Without the slightest effort it carried my limp body all the way to the safe sand of shore. I continued to lay on the board resting on the beach, too exhausted to move. Time was lost, and the next thing I remembered was looking up into the blinding sun hearing Bren’s melodic voice asking if I was okay.

"Bri, oh my God, you had me so scared...I couldn’t find you anywhere," she kept repeating as she propped me up and we walked back to our towels where I folded into the sand below and immediately fell asleep.

Back at our bungalow, I recounted the story to Bren. She was riddled with curiosity, and pushed for every detail, hanging on every word.

"It seemed surreal, and even now I wonder if it really happened. I was so far out with so many people on shore and in the water, yet not a single person noticed. I called out and no one heard and I can tell you honestly that I thought I was going to die. In fact, at the end I don't think I had any hope I was going to get back to shore, I think I had all lost hope, Bren. Yeah, I know I lost it, for I even thought of having seen you for the last time. It was the lack of faith though that truly scared me, babe. And it seemed that just as I had that feeling...the wave came. It all sounds so damn ridiculous I know," I meekly explained.

"I don’t think it sounds ridiculous, especially for here in Bali. But what do you think brought you in, really?" she asked as her eyes narrowed with scathing interest.

"I don't know, it could have just been a normal wave that broke so much further out than the others, but if it happened to you and under such desperate circumstances, I am not sure you'd believe that it was just a normal occurrence," I offered.

"So what are you saying, that God or some supernatural force brought you in?" Bren sincerely replied.

"I just don't know. With the crazy stuff that's been going on around here, I just don't know," I returned.

"Well, I think it was some unexplained force," Bren emphatically stated.

"You do!" I snapped back with shock.

"Yeah, I do. I think you were saved!" Bren said looking at me sternly.

"Maybe it was my Angel," I joked.

"I think it was!" Bren quickly returned staring at me with indignation.

As I continued resting on the bed, she sat up and looked out the window, scared, and consumed by deep thought.

"I saw you Bri, rolling on that board back into the beach, and do you know that was one of the biggest waves I’ve ever seen. And it was in the middle of hundreds of surfers and you were the only one on it! Bri, you couldn’t even stand up when I found you, do you know that. Yes, you were saved. I know you were saved."

My eyes rolled back into my head as I closed my eyes, terrified by Bren’s disposition, her sincerity, her depth of twisting emotion. It severed my logic, my rational mind, I felt bewildered by the sheer thought of being rescued by something I couldn’t explain, or even understand. I opened my eyes and stared at the turning blades of the fan above me, I felt time churning with the swift revolutions of the fan, and yet it stopped. Time was held in check. I was stunned. It was the first time Bren had firmly stated her belief on these strange, even mysterious, occurrences. It was her first stand. I felt a poignant sense of relief, for at least I wasn't just going off the deep end.

And almost as if she felt this delicate moment within me, she wrapped her arms around me, softly kissed my cheek, and placed her head gently over my beating heart.

We were together, but not alone, now we knew better, we felt beyond ourselves.

"Bri," Bren then softly said with her head still tightly secured to the thumping within my chest, "We can’t forget this day, either of us. Because I think you found a piece of that faith you’ve been looking for…I think we both have."

***************

Reincarnation may be rational, even logical; however, that doesn’t necessarily support its "truth." So, as we on the fifth day since the reading embark upon a return voyage for Sukawati, the search for this "truth" begins.

We’ve received no word from the ads placed on the radio and newspaper, no leads or signs of our belongings. So, with the aid of the hotel staff, we drew up a flyer in Indonesian detailing our loss and offering a reward for its return, no questions asked. We made hundreds of copies and headed for Sukawati, back to the point where a week ago our lives changed forever. We were both jittering with excitement at the prospect of actually doing something rather than sitting around idle like we have for the past four days. Unexpectedly, however, as we approached Celcuck—ironically the town of Vivian’s store, I saw a man on a motorbike resembling the same guy who pulled over with us offering assistance on our original trip. The same man I believed to have stolen our stuff.

"Isn’t this the same place where we ran into that guy before our stuff was jacked?" I casually asked Bren.

"Yep."

"Well, isn’t that the same guy? The guy who stole our shit!" I emotionally spouted pointing to the guy on the motorbike.

"It could be," Bren returned still unsure.

I began to impatiently pass through the traffic, anxious, driven to just get a look at his face. When we turned the corner I saw his face, his eyes.

"That’s him, that’s our guy!" I screamed

"I’ll be--, It is, It is!" Bren then yelled, jumping around in the seat, "Get closer, c’mon Bri, get closer. Damn, I can’t believe it, it really is that asshole!"

"Move it, move it, faster, Bri, don’t let him get away."

"Get his plate number," I said now frantically weaving between cars and accelerating crazily through the small town.

Just as Bren was telling me she got the plate number, I saw him cruise up next to a rented Suzuki like ours and peer into the back window.

"AHHH, oh my God, oh my God, did you just see that?" Bren began screaming, jumping up and down in the seat, and uncontrollably punching me in the arm.

"I saw it, I saw it, that's definitely our man," I said filled with focused fury.

I jumped on it passing the final two cars and got directly behind him. I thought of gunning it to run him over, when he slowed to get another look into the vehicle and he saw us. He immediately recognized us and as a result of the shock he violently skidded off the side of the road. I pursued him off the road almost unintentionally running him over after all.

As he was picking himself off the ground I yelled, "What the hell are you doing?"

"You remember me?"

"Yeah, we remember you..." Bren, leaning over me, began maliciously yelling out my window at him.

"You remember I tried to help you," he said tenuously.

"Yeah right...what's your name?" I asked.

"Why?" he said trying to subtly get back on the motorbike.

"You know why!" I said angrily.

His face turned pale, his eyes widened, he shakily looked up at us and then took off. He sped away leaving a huge cloud of dust and we barreled off in hot pursuit. Bren immediately began blaring away and rhythmically beating on the dash, "Go, go, go, go...let’s get him!"

Our thoughts instantly became consumed with catching the thief, and just like in Perth, off I charged in pursuit.

Upon seeing us in chase, he quickly turned onto a narrow dirt road. He was flying. Bren turned fanatical, crazed, screaming in anxious desperation. Our anguish, our pain, was unleashed and the injustice could now be overturned. We felt the scales within our power, and we both were boldly determined to see them swing our way, to tilt them in our favor while we had the chance.

"We’re going to get him, we’ll get that bastard!" I bellowed as we bounced all over the cabin of the truck, and fighting through the huge spray of dust.

"You’re damn right," Bren returned never removing her eyes from the red cloud spread out before us.

He kept turning however, weaving in and out of the small village, even at times deliberately going in complete circles. Bren kept tabs on him, hanging out the window in an attempt to see beyond the thick line of flying dirt. She was barking out his every move, "There he goes, turn, turn, go, go, go, c'mon faster, faster."

"I’m going to have to force him off to the side of the road," I said as we began to close the gap.

"I don’t care, I don’t care, all I want to do is haul him off to jail—and it doesn’t matter how we do it!" Bren shouted fully consumed with mind-numbing adrenaline.

"Look, look," she continued, "he’s coming directly at us!"

He had turned around in the narrow street and now approached us head on in an attempt to squeeze by us. I quickly went left trying to cut him off, but he swung the bike the other way and slipped passed on the right.

I slammed on the brakes and skidded through the dirt. By the time I turned around in the narrow road, he was gone.

"Dammit," I screamed slamming the steering wheel, "that's twice I've lost a thief inside of a couple of weeks."

We just sat there on the road, stunned and yet emotionally still coiled.

"I can’t believe we ran into the guy who stole our stuff, I just can't believe it," Bren kept repeating, obviously distraught and overwhelmed by the coincidence.

"Well, obviously he was scouting that other truck and maybe by pursuing him we saved the others from getting ripped off..." I said trying rationalize our reckless pursuit and to comfort Bren.

"We should have jumped him back at the roadside when we had the chance," Bren angrily suggested.

"Believe me I thought about it. But at that point we weren't positive he did it, and ya know, we had no proof. It would be a tough one to explain to the cops having a couple Americans pummeling some native along the roadside all based on some theory we had," I said.

"You're right," Bren was saying as I started laughing.

"Yeah, but it would have been a heck of a lot of fun," I said as we both laughed hysterically at the thought.

"And for all the spiritual stuff we’ve discovered here in Bali, I still feel like physically pounding him into submission."

"Ha, you got that right," Bren fired off and we laughed together in the open road, our faces caked in brown dirt and people along the roadside staring at us.

After a quick stop at the police station to report the guy and his plate number we were once again off to the Sukawati. I thought we should begin by following Eebu's statements about the location of the bag and go from there; Bren agreed. So, we went through the small town passed the spot of the theft, passed the market, and stopped just passed the police station, a little over a kilometer from the theft. This would be the vicinity where she claimed the bag was thrown out, so it seemed reasonable that the man who apparently picked the bag up would be around this same area.

We walked up and down the main street handing out the flyers to each shop along the way. Invariably, the response was the same--a side to side nod of the head, a quick shrug of the shoulders followed by a blank stare. We continued for hours undeterred, however, without even the slightest positive sign. It was just after lunchtime, and we plopped down on the side of the road, hungry, tired and frustrated.

"Bri, I hate to say this but this is pointless, really," Bren said with her head slouching between her legs staring at the ground.

I was tossing small rocks onto the road, "Yeah, it does seem pretty much hopeless."

"We haven't found even the slightest clue, and there are woodcarvers all around this place. I don't think anything is going to turn up. It's all gone, Bri, it's time we give up," Bren said with a sullen tone, "let’s face it, our stuff is gone!"

I didn't want to give up despite the overwhelming odds, but I knew Bren was right.

"The journal is gone, okay, there I said it. Let's go," I said reluctantly and we embraced trying to ease each other’s pain.

We somberly reached our feet and began walking back to the truck, when something grabbed my attention. I looked around, I looked up, I looked across the road where I saw a small wooden sign nailed to a pole. It read in English, "Woodcarver ==> 50m," and pointed down a small road which branched off the main road. I stopped suddenly, and just stared at this inconspicuous sign.

"What's wrong?" Bren asked stopping a bit further down the road.

"I don't know, do you see that sign?"

"Yeah....So?"

"You don't see it?"

"See what? That it's in English?"

"Yeah, but something else, I don't know....I don't know."

"There are lots of signs like that around."

"Not like this one," I blurted out and immediately bolted down the narrow dirt road.

"Where are you going? Bri?" Bren cried out tentatively trotting after me.

"That's it, that's it!"

Bren now swung into full gear trying to keep up with me, "Bri, c’mon, slow down."

I arrived at a large gate with no signs, but I saw a guy in the distance behind the gate of a seemingly abandoned lot doing something with wood. Gasping for breath, I entered.

"Where are you going now?" Bren asked as she followed me through the gate confused.

"I don't really know," I returned in a virtual whisper.

Together we approached an older man who was carving wooden pieces for a chess set. He seemed to be in his late 50s, grayish hair, a wrinkled face, and he was covered in wood shavings and dust. He wore an old, worn ball cap. I just stared at him for a moment as we locked eyes and Bren handed him the flyer. I watched his eyes intently. He read over it, then nervously peered up over the flyer at us staring at him. He buried his head again in the flyer and read it again, and then yet again. He said not a word. My stomach turned, my heart began to thump thunderously in my chest and I quickly glanced at Bren, who seemed dazed, almost astonished. We both knew something was blatantly amiss, his demeanor and disposition were certainly much different than any of the others, he was obviously anxious with our presence and even stranger, he didn’t have an air of pleasantness that virtually all Balinese seem to possess.

"Ah, you lose buku?" he finally said to us breaking the oddly long silence.

"Yes, we lost many important books," I replied.

"You lose passportes?" he continued in broken English.

"Yes."

"And you also lose camera?" he then calmly inquired.

I shuttered and Bren instantly grabbed my arm. I looked him deep in the coals of his eyes, and after a pause unassumingly answered, "Yes, we did lose a camera."

"He's got it!" I immediately thought with uncontrolled jubilation for we never put on the flyer that we had lost the camera or photo equipment--only a bag containing books, important papers and our passports.

"I hear story," he mumbled in broken English as he turned and walked toward one of the rooms in his home.

As I was following him, Bren tugged on my arm, lifted up toward my ear and whispered with disbelief, "Did I really just hear that about the camera? I think he’s got our stuff!"

I returned a quick smile, as the old man returned and said, "We call." Call for what, I didn’t have a clue, but we all walked down the path back to the small road. However, as we reached the gate he turned around and said, "No, no, I can't. You wait."

He began to walk briskly back toward the house. We impatiently followed; there was no way I was waiting anywhere without him. Back at the house he searched for something, and he seemed nervous, even agitated; he was definitely hiding something and didn’t know how to act, and certainly, he didn’t know what to do. He then gave us an informal business card and told us to go the address on the front of the card. I had him put his name on the back so we could tell this business owner who sent us, and we reluctantly left with our first real lead.

We both were flying with excitement.

"We’re definitely, definitely onto something here!" Bren said bouncing through the air.

"No doubt," I yelled back as Bren uncontrollably interjected, "Can you believe this, this is unbelievable!" We knew the address was on the main road not far from the old man's house. We tore down the street on an adrenaline-induced pace, finally arriving at the address completely out of breath. We walked through the gate into a courtyard in the midst of several run-down, small structures, and were instantly approached by two young teen-age girls and an older woman. We showed them the flyer and the business card. The two young girls immediately shouted out in excitement, "You wait, you wait," and they scampered into the building facing the main street. The older lady then retreated into what was obviously their home.

After several minutes, an older teen-age boy came flying out of the house jumped on a scooter in the courtyard and drove by us in a blaze. The girls returned, hardly able to contain their excitement, while a younger woman in her thirties came out to meet us, and said, "You wait, someone is coming."

After several minutes of joking with the girls, a woman arrived on a scooter. She looked Bren and I over cautiously, then took the flyer and business card. She read them several times switching back and forth between the flyer and the card. She seemed perplexed, so I tried to explain the situation in English. She gave no response; in fact, she wouldn't even look at us. Then two men arrived with the young boy who had sped away earlier on the scooter. They read the flyer and card and discussed the situation with the woman in Indonesian. After a long pause, they read the flyer again, and then the entire group began bickering. They began yelling at one another frantically, even it seemed with anger. The two young girls were sullen, obviously confused and didn’t say a word. The one man, who now struck me as being in control, was becoming wildly animated and I began to even think about our safety, when it all suddenly stopped and the man asked, "Where do you stay?"

As I pointed out the address on the flyer, he asked, "How long you stay?"

"Until we get the bag back," I returned.

I further pointed out the reward and that no police would be involved, when he then asked if we could be contacted at the number listed on the flyer. As I nodded in the affirmative, the bickering fired back up again.

I was getting frustrated, even angry. They all knew something, and we weren't getting any answers or even an explanation. I had the urge to just bust in and start searching all around the place for my bag, my journal. Yet I remained patient, I heeded Eebu’s cautionary words. Neither Bren nor I said a word as we stood waiting, afraid to make a move, knowing the bag was near; we were close. The man then finally turned to us, and even while the lady continued yelling at him, he said, "We know nothing of this bag." He shuffled his feet, staring at the ground and never looked up at us. Everything about being human, everything about my training as a lawyer, everything about my sense of people, suggested he was blatantly lying. Yes, I knew he was lying, for he knew of our bag, he may even have been in possession of it himself.

I fought back my urge to say something more, determined to remain patient. I merely thanked them for their assistance and to call the numbers on the flyer if they learned anything, and we walked away leaving our bag and journal behind.

***************

We picked up our new passports at the embassy in Denpasar and cruised back to familiar Kuta. Our friends from next door came over and we all gorged ourselves on a watermelon Bren had picked up along the roadside coming back from the Embassy. Naturally, the discussion turned to the events of the day. After explaining the story, Sandi asked, "Do you really think they had the bag?"

"Yeah, they had it," Bren answered with stern conviction.

"Well, they definitely knew about the bag, there's absolutely no doubt about that. In fact, if they didn't have it, they knew where it was," I said emphatically.

"Yeah," Bren continued, "first, that old man knew something and sent us to the second place where those young girls were so excited, they had to know something about the bags, and then how they all argued for such a long time. I mean they were all in a frenzy over this thing. For sure, they knew something."

"Bren, remember when those girls disappeared into that shop that looked abandoned right after we got there, I wonder if the bag was in there, because they came back so giddy."

"And remember how distraught they looked when we were leaving, it seemed that they knew about the bag and couldn't understand why their parents weren't giving it back," Bren added.

"Oh, there's no doubt in my mind they knew about the bag, they were all blatantly lying," I said.

"But how you found the first old man, now that was bizarre," Sandi said with wide eyes of disbelief.

"That was Bri, this whole thing is just so strange. That would have freaked me out before, but I am growing almost used to this stuff happening now. I've never experienced anything remotely like this before," Bren answered.

"I don't know really what happened there, Sandi, the sign just seemed to stick out to me. It seemed different. It's hard to explain because nothing like that has every happened to me before coming to Bali, but that's the best way I can explain it," I said.

"This whole thing is almost laughable it's so bizarre," Bren was saying as I interjected, "God, I can't believe that inside of three hours we ran into the guy who stole our stuff and may have found the people who have my journal!"

"But what about Eebu's predictions?" Sandi's mom asked.

I looked at Bren as she looked at me. Neither of us said a word.

"Well?" Sandi said with giant expectant smile.

"Well, you know that she saw the market and police station, which indeed both turned out be near the theft--"

"Yes, yes, but what about the distance, the three kilometers?" Sandi's mom anxiously said cutting me off.

"The woodcarver's place was almost exactly 1.5 kilometers from where the bag was stolen," Bren said.

"Yes, obviously within the 3 kilometers she told us, but more interestingly, it's half of the 3 or its radius. She told us within 3 kilometers, which I would take to mean 1.5 kilometers in each direction," I said with another bite of juicy watermelon.

"...And it was a woodcarver we first stopped at," Bren hesitatingly offered, almost as if she didn't want them to make the connection.

"And he was definitely nervous, even scared...and no one else we gave the flyer to reacted like that," I said.

"That's a bit understated Bri. Everyone else read it over quickly, and only once, and then immediately gave a cordial nod and told us that they didn't know anything. I watched them--not one even hesitated."

"Yeah, and you said the woodcarver knew about the camera," Sandi quickly pointed out.

"I do believe that the first guy, the woodcarver, had the bag or was the one who picked it up," I offered.

"Oh my god, she's right! I knew she would be," Sandi's mom cried out.

No one else said a word.

Bren and I put our heads down as we placidly continued eating our juicy melon. I wasn't prepared to face it. I knew the woodcarver had the bag or had it in the past. I knew it. Yet, I didn't want to face it. I couldn't. Could she really have seen it all, all those small details, could reincarnation be a reality? Could a large piece of who I am be missing, that I am presently a pyramid of so many past lives?

"Oh, the deepening mysteries of life," I muttered out loud, "the simultaneous taste of sweetness and breath of sourness, the intense conflict of personal growth--"

"What?" Sandi said with an off-hand smile.

"Another one of his poetic moments, or so he thinks," Bren said with a jab to my arm.

"No, please explain this to me, Brian," Sandi curiously inquired.

"Well, I am struggling with the clairvoyant’s suggestions on reincarnation. I’ve been thinking about it all within my own framework of belief and spirituality—"

"And, well, c’mon, don’t leaves us—" Sandi’s mom anxiously asserted.

"Okay, the beginning of spiritual attunement is allowing the mind and your inner thoughts to vent, to seek fulfillment. From this process, you can then ‘see’ and ‘feel’ the world around you. Sometimes, even much differently than before as it alters your perspective and enables one to develop compassion for that world, from that new perspective. It therefore deepens your thoughts, your emotions, your being. Through this reflection and compassion, and confronting that which you fear, you can only then attain a basic level of ‘understanding.’ In essence, a heightened ‘awareness’ of the world around you."

"Hmm, so that’s what you think is happening to you right now?" Sandi gently asked.

"I honestly don’t know if I’m that far, maybe I’m just too close to this situation. But I do believe that this process has begun on some base, deep, level within me. I feel that at least."

"But you don’t know about the understanding or awareness?"

"That’s probably something that just arises naturally, I do know that I ‘see’ and ‘feel’ something deeper, something beyond my logical mind now, I sense a more intense compassion for all things. And, as much as I don’t want to believe it, I know that Eebu was right on with her predictions on our bag. So, what does that say for all the other stuff--"

"I just knew it!" Sandi’s mom shouted.

"Mom, knew what this time?" Sandi said turning to her mother.

"That was it, the reason for the clairvoyant. Look, Brian, that was your path of fate, and you’ve accepted it, even embraced it. Don’t you see it? Wow, it’s amazing. I just knew it!"

The sweeping red sands were revealing something within its soul, something deep within the recesses of the interior rock of earth, and now it was breaking through the final creases of crust to the surface.

"Yes, in all the times I've traveled and all the places I've been, I've never had anything happen even remotely close to this. It's exciting, I feel like I'm part of the whole thing," Sandi explained her eyes consumed with wonder.

"You're welcome to join us anytime you like," Bren offered.

"I think I just like hearing about it, actually," Sandi said as we all broke out laughing.

"Well, I guess all we can do now on a practical level is wait, be patient and hope they return it," I said.

"Yeah, but at least you know the other stuff she said about the reading was true!" Sandi's Mom blurted out.

"Yeah, at least we know that," I softly agreed and drifted off in disturbed thought.  The mirror was growing clearer, the torrential river now surged through the chasm.  In my mind's eye, I peered down into the Canyon yet again and saw it growing, its pace, its breadth, its depth.  It was uncontrolled, unfocused, only the gorge controlled its destiny.  I looked up toward the group and sullenly replied, "Yeah, at least we know that..."

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