11/12  Masada, Jordan

12 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.

11/12 Masada, Jordan

I convinced Jenni to take another day trip, this time to visit Masada.  At the bus depot it was like joining a herd of sheep.  If there was a terrorist attack it would not be good.  Jenni kept reminding me of that.  Alongside the Dead Sea and after passing a few scattered Bedouin camps I found myself wondering how far it was to the next tree.  Masada was a magnificent plateau in the middle of nowhere.  It’s hard to understand why anybody would be motivated to conquer its walls unless motivated by pride.  We followed a few tours to get some verbiage and history, wandered about the site and took in the view.  There was still enough of the day left after returning from Masada to visit the Dome of the Rock.  The entire plateau was littered with military personnel toting machine guns.  That wasn’t a conformable place to loiter.

So there it is it, the central domino, one of the common links between religions.  Many prophets have come; many prophets have left words of truth.  “Wrought in a sad sincerity, himself from God he could not free”.  There is no wall in the soul where man’s effect ceases and God’s cause begins, we are one.  Is the soul individual in its nature or are we all one in God?  Religions should acknowledge that they are not equal to the whole of truth.  Those are the voices which we hear in solitude, the wind, like words calling to me.  Everything is more beautiful because we are mortal, because it must end.  I see Hell more as a concept constructed within man’s own fear.  Can evil manifest itself in true knowledge?  If that knowledge is not embraced after death then that existence is Hell, the segregation from the true nature of God.  Perhaps Hell is being an angel and having to listen to all of our thoughts.

I don’t believe in death as an ending but rather a new beginning,
this time where we are now separated, we begin to reminisce and value the time we had spent together,
enriching our reunion

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    Usually behind a cup of coffee waiting for the world around me to wake up I entered today’s thoughts about yesterday’s activities into my travel journal. I’m not a writer, so I’ll apologize in advance if I jump around or seem confused. These are just the thoughts of a young man who left his possessions behind and who believes that getting lost is how one finds oneself.

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