Monday, 28 December 2015

Chapter 13 - "The Way to Nowhere" - preceding chapters may be accessed by clicking on "November" in the Archives to the right side of the page, then choosing the chapter required.

Chapter 13

Man is a machine,  but a very peculiar machine. He is a machine which under the right circumstances and with the right treatment can know that he is a machine

                                                                                P.D. Ouspensky

Sufism and Subud

Following the Talks at Brockwood Park, which I was to attend for the next nine years, I drove with new-found friends to the south of France in a Renault 4 belonging to Pauline to take part in the vendange, the grape-picking harvest. We camped on the beach at Port Leucate and soon after we had pitched the tent there was a tremendous thunderstorm which occurred right above our heads and water cascaded upon the tent, completely soaking us. Fortunately a German couple had parked their camper van nearby and helped us to dry out.

We spent the next three weeks in the vineyards, labouring in the fields and struggling to keep up with the Spanish workers who kept up a back-breaking pace. Every day we were given a bottle each of the local Corbieres wine and used it mostly in our cooking in our small canteen.,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

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