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Article ID: 15220

VoxAcct: 346850

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Age Group: Adult

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The Cosmos In the Coffee Shop

Author: Loetree
Posted: January 27th. 2013
Times Viewed: 2,371

I had been sequestered in my house, reading, writing, reading, taking care of kids, reading, painting, reading, etc. Today, my wife was off from work and she was entertaining the kids so I decided to take advantage and go for a walk to Starbucks.

I am in the process of compiling notes from stuff I had been reading, so I went to Starbucks with the intention of being out in public, but being alone at the same time. The books I had with me were Graham Hancock’s The Message of the Sphinx, and Knight and Butler’s Civilization One.

The two are interrelated in subject in that Hancock is breaking down the evidence that shows the true age of the sphinx and the marvel of the advanced intelligence that obviously existed before the era that current academia claims was the starting point of civilization, and the Knight and Butler book discusses how the ancient measurement systems employed in the building of sacred sites shows that ancient people had a handle on astronomy and geodetics, and how the size of our planet, and the moon, and sun are all there in the archaeology.

So – I walked over to Starbuck’s in the Waimea mist, thinking to myself how fortunate I was to be alive and connected to the Greater Consciousness, and how amazing our planet is, and so on.

I ordered a large drip coffee of the day and went to find a place to camp out. The lounge area was pretty empty. There was one girl studying a fat textbook. It looked like biology. I chose a spot against the wall in the opposite corner from the student and started to get myself situated.

I suddenly got the impression that this was the “crazy person’s spot”. I don’t have anything to base that on. It was just an impression that I got. So I moved two spots over to the center of the bench seat against the wall. I got out my two books and notebook and started doing my thing. It was nice to be out. People were coming and going.

At one point it was pretty busy. There was a small group of young people that were obviously in a choir. There was a jovial buxom girl that occasionally broke into bits of operatic singing, which delighted the four boys she was with. I heard snippets of music talk. It made me remember youthful days in choirs with all the extrovert girls and my gay friends.

Michal, an organic farmer acquaintance came in. I smiled at him and he totally didn’t respond. Then I remembered that I had just cut my hair short and shaved my beard and mustache. He didn’t recognize me.

A tall man came in. I would guess he was in his seventies. His silver hair was cut in a youthful way that made him look like a musician, or artist, or scientist dude. He saw the line at the counter and came into the lounge area. He put his little leather briefcase down at the corner spot where I first sat.

As I went on with my notes I heard his exchange with the barrista. He said something “cosmic and wholistic” that got my lackluster approval. Coming back to the corner spot with his coffee, he sat down and pulled out a stack of papers with math equations all over them. Looking over little reading glasses, he launched into his work.

Then a tall dark haired woman in her sixties came in and squeezed in between the math man and me. She made some comment about how she liked that particular spot because it gave her good reception for her computer. I smiled and nodded. The math guy said it was fine because he could tell she was a nice person. They exchanged a few niceties like how fortunate she was to get that spot because now she would receive “all the answers”. Polite smiles all around.

She logged on. He did his math. I was thumbing through books and jotting notes. Suddenly she asked me what I was reading. I told her I was reading about measurements used in ancient sacred sites and their derivation from cosmic and geodetic information. She saw my other book with the Sphinx on the cover and told me she was originally from Cairo.

At the mention of measurements, the man looked up and said, “What is a measurement?”

He said it with the air of a professor starting a talk with a rhetorical question. I stayed silent. She asked him what he meant. And he launched into a soliloquy about the philosophical nature of measurements, numbers, and the nature of reality.

I thought to myself, “Yup- crazy person’s seat.”

She was getting a little frustrated by his esoteric approach which didn’t jive with her apparently more practical world views. She said she didn’t believe that cosmic spacemen built the pyramids or anything like that. She turned away from him and started talking to me about artifacts from Egypt, and how marvelously preserved were the bits of rope she had seen in the museum and so on.

I made some comments on the controversial dating of the pyramids. Math man perked up again. He asked if we knew the angle of the pyramids and I said that I did, not realizing it was another of the professor’s rhetorical questions. Then I responded with some comment about resonant frequencies of the earth expressed in the Great Pyramid’s measurements at which point, the woman pulled her computer closer to her as if to shut us out as we volleyed back and forth in front of her.

He said, “What do you think of the number 7?”

I said something back to him about the musical octave, energy chakras, and the color spectrum. That caused him to stand up, grab his paper, pens, and calculator, and moved to the other side of me. He shoved my backpack aside and slid in next to me.

“What’s the number of the I Ching?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh yes you do. What is it?”

I remembered something I had read. “64.”

“Right!” he says as he starts drawing a sequence of hexagrams on the paper. He started punching numbers into the calculator and going on about yin and yang, light and matter, binary computer language, and the qualities of the number 7, 11, 13, etc. My first response to all this was that he was psycho and noticed I was in a defensive posture.

Then- while he was going on about the hexagrams and what not, I realized I was trapped at my table in Starbuck’s in between an Egyptian woman and some cosmic number savante. I saw that the universe had delivered unto me exactly what I was vibing.

So I turned to face him more, which made me, get physically a little closer to the woman on my other side, and I decided to fully experience this moment. I relaxed my body and looked right into his eyes, trying to feel his energy, and it was on!

We talked about DNA, the Tzolkin, musical tones, spectral light frequencies, prime numbers, the Iching, the periodic table of elements, tetrahedral geometry, meditation and the power of understanding. Wow!

A lull in the talk occurred. Tranquility. I liked him. I asked him what he did. He said he used to be a teacher and now he crafted things, studied things. He was calm now. The woman chimed in at this point and sarcastically asked where he taught. He stayed silent. I answered, “Starbuck’s…obviously”

I told him I was a cook. He nodded like he understood.

He said, “I get it. Ingredients…” and he made a gathering motion with his hands. From that point on, he called me chef, which was weird, since I said I was a cook. We chatted quietly for a few minutes.

He recommended a book to me so I flipped open my notebook to jot it down. My notebook happened to open to a page that had the Fibonacci numbers written on it, along with some notes on the ratio “Phi”. On the opposite page was a line drawing of a cube with some info about the megalithic inch.

It was like accidentally dropping a bindle of coke in front of a tweeker. He compulsively grabbed the book from me and started in about the properties of hydrogen and other noble gases. He started writing numbers and drawing circles and vesici pisces. He was back into it again. I calmly reached over, took my notebook back and closed it with a smile. We exchanged names and he went back to his seat.

I told the Egyptian woman that I figured I came there today to meet him, and I thanked her, since without her opening question to me, none of that would have happened. She told me then that she was a hairdresser from Los Angeles that had just moved here. She asked if I had a card. I gave her my last calling card.

She admired my card and said she was trying meet new friends and clients. She rummaged in her bag for a bit but couldn’t find one of her cards, so she wrote her number and the name of her salon on the back of my card, and handed it back to me, which seemed slightly ironic. I said good-bye to my two new friends and left.

As I walked back home in the swirling mist and drizzle, I marveled to myself about the last hour and a half of my life. It felt like the Universe had playfully driven home the importance of all those subjects, and also the triviality of them at the same time. I’ve been back there several times hoping to run into either of them again, but thus far, have not. Oddly, I cannot find the card with her info on it.

As time goes by, I am feeling more and more like those two weren’t even real people, but rather some kind of synchronous holographic manifestation of Spirit sent to make me think about things in a different light. At any rate, it was an interesting afternoon at the coffee shop.



Location: Kamuela, Hawaii

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