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Morocco is a Rainbow

Traveling is so important for the soul. It enhances my senses and broadens my connection to the human family. As I make plans for 2014, I have been reflecting on past travel experiences.



Morocco is a Rainbow

By Linda Fletcher

Traveling to different parts of the world or to
different parts of the country broadens our scope of
reality. If we are open minded and receptive we can
experience the spiritual dimensions of travel - in
that not only do our physical body travel but also our
soul.

As I grow older I find myself adding up remembered
events, places, people, and experiences that remain in
the recesses of my mind. I conjure up these past
pleasures, enlightened insights, lessons that enhanced
- changed or moved my life further into being who I
am. I have been thinking a lot about travel and
realizing its depth and importance - in that ones
perspective becomes broadened - and new dimensions
open up.

Lately - I have become aware that I remember my travel
experiences the most - as if they were yesterday - and
in vivid details. Twenty years ago I traveled to
Morocco, and it was a beautiful soul awakening
experience. This experience remains permanently in my
gaze of remembered pleasant experiences. Morocco is a
place where for centuries the East has met the West. I
enjoyed meeting people not impressed by the West, and
living within their own tradition dating thousands of
years; in fact before the West came into existence.

The spiritual experience of the Sufis was everywhere -
a visual presence, and I could see how Rembrandt was
inspired by this part of the world. I could see the
rainbow everywhere within my gaze, and it reminded me
of Rembrandt's hidden rainbows beneath his famous
paintings that influenced Europe's enlightenment.
Many of the experiences that I had while in Morocco
are not easily describable within a western cultural
context; mainly because Morocco is ancient and
predates Europe. It is a very spiritual reality -
where souls are not static from consumerism, and the
population has evolved as a unit; as a genetic pool of
gradual variation.

I remember vividly the rich vibrant colors that were
constantly set in motion - in many shades of orange,
reddish earth tones, blues and browns, and the henna
dyed palms, hands and fingers, as the Moroccans went
through their daily activities. Also, I remember the
many smells of tangerines and spearmint. The rainbow
was apparent everywhere, and it seemed to be a part of
the culture - as a reminder that life is light, and
that color is reflected in many dimensions, and enters
into our very collective being. I could see everywhere
the shifting flow of colors reflecting from the sun's
radiant light, and the Moroccan people interacting
with colors, shape, light and form in their
environment enhanced by songs, chants, callings and
prayers.

I can remember riding on one of the local busses and
looking out the window, and seeing people wearing
colorful clothes that looked softly meshed, and
blended into the terrain. They looked as if they were
softly painted into their environment, as if painted
by a painter, as they wore coral and onyx jewelry, and
their hands and hair dyed with henna in beautiful
patterns of art. I saw sheepherders blending into the
terrain. I did not want to speak English. I felt as if
it would be an intrusion upon this sacred space and
moment, and I did not want to influence this North
African culture with westernism.

I can remember an old Arab man stretching out, as if
he was stretching out to God, and the open spaces
around him, relaxing and smoking hashish. I walked
through the Atlas Mountains and I saw stars in the sky
that seemed so close - but yet distant. I felt ancient
wisdom all around me, and this old Arabic man said to
me when I told him that I was an African American,
that, "the African American was the soul of America",
as he laid stretched out under the stars.

I can still feel the aura of Tangier, Marrakech,
Rabat, Tifni, and the many veils of serenity in shades
of black and deep blue indigo. I can never forget the
smiles of the Berbers. I remember dozing off on a bus
ride; waking up, and seeing Arabic man smiling at me;
as if he had been guarding my sleep with prayer and
meditation.

But the most important lesson that I learned is that
we can learn and teach through our eyes. I learned the
art, and the many lessons of seeing each other softly
and with warm contentions. I learned that the eyes can
teach us about life, and the many truths that lay
before us waiting to be unfolded through ones' gaze
upon the horizon, and within the souls of others. We
can witness life through vision aided and enhancement
by sight and smell.

I met people that communicated starting from
similarity rather than from differences. I felt that I
was experiencing high culture, and part of a massive
domain of space, sight, sound, and smell. I felt the
embrace of Islam in its splendor, and that there was
poetry to its existence. I saw poetry as the women and
men worked. They moved like sculpture gliding in union
with the physical environment. Through the display of
cultural beauty and art - the culture of the Moroccan
people touched my soul with their flow of gentle
meditative energy, that moved from one person to
another like a gentle sea.

I looked into their eyes, and I saw unity of
similarity flowing through time, and that genetics had
united them - through the soft glow in their deep dark
eyes. Reality seemed to be laid bare with no
pretenses. I feel honored in experiencing this culture
and this place in time. I felt a glimpse of their
spiritual haven. It made me feel the indefiniteness of
time, space, and spirituality, and that Morocco is a
place to rest ones soul indefinitely in time.




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