Sword of Aquarius
a romantic political tragedy novel by Rolf A. F. Witzsche
Volume 7 of the 12-volume series, The Lodging for the Rose

Page 75
Chapter 11 - Return to Oymyakon.

      To our great surprise many of the Russian people were able to understand these complex issues, even among the ordinary people. We spoke at union meetings, in factory meeting halls, at town meetings set up in schools, in farming communities, we even spoke in a barn once, and more than once we spoke in a pub. We also spoke to academics and university students, often even on a one to one basis, and sometimes in meetings to which thousands came to hear us. We also spoke to high-ranking officials who had the power to shape the nation's policies. Some would argue. Most people, however, would credit what we said. The only thing that we could not tell, was, whether our efforts had made any difference on the global scale.

      In the small domain of our private living, those six weeks working together, traversing Russia from one end to the other, had made a tremendous difference. It had elevated us in the way we regarded each other. We had become enriched by the sublime moments of joy that unfold beyond the sensual and ecstatic moments into a higher and more permanent inner peace, and also for the simple fact that we were making a difference. We were enriching people. We were uplifting their thinking with a higher and justified hope and an advanced understanding of their world and their own status as human beings. In those moments we were touching the sublime.

      Against the background of this enriching environment our first days together in Leipzig, in Cozumel, and afterwards in Moscow, that lay more than a dozen years in the past, appeared now like the first footsteps of a child in the newly discovered world of the sublime. Although those times had never been fully forgotten, our feelings over the years had been more and more influenced by activities on the professional level. Now, our six weeks in Russia had renewed all the old affections from the days when our love had just began and the world was bright in the bewildering sunshine of its unfolding.

      That renewal had already begun during our first night in the submarine. It had brought us face to face with the old and forever new frontier of a profound and ever expanding flow of love. Love had become a river. It had become a contest of who we could brighten one another's day in the most honest and most profound manner. There was even something special in the way we looked at each other now, which happened at first quite unintentionally. Soon we would share beds again. That too, happened quite naturally. It begun right in the submarine without anyone noticing it. This gentle unfolding was interrupted, of course, in the captain's home in Murmansk, but nothing did hinder it thereafter. We experienced intimacies beyond intimacies as we embraced the whole world at the same time with our love, that made us richer thereby and more deeply at one. Also, in this cherished union there were never any closed doors towards Nina or anyone else who aspired to join that union of hearts. The land of the sublime, the land beyond the sensual and ecstatic, isn't reached easily, nor is found behind closed doors.


      By the time our work in Russia was done, the world had changed somewhat. Russia had changed. We were able to travel home the normal way. Russia's iron curtain had been lifted once again so that the captain's services were no longer needed to get us back. Naturally, we wondered if our work had accomplished this. Ushi was certain that it had.

      There was nothing 'normal' between Ushi and myself in the conventional sense. It was certainly apparent that our excitement with living had been felt by others too, who had not become blind to the beauty of our common humanity. The time we had spent in Russia had been a revolutionary time that was revolutionary even for us. It seemed as if I had never known Ushi before in the way I came to know her in Russia. She was as beautiful in body and as a person, as she was passionate in her love for humanity and for all that is human. Perhaps, being in Russia had made us more sensitive to each other, by becoming more sensitive towards other people than we had ever been before. Also, our commitment to enrich each other's life, which had become intertwined with our love, had somehow enhanced this. With Ushi, each new day had unfolded another facet of the art of just living, of being sensitive to the beauty of life, and to the strength of humanity. Ushi was not unlike Antonovna in this regard. I could certainly see why Nicolai had loved Antonovna so much. Still, Ushi and I had stepped beyond even that. Even Erica's metaphor of the flower garden, in respect to the social dimension, was becoming understood in Russia. There developed an openness in this context that became quite enriching. Perhaps, also our fight for life itself, to protect all what is human, made us more sensitive to the magic and beauty of life, which had become a focal point in this inevitable process that had unfolded like a great and silent renaissance.


      When the time of our return drew near, it seemed less and less important to me to see any direct evidence of our success. A confidence had come to the surface that the success of what we had set in motion would be inevitable. Also, my feelings for Ushi were intertwined with all of this, possibly so deep that they could never be separated from what we were fighting for. And why should they be?

      As I arrived home, this same feeling lingered and also encircled Sylvia in the same rich measure. Oh, something had changed all right in the world, something big had changed as if a new age had begun. Or was it just that our own world had changed? Perhaps something had been set into motion by us that had really affected those we had touched, something that might not end, by which the world as a whole becomes a brighter place to live in, in due course. This, at least, was my hope.

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