THE STORY OF HARA’S QUEST
 
About Me
The 11 songs on Hara's Quest relate the high points of Hara's long journey to rediscover her visionary powers.
 
The first six segments of the Life Quest column will tell the story of Hara's life-changing travels. Within the text of the story, links will guide you to the appropriate lyrics, graphics, text or music.
Dolphin Dream
 
 
Hara;s Quest
  Hara's Quest:  The Story
© Barbara Lewis 1997 
  [part one]  
 
 The year is 2033.  
  
     One of San Francisco's darkest periods is nearing an end.  In the era of hope rediscovered, the businesses of the Energy Readers, San Francisco's post-war prophets, are thriving. 
 
     Visitors to the state-of-the-art offices dotting the harbor seek advice about intimate loves and hatreds, lost family members, past lives and debts long past due. 
     Hara wants her energies to be analyzed for another reason altogether.  She feels she is possessed. 
     Folding her long body into the lushness of an Ergo Chair, she immediately feels the embrace of electricity and the release of a warm fragrant mist. Hara closes her eyes for a moment and then speaks. The austere, impassive Energy Reader transfers the essence of her words to a symbol book, which is linked to a large monitor. 
     Perched bird-like on a stool, the Reader studies the symbols as they appear on the monitor. As Hara reveals her innermost thoughts and feelings, beautiful bursts of color and light drift across the indigo-stained screen. Only the Reader can understand the patterns. She watches for several minutes then reassures Hara that she is not possessed. But there is reason to be vigilant. 
     "You are about to make a momentous decision," the Energy Reader declares. 
     Hara leaves the fragrant room, now knowing she must face up to her recurring dream. 
     Hara recalls the images in her dream that have materialized during more than 200 nights of sleep. She is clear on the details because they tell a simple story: 
     A boat on a heaving ocean carrying many fearful people. 
     Black clouds lift and winds die. There, glowing on the water, is an island with a tower of light. 
 In her dream, Hara is ecstatic as she drinks in the beauty and peace of the island.  She knows this is her true home and that she must journey there - at any cost. 
     By day, the dream is Hara's closest companion. It sits in front of her eyes like the face of a beloved. But each morning, upon awakening, Hara is troubled. She senses there is much more to the dream than she can remember. She vaguely recalls the transient presence of dark figures, but sharper definition is elusive. 
 
Hara's Quest:  The Story © 
  
 [part two]  
 
     The War of Gods, so long and brutal, has left millions dead and many more homeless. The survivors inhabit a planet of searchers. They long for new lives, new beliefs. 
      A battered refuge from the storm, San Francisco's harbor buckles under the weight of a great human influx.
Hara stands apart from the masses on the moon-lit dock, near the far end of the harbor. She gazes up at the enormous ship that she has chosen to carry her far out to sea - to the South Pacific, with its countless mysterious islands, and beyond.
 
      In the eerie glow of night, Hara can barely see, and only faintly hear, groups of people standing on the ship's prow. Leaning forward, she strains to tease out the conversations, only to be startled by the shadowy figure of a woman standing several feet away. She, too, is looking at the silhouetted boat. 
      The woman turns suddenly. Her questioning eyes meet Hara's. "Where will this boat take you?" she demands. 
      Confused by the woman's unaccountable arrival, Hara is tentative. I'm going on a long journey, she says. "I am trying to find home." 
      For a moment, the woman stares out to sea. Then, turning to leave, she asks: "Is home really so far away?" 
      With that, she disappears into the darkness. The boat is silent except for the dull roar of the ship's engine. 
      Hara has been sailing for seven days, watching the ocean and keeping the vision of her dream island alive in her mind's eye. On the eighth day, she allows herself some respite and walks down to the ship's viewing room. 
      People are standing in clusters, speaking in hushed but energetic tones. Several hold digital maps that blink and sparkle as the travelers' fingers point to promising destinations. 
      Those in the group nearest Hara are absorbed by an old woman's tale about her abduction by an alien: 
      "...He touched my head. My eyes were burning. My body rose high. I woke to find crystals in my eyes. My sight was new! And then I smelled the ocean and the salty wind. I saw a ship sailing on the sea. It was calling to me..." 
      The old woman pauses dramatically to unfasten her snow-white, waist-length hair that tumbles down like a syrupy cloud. With no warning, the sky flames with lightening, ending her story. 
      Just as Hara is about to walk to a window, she feels a presence at her left shoulder and a warm hand traveling up her spine. Turning, she catches a glimpse of an animal-like face with distinctly human eyes. 
      Is the boat haunted? 
  
Hara's Quest:  The Story © 
  
 [part three]  
      At midnight, Hara is awakened by a high-pitched sound. Her instinct is to leave her room to investigate. Bathed in moonlight, the prow of the boat is deserted as Hara walks to the railing. 
      Staring into the water, she makes out the shadowy shapes of three dolphins swimming nearby. The animals cry out to her. To her surprise, Hara feels the urge to join them. Instead, she is enveloped by a mist that holds her to the ship's prow. Hara sees round and smooth faces, and hears deep, resonant voices.  
      The entities in the mist call to her. 
      "Trust in us..." 
      "We shall hold you in truth. . ." 
      "We shall open your seven centers of self. . ." 
      "We shall prepare you for the hereafter. . ." 
      "Give us your life and we shall give you your freedom. . ."  
      Moments later, the mist dissipates, taking with it the ethereal voices. 
      Hara watches the heads of the dolphins as they swim away from the boat. She feels a great emptiness, but does not know why. 
      One thing is certain. Hara knows she has changed. 
 
SIX YEARS LATER
 
Jakarta, Indonesia 
 
      For six years, Hara has sailed the oceans aimlessly, having forgotten the original purpose of her journey. 
      One day, her ship, a fishing vessel, docks at the ancient city of Jakarta. Jobless again, Hara visits a teeming marketplace where thousands of brightly-colored shops are grouped in circles. They radiate like water ripples from a tossed stone.  
      In a shop with blue walls, Hara observes a man who is seated, having electrodes taped to his temples. Connected to the electrodes is a computer, its display reading, Lost Land of Hope. 
      Hara leaves the shop quietly and stops at a nearby rose-colored kiosk. After reading the small lighted sign at the door, she enters. Soon she lies naked in a vanilla-fragrant room, waiting for a heated oil massage. 
      A dark man enters and begins to knead her skin with a variety of finely-textured fabrics. He mists the air with essences of vanilla, jasmine and peppermint. Leans down to Hara, his breath warm on her cheek, he whispers in her ear. . .  
      Then Hara falls into her deepest sleep in six years. 
      The next day, at market's edge, Hara stops to sort through a box of odds and ends. She discovers an old gilt-framed mirror. Staring into it, she notices a group of faces, round and smooth, behind her head. The scene pulls deeply at her memory as she feels stirrings from the past. 
      Day by day, Hara senses the contours of her mindscape continuing to revise as memories return. 
      Seeking tranquillity, she journeys to the Indonesian countryside and climbs up the well-worn path of a tall mountain. Distant are the sounds of gamelan music. Near the mountaintop's rim, Hara looks out, eyes scanning, until her gaze comes to rest on a massive temple. Beside it stands a tower.  
      Hara feels a sudden chill, and a woman appears at her side. She too looks out at the remote structure, then speaks. "It is ancient and very mysterious," she says. 
      Hara's eyes remain locked on the tower. "It reminds me of something from my past," she whispers. 
      "With the sun aglow, the tower looks like a beacon of light," the woman replies. 
      At that Hara feels a ball of heat release from her feet and rush up her body. A powerful memory strikes her heart and explodes into blazing images: 
       The island.
 
               The tower.
 
                      The radiant light.  
Hara remembers her long forgotten dream!
 
      The following morning, Hara visits the temple she had viewed from the mountain. 
      As she stands on the steps in the shadow of the great tower, images from the past continue their homecoming. And with the rediscovery of her purpose, years of tension drain from her body. 
      Hara wonders, "Was my dream stolen from me? Why did I let it go? What does it mean?" 
      People file past her, cupping their hands and bowing.  
      Later, when she stands with others before a large mandala, she feels the hot energy of its intricate patterns. 
      One of the men in the group speaks to her: "This mandala is a great puzzle." 
      "Yes," Hara answers, "but the pattern becomes quite clear if you wait for it to settle in your mind." 
      "Do you see something there?" the man asks eagerly.  
      "I see the ocean growing over the planet," Hara says with unusual conviction. 
      The man appraises her with respectful eyes. "You must possess a unique gift." 
      People in the temple approach Hara.  
 
 
Hara's Quest:  The Story © 
[part four] 
 
TWO YEARS LATER
 
An isolated island in the South Pacific
      The leader of the island's native population has heard of Hara's dreamquest and of her special gifts. 
      "The past is important to our daily lives," he says, smiling warmly. "We find answers there." 
      Hara, thinking of her own history, replies: "There is still a mystery in my life after many years of searching." 
      Hara looks up at the deep-socketed eyes of century-old stone monoliths, famous on the leader's island, as they stare out to sea. 
      It was on this lonely piece of barren land where Hara first sought refuge from would-be followers captivated by her visions. Now, in the presence of the silent giants, Hara feels the past slip around her like a gossamer net, still confining yet lighter. 
      The island leader looks at her thoughtfully, senses her renewal and offers a special invitation: "Tomorrow, the islanders will celebrate their past with a sacred ceremony. They would like you to attend." 
      The next day, Hara meets the island leader at the base of an ancient mountain. 
      "We have never before invited an outsider to enter our deepest cave," he says. "It is a holy place and very difficult to reach." 
      Hara looks into the narrow tunnel and senses that it will enclose her body like a stone glove. Her heartbeat quickens. 
      Fighting the fear, she climbs in feet first to discover that she can comfortably maneuver down the shaft. Arms extended overhead, she advances inch by inch. Time slows down. Hara hears blood pounding in her head.  
      At times her forehead grazes rock. The darkness is absolute; even her inner light, usually so fervent, flickers momentarily.  
      Then fear speaks: Perhaps the tunnel will never end. Perhaps the endless passage will be her tomb.  
      Now deep inside the tunnel, she turns a corner. Her feet feel the wall's sharp curve. A hand grasps her ankle and pulls her toward the mountain's distant hollowed core. Another hand holds her wrist and pulls her back up the tunnel.  
      An old withered face appears to Hara. Its sly approach from the blackness of the rock above her head is startling. Her body is stretched even tighter.  
      "You must commit fully to one direction," the entity commands.  
      Hara feels the silky wet touch of yet another presence as it brushes her hands. She decides to go forward. Her wrist and ankle are freed immediately.  
      The islanders greet Hara in the vast stone room at the end of the tunnel. They are impressed when they hear her story about the entities she encountered.  
      "Most people go back if a face appears," the island leader tells Hara. He then signals the start of the ceremony.  
      Women begin to sing. Men stomp their feet. The leader motions Hara to stand in the center of the circle. "The newcomer will dance first," he says.  
      Hara moves slowly and rhythmically. Then she finds herself twirling, running, and leaping. Sounds echo around her. 
      As she dances, Hara becomes conscious of the drawings and carvings on the cave's walls. She makes out half-human, half-bird figures, wild faces and sketches tracing journeys to the sea and stars. Right above her, etched in the ceiling, is a carving of a trio of dolphins. Her eyes fix on a triangle scratched above each head. 
      Hara stops dancing. She has a powerful need to close her eyes.  
      In her mind's eye she sees an island -her dream island- with a tower of light. In the distance, three figures begin to form. Closer and closer they come, revealing themselves to her. 
      Hara is breathless and joyful. At last she has recovered the missing part of the dream that has eluded her all these years: The dark figures in her dream were dolphins!  
      The three dolphins circle the island and disappear into the vast ocean.
  
 
 
Hara's Quest:  The Story © 
[part five]
 
SEVERAL YEARS LATER
 

      Hara has been swimming. Now, she lies lazily on the warm sand and looks vacantly out to sea. The sun is high, the sky cloudless. 
      From out of nowhere, it seems, an old woman walks towards her. Hara wonders if her eyes are deceiving her.
      "I am here for only a brief time and I wanted to meet you," the old woman says.
      "Are you a traveller?" Hara asks.
      "I have travelled farther than most," the woman replies. "I am here because you have an important question to ask."
      Hara's eyes meet the woman's. Her initial wariness subsides.
      "I need directions to an island," Hara replies. "It is an island with a

tower of light, where many dolphins play."
      The woman sits next to Hara, her eyes bright and inquiring. "Is it so

important that you find this island?"
      "Yes, I have dreamed about it many times," says Hara. "I believe it is my true home."
      The woman leans closer. "There is a lullaby that is sung to those who have trouble with their dreams. Would you like to hear it?"
      Hara nods in agreement, and then closes her eyes.
 
LYRICS FOR Lullaby For A Deep Sleep (listen)
You lie here in my arms. 

Your head upon my thigh. 

I look upon your face, I stroke your brow. 

Your lips begin to move. 

The words pour out and float like ribbons in the wind. 

They float away. 

 

These words, your song. 

A life that must be told. 

A life that must let go. 

 

I'll hold you and caress you as you dream your dream. 

Hold you and caress you in these silver hours. 

Hold you close and listen to your final words. 

Let them go. 
If you have lies. 

If you have secrets. 

If you have promises unkept, 

let them go. 
If you were unloved. 

If you were abandoned. 

If you had all the gifts this world can give, 

let them go. 
Let them float upon the currents into shore. 

Let your body give itself to evermore. 

Let the perfume of this world take your limbs and make them weightless. 

Let them go. 

 

You lie here in my arms. 

Your head upon my thigh. 

I watch you as you float away from shore. 

I let you go. 
 
 
 
Hara's Quest:  The Story ©
[part six] 
      Twilight. Her eyes barely open, Hara floats on salty water close to shore. In the fading light, a mist forms above her head, then smoothly reconfigures to reveal human faces, pasty and drawn. 
      Hara feels the water rocking her, carrying her farther out to sea. Voices emerge from the mist: 
"Power," they intone. 
"The power of inner vision. . ." 
"The power of infinite search. . ." 
"The power of truth. . ." 
"The power to offer light. . ." 
"The power to lead. . ." 
"Come. . ." 
"Trust us. . ." 
      As Hara strains to listen, something smooth and sleek caresses her back. It lifts her two arms into the air. 
      Dolphins. 
      Their high-pitched sounds drown out the voices from the mist. 
      Hara attends to her body, and only it. To the foreign skin pressed against her own. To the primeval urge calling her back to ancient times. 
      The three dolphins-the same animals she first encountered in the dream that launched her on this long journey-surround her. Playful and light-spirited, they press their supple bodies against her's. 
      The mist sinks to rejoin the ocean. 
      Hara follows the dolphins into the ocean depths. Seawater streams against the whites of her eyes like a baby's first tears. She turns gently in the water as her attendants ride closer to the brink, deeper into the past. 
      Pressure pounds against her ears and chest. Hara cries out but her words form bubbles in the voluminous ocean. Salty water infuses her delicate form. She exhales her short human history and feels her limbs go limp. 
      The dolphins respond by gently transfusing her body with the weight of their ancestral breath. Hara revives and is ready to resume the journey to her past. 
      There still are no humans. There are only possibilities in the fragments of the stars, which eventually reassemble in the tide pools. In good time, the moon will pull them onto shore. 
      Hara's own form has changed. She has no eyes yet, in the great void, she can see her watery cradle as it begins to rock. She has no ears yet she hears the sounds of creatures that will become birds, insects, reptiles and mammals. 
      Hara is all of them. 
      Now she tumbles through a broad coiling tunnel, past the tides of past and future, the building and the unbuilding, the doing and the undoing. 
      The dolphins too are drawn into this vortex. 
      Magically, the time-travel that Hara is experiencing slows to reveal the present. The cool and furious whirlwind is now a humid and gentle breeze. And there are multitudes of dolphins moving smoothly through the azure water, swimming towards an island. 
      Like a ghost, Hara rides in their wake, curious to look in on future generations. 
      In the distance she sees a tower of light, shining brightly. Hara stares at her dream island as though she is looking through a thousand wonder-filled eyes. 
      The world is quiet. There are only the dolphins, the ocean, the island, the tower. 
      When the scene comes into sharp view, Hara is taken by surprise. Can this be the place that has haunted her waking and sleeping life for so many years? 
      Suddenly, the ocean water seems to come alive with vibrations. Hara's phantom feet pulsate in response. Then she is struck with a force that could tear a living body apart. 
      She is catapulted into space. As she is launched into the stars, Hara looks down and finally understands the astonishing truth about her quest! 
      She had foreseen this future. . . 
 
      400 YEARS LATER 
      San Francisco has become a solitary island. 
      The city's great pyramid tower, the landmark that had haunted Hara's dreams, now beams its lonely solar light into the vastness of space. 
      The dolphins stay on to play. . . 
      . . .while humans power their visions and quests to new worlds. 
Notes from the writer: 
      It was a video on the predictions of Nostradamus, a sixteenth-century French physician and astrologer, that gave me the idea that Hara's dream would reflect a projection about the future of her home city, San Francisco. 
      After learning about the accuracy of some of Nostradamus's visions, I wondered whether divining the future had more to do with the ability to see deeply into the present than with some other kind of "magical" power. 
      While a young woman, Hara saw the future only in her dreams. It took her a lifetime of travel and learning to understand that her dream island was what her home city would become 400 years into the future. 
      Some present-day geologists have suggested San Francisco could, in the future, become an island. As far as I know, they have not suggested the world would become a globe of water with only a single strip of land rising above the sea. That is my invention for Hara's story. 
      Using San Francisco's pyramid-shaped Sun Life tower as the sole remaining landmark on the island was my husband's (Nicholas Regush's) idea. This tower, one of the most famous in the United States, has a futuristic look. Nicholas saw the tower being used as an enormous solar light-source that helped fuel the space ships that carried the last humans from Earth. 
 
Hara's Quest © is copyrighted by Barbara Lewis and Cutting Edge Productions. Use of it for sale or reproduction of any part of it without our permission is prohibited.