� �What� �s it like being a spiritual person?� � Joe persisted.

Pulling in more wind than the sailboat could balance, I purposely tipped over the catamaran to avoid the question. I was determined to dampen my friend� �s insistence that I was somehow different from other people. Yet despite my avoidance maneuvers, I sailed smack into my destiny that afternoon.

A new friend and construction worker by trade, Joe had invited me to go sailing on a sparkling pure body of water called Newfound Lake in New Hampshire. At the time, I didn� �t realize the prophetic import of the lake� �s name. Surrounded by the vibrant green of sturdy pinewoods and the steel-blue of soaring granite peaks, the lake filled me with a sense of awe and peace. The calm gave no warning of the changing life currents Joe was about to innocently introduce into my life.

A very unusual exposure molded Joe as a child. He attended one of the few remaining schools in the United States� �called � �Boston Latin� �� �that still taught the Ancient Greek language, as opposed to the modern version of the language. Joe read the Iliad, Odyssey and other compelling Greek writings in the original language in which they were penned. He lived and breathed the Greek myths in their primal power without the loss of intended meaning from multiple translations. He possessed a vast warehouse of wisdom of direct transmission from the Greeks.

Philosophers of the antique world expressed very subtle states of mind and being, especially concerning diverse shades of reality, truth, love, relationships and human nature. The early Greeks had terms and concepts for which we have no words or adequate translation in English. Joe also devoured all the stories� �in their original Latin� �about Roman gods and myths. As a result, Joe had a rare archaic and archetypal window through which to view the world.

All day on the boat, Joe kept asking me what it was like to be a � �spiritual� � person. From his line of questioning, I realized he was wrestling with understanding his own spiritual quest. He was trying to come to grips with how to begin his own inner journey. Joe felt he needed someone to help him step onto the path. We met at a metaphysical lecture, so he decided I was the person to help him sort everything out.

I was trying to stay incognito at the time, revealing my metaphysical side only to my closest friends� �and only when severely pressed. I had all kinds of � �really good� � reasons why I was reluctant to call myself � �spiritual.� � All my reasons were actually rationalizations� �frantic, futile attempts to cover up and postpone the true majesty and mystery of my own divine destiny.