When I meditated on the casual, diabolical way in which he pitted my brother against me, my understanding and forgiveness vanished. I tensed my gut and wrestled with a primal image. The water was red. I shuddered. I saw my brother clearly. He had an open, bleeding heart. I knew how that felt. I saw him treading water. There was no bottom. I knew how that felt too. A great white shark circled, rising effortlessly from the depths. I clenched my fists. There was nothing I could do. Dan could not hear me. I meditated on what had happened later that night, after Rama rooted his divisive legacy in my brother's mind. When Rama pointed his finger at me, I knew that he was trying to intimidate me. I also knew that he was trying to maintain some semblance of control. But I feared that he might be a sorcerer. I intentionally visualized sparks and bolts of protective lightning radiating from the bicycle key. I understood that the colorful explosions were emanating from the world of my imagination. But that did not stop me from *seeing* them. The scene unfolding before me was, after all, not just another ending to a Castaneda book. It was real. And I needed all the inspiration I could generate. The meditations during the bicycle journey helped me comprehend and come to terms with an earlier journey. When I was sixteen, I sought fellowship, Truth, and that which lies beneath the "surface" world of reason. I came to believe that I could find these things by studying with a sorcerer in a desert in Mexico, by gazing at an underexposed photograph of a *fully* enlightened Indian man, and by following the etiquette of a warm, funny, brilliant, persona-flipping man with a Ph.D. in English. I later looked to Gandhi and to William Shirer for answers. But as I rode west from Concord, Massachusetts, I found a teacher inside myself, and the lessons worked for me. I learned that it is important not to follow someone blindly, even if he is truly childlike, humble, self-giving, and "Self-Realized"; even if he is a friend; and particularly if he is reluctant to openly admit that he can be seduced by his power over others. Genuine teachers encourage their students to question them throughout the *entire* apprenticeship, because genuine teachers accept their own imperfect human nature. I learned that it is important to balance the mystical with the rational. Meditation tends to open the mind to suggestion. The art of the mystic seems to be, therefore, to know when to let go, be spontaneous, and open up to the universe, and when to gain control, use the power of reason, and protect the body, mind, and soul.