"
Suddenly he flipped off the light, and a fifteen-foot high ocotillo
shrub vanished.
"I don't perform miracles to show off my powers, but to expand
your view of reality. If my students can accept that I disappear,
just imagine what they will be capable of."
Though I was learning to fly on my wings of perception,
and though in the months after the Stelazine trip I continued
to deeply suppress part of my rational side, I never fully accepted
Rama's world in its entirety. I never accepted, for instance,
the story of "Rama and the Enchanted Taco." The Enchanted Taco,
Rama said, was an immense, luminous, and other-worldly treat.
It could be seen in the desert, hovering casually over mystical
power spots, garnished with divine light, knowledge, and guacamole.
But in a parking lot at four a.m., I saw Rama wave to three
hundred bleary-eyed disciples, get in a black Turbo Carrera,
and disappear.
16. Ride To Heaven
"I didn't do well enough to remember," wrote Donald Kohl in 1984.
"Bye, Rama, see you next time."
Months later, Donald's father called me. "Do you have a few minutes?"
he asked. I knew that Rama would not want me to talk with Mr. Kohl.
But I was shocked by the image of blood spurting from Donald's wrists.
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