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Chapter 6 of "The Cleaners - An Adventure in Filth"

“The problems of filth are the solutions of cleaning.” The Cleaners

Over the next couple of weeks I attended regular meetings— or ‘exchanges’ as they called them— with the Cleaners. There was varied work, mostly cleaning, with discussions and practical exercises. Apparently, all this was designed to strengthen and deepen the faculty of ‘attention.’


Each exchange had an authentic feel. The more I participated, the more drawn to the details I became. There was a clear sense that much preparation had gone into everything, yet nothing was overcooked. There was freedom for things to adapt.


It was organic, a dance of colour and movement. I began to appreciate the wonderful energy that uncertainty brought. Though mindful that clarity of activity was equally important.


While the gradual immersion into the exchanges of the Cleaners stirred experiences and provided much material for thought, I was still suffering with the conundrum of Commonaim. What to do?


I contacted Rick with my question and sought a meeting. He suggested that my Samaritan, Mr Pasha, attend also. The following night we meet in the customary way.



“You see,” after explaining the details of the Board’s decision and my responsibilities in executing them, “I’ll have to finalise plans soon. My Board is in a hurry to consolidate. Is there any way I can help Commonaim transition to another company to continue the work of cleaning?”


Commonaim is irrelevant,” said Mr Pasha. What is important is that our work of cleaning continue in the TXU building.”


“Why the TXU?” I enquired.


Mr Pasha paused, silently pondering.


“I understand that Rick has spoken to you about Kel and her abilities,” he said. “The TXU, like Kel, are needed for our work here. You see, under special conditions, a community of like-minded, like-feeling and like-sensing Beings can concentrate a certain quality of energy in a specific place. This energy can be used for many purposes in the work of cleaning.”


He paused again, as if waiting to see whether I had gotten the gist of what he said.


“Is this what you mean by spiritual engineering?” I asked.


“In a way,” replied Rick. “You’ve heard the saying that ‘everything is in your head’— right? Wrong. Nothing is in your head. Everything is outside you— so outside you that you think it is inside. Try to understand. It is the key to what we do.”

I struggled to understand, and felt him trying to press further.


“Look. There are many communities and places around the world working in this way— as a beacon, as a transmitter. The technology is ancient, older than the human race. It serves an important purpose, particularly now as everything is accelerating. We must preserve it. All is at stake.”


I’d never heard Rick be so pointed or forceful. While I understood little, the urgency for cleaning, for continuing work in the TXU was clear. These men had more than earned my trust, and my brain was already working out a way to help them.


I thanked them both and said "Leave it to me."


But before we departed, Mr Pasha commanded, “Understand this, coming to a decision is the most difficult thing, but once taken, everything flows accordingly.”



For the next couple of days I pondered a great deal, trying to work out a way to help the Cleaners. No matter how hard I tried, I kept coming against the inevitable. If I didn’t execute the Board’s decision my job was on the line. If I did execute them, the Cleaners lost theirs.


Here I was, stuck in the middle, constantly going over every strategy and detail to come up with some alternative, but to no avail. The decision it seemed, was starring at me in the face— it was them or me!


By this stage I had begun to know Kel a little better — at least at the regular exchanges. I was conscious of being attracted to her and didn’t know why as she wasn’t my ‘type.’ But the more time I spent with her, the more comfortable I became.


I’d never felt this way about a woman. I was used to lusting after them. Once captured and played with, letting them go for the next one. There was always a next one.


The connection with Kel was different, and the things we shared in the short time we knew each other made me confident in calling her. I invited her over to catch-up for coffee but, in reality, I was hoping her presence might be a helpful distraction.

She came over, and we had coffee and chatted for a while. Our conversations seemed to always have a tint of humor and a little banter— we had a laugh.


She sensed that something was weighing on me and asked about it. I said that it was difficult to explain but I found myself with a decision to make, and either way it wouldn’t be pleasant.


“Why?” she asked curiously.


“Why what Kel?”


“Why is either outcome of your decision unpleasant?”


With a sad smile I replied, “I can’t have my cake and eat it too. One thing has to be sacrificed for another, and I don’t want to give either up.”

She looked at me for quite some time, starring into my eyes.


“Do you know the real meaning of sacrifice?” she said rhetorically. “It means less about ‘giving-up’ something and more about ‘offering’— making that something ‘sacred.’”


I was struck by what she said. I never thought about sacrifice in that way. ‘Offering’ is such a different action to ‘giving-up.’ When I give up something, a sense of loss accompanies it. But ‘offering’ —it gives to receive.


As I pondered, a strength of feeling entered, like a rush of joy. Suddenly, I knew I had already made the decision. The rest, as Mr Pasha said, would flow accordingly.


It was difficult to hide my elation in front of Kel. In rapture, I instinctively hugged her, not wanting to let her go. She didn’t let me go either. And as our faces slowly turned to each other, inhaling the same air, breathing the same breath, we became as if made of one piece.



The night we shared was unforgettable. I realized that I had never been intimate with anyone.


All of my sexual encounters were masturbation in disguise— coarse and mechanical— mimicking ritualized pornography that had educated my experience. The ‘high’ from orgasm only served as a release within a sea of erotica.


But with Kel, I wanted to know her, to see her, to feel her. And for that, I had to be there with her —not just in action, but truly alive to every movement, rhythm, and pulse. I felt her try too, and together, something more appeared.


This experience convinced me that hidden in the depths is a potency like no other. If approached with sensitivity and understanding, sexual energy, our creative energy, is able to open us to a different reality. I felt this reality with my Samaritan, with Rick, and now with Kel.

I caught a glimpse at the nature of cleaning, the work that this small group of men and women were undertaking. It was truly sacred.



I submitted my report to the Board and discussed it at their meeting. Deep inside the document was an inclusion of a ‘specialist service’ cleaning company to be contracted for the TXU building.


At first glance, it may not have been clear Commonaim would be the contractor. A closer inspection would have immediately revealed the intention and my non-compliance with the Board’s directions. As a result, it would have been highly likely for security to be instructed to 'frog-march' me straight out of the office.


Truth be known, there was a side of me that hoped it would be found.


Without event, the Board accepted my recommendations and that, as they say, was that.


I called Rick to tell him the good news.


He replied, “We were confident you could do it.”


I said that Mr Pasha was right about the difficulty of coming to a decision, and the ease with which everything else proceeds.


He retorted quickly, “I did not mean your decision. I meant your initiation.” And then hung up.


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