Legendary Icons by a Celebrated Master
I met Brent Fraser in the early Fall of 2000 when he began patronizing the coffee shop I was working in and became a regular fixture in San Diego's gay community. The first time I saw him he said he was "looking for adventure", and he certainly looked the part, fresh and handsome in a bright blue and multicolored Hawaiian shirt, his deep brown eyes sparkling dark and dangerous and wild. I had never seen him before, he came out of nowhere, and for several weeks I did my best to resist the urge to get to know him better. I wasn't ready. There was a part of me, deep down somewhere in my subconscious...somewhere in my intuition, that just knew that this man had walked into my coffee shop and into my life to stay. Whenever he would stand in line to order his Dragon Jasmine Phoenix Pearl tea, there was a palpable tension running between us. When I looked into his liquid brown eyes I found myself knowing that he was my answer from the Gods, he was my soul-mate, my spiritual companion, and equal.
I avoided the inevitable for as long as I could, keeping my transactions with Brent short and sweet and to the point. However, two weeks before Halloween, the Gods conspired to push Brent and me together, and keep us together. I had been sharing an apartment with my younger brother, with whom I sometimes butted heads because of our different lifestyle habits and beliefs. On the evening Brent and I had our most fateful encounter, things between my brother and I came to a head and boiled over. We got into a very heated confrontation, during which I finally grabbed some things and left our apartment, going across the street to the coffee shop where I worked, and most often spent my free time reading and writing.
It was very crowded for a Thursday night at the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, but there was still a single table left free, which I took so that I could sit down and cool off after my harrowing confrontation with my brother. I then noticed that the man reading next to me was none other than Brent Fraser, the tall, stocky and handsome "stranger" whom I had been politely avoiding for weeks. I wasn't in the mood for his pleasant, happy-go-lucky attitude, nor his crushingly beautiful eyes...perfect, sensual lips...well, you get the picture. There was certainly an attraction on my side of the fence. He was gorgeous, tall and dark-eyed, soft-spoken, and surprisingly gentle for a man
of his stalwart height and musculature. But I absolutely was not going to talk to him, if I could help it. That lasted all of 20 minutes because he saw that I was writing furiously, and looked up from his book to ask me what I was writing about. At that moment I was working on a spiritual autobiography of sorts, which was told in story form as the tale of a young gay man struggling to find harmony between his search for enlightenment and his desire for love and sexual passion with other men.
I was so upset after what had happened between my brother and me that I thought, what the hell, and proceeded to tell him everything. I read to him portions of the chapter in my book I was currently working on, and all the while Brent's smile grew and grew until he began laughing and nodding his head in familiarity. When I asked him what was so funny, why he was so interested in what I had to say, he went on, for the next few hours, to recount the story of his life to me.
Brent Charles Fraser was no ordinary gay man, that much was certain. A native of Vancouver, British Columbia, he had grown up with something of a chip on his shoulder, restlessness, and unhappiness with the thought of living out an ordinary life. The thought of aspiring to the average upper-class lifestyle he was raised to believe in nettled him, and he was having none of it. As a teenager, he had run away from home after reading a copy of Paramahansa Yogananda's classic Autobiography of A Yogi, and it was his goal to find a cave somewhere in the mountains, hidden away from family and society and material distractions,
where he could meditate until he achieved Samadhi, the supreme state of meditative awareness. He had not quite reached his goal when he was dragged back home by his father, but not before he had committed himself to one day becoming a fully self-realized Yogi.
He later joined the Sivananda Yoga Vedanta Centre in Los Angeles, where he excelled in the practice of Yoga and became a valued Puja leader and ritualist. After working through the complete Sivananda training program and attaining his Yogi Siromani degree, his superiors in the organization wished him to take the vows and mantle of a Swami; however, Brent was becoming keenly aware of his sexual attraction to other men, and his desire to ultimately settle down in a committed gay relationship, so he accepted the degree in Yoga and passed on the vows of a Swami.
After listening to Brent's compelling story- all the while summing up in my mind his many physical and intellectual assets- I wanted to share much more with him, so we continued to converse and share for a number of hours more until the Coffee Bean was closing up for the night around us. It was an exhilarating meeting, but I was still unable to admit to myself (consciously) that here was another gay man like myself, who didn't quite fit into the norm of society, and had aspirations for his life that flowed from a place of spiritual soul-seeking and integrity. He was vastly intelligent and very sincere in all that he presented of himself to others. He had never actually had sex with another man, had never been in a relationship, and had only recently come out of the closet completely. In many respects, he was still wet behind the ears, yet in others, he felt like a very old soul, someone so comfortable and familiar to me that it truly terrified me. Reaching out and loving him would be a certain risk because he had never been in a relationship before, let alone a gay relationship with a man carrying around a very unusual quality of baggage!
I went home after that first intense meeting with Brent, plopped myself down on my knees before the shrine of the Household Gods, and shakily questioned the Deities as to Their intentions. I had only just prayed for a partner for my life and spiritual labors, not even three weeks prior, and in very specific terms had asked for that certain kind of man. Now he appeared to have walked right into my life, bearing the exact qualities, down to the letter, that I had petitioned my gods for within the innermost desires of my heart. Is this how the Gods worked? Was this the handiwork of beloved and loving Antinous, who knew Himself what it meant to suffer and sacrifice and love with wild abandon? How else could I answer the call of love, than by giving myself over to it completely and without logical thought?
I accepted the gift of Brent in my life, and we entered into what I'm sure others who knew us would describe as a whirlwind romance. If Brent had not known the true passion of possessing another man's body fully and completely before our meeting, he certainly came into this knowledge very quickly, as our relationship became consumingly physical. Night after night we spent making love and exploring every possible delight that homosexual sex has to offer a man, and, when not in bed together, we were walking on Coronado Beach under the moonlight or spending hours engrossed in philosophical and spiritual discussions. He was every inch my equal, and in his quest for spiritual wisdom has never had a match amongst my other acquaintances or peers.
Brent and I had our fateful meeting on October 11, 2000. Since that day we have hardly spent more than a few scattered weeks apart, and our nearly 24 years together has been filled with adventure and stimulation, and, more than anything, the fulfillment of a spiritual quest that began for both of us at a very young age.
