Mt. Shasta
A Spiritual Tribute
“You, a traveler on the road to life, but no longer afraid of death, no longer afraid of life. Knowing who you are and what you are about, perhaps even understanding what you did that suckered you into incarnating here on this most insignificant planet in a very plain galaxy, far from home and the mainstream of life…” — Bruce K. Avenell
An amazing spiritual being who I was lucky enough to know for almost 45 years passed from the physical and into the spiritual just a little more than six weeks ago. He left behind his failing physical vehicle so he could once again fly among the stars, where he seemed to truly belong. This posting will not be specifically about him, for I could not do him much justice in all that. I will leave that business to others. No, it will be about what he has left behind. And by left behind, his many wise writings and teachings for us to read, ponder, and consider. I will only quote excerpts from some of them, and leave it up to you in searching out anything more that may interest you about him and his teachings.
“Understand, this place is not our home. The being you are did not grow to the human level in the very short time that the planet Earth has been hospitable to this physical human life form. We are all wanderers in the great school of life. Some wander aimlessly, not realizing at all they are in a school. Some are assigned here to learn this. All in school, all learning. All learning to be yourself.
Shasta Discovery
“When I first caught sight of it over the braided folds of the Sacramento Valley, I was fifty miles away and afoot, alone and weary. Yet all my blood turned to wine, and I have not been weary since.”
— John Muir
When I first heard of Mt. Shasta I had never actually heard of it before. Of course, I had drank Shasta Cola a few times as a kid, but I never really knew there was a real mountain called Shasta. Until that spring of ’72.
As I previously stated in part 2 of my 3-part blog entry ‘Mt Spiritual Adventure,’ my meditation teacher told me in spring about a retreat that was to take place up there in mid-summer. By early summer there was a lot of talk among some of my new-found meditation friends about who was going to make this spiritual trek to northern California … to that mountain called Shasta. A mountain that had a reputation as a sacred, mystical mountain drawing people from all over the world, as if a spiritual mecca of the west.
At that time I didn’t count myself on that list. I wasn’t sure I could get the money together, get time off work, or had a decent enough car to make such a long journey from Texas to a place I knew very little about. At least I wasn’t in summer school (I was 20 and in college at UT Austin) that year, so that wasn’t a problem. But the obstacles were there, and so I wrote it all off.
Shasta Time
“I consider the evening twilight on Mount Shasta one of the
grandest sights I have ever witnessed.”
— Theodore Roosevelt
Every year about this time I, along with a host of others, head to Mt. Shasta for an annual retreat and to partake of her spiritual goodies. My first trip up here was in the summer of 1972 when I was just 20 (that was an amazing trip and camping experience I should write about some day). I have come up every year at this time, except for one year when I went to climb around the pyramids of the Yucatan. So this will be my 41st retreat up to Shasta. And every year is different, each with its own set of spiritual challenges, lessons, progressions, and comprehensions. And of course, seeing old friends and meeting new ones.
As I write this I am just starting to get my camping gear together. But I also wonder how many more years I will be able to camp up there. I guess as long as my body will put up with it, hopefully until I am at least 80. There are times when hiking, meditating, or just hanging around my camp, when it feels like I am home. At least as much as you can feel at home in this physical corporeal existence.
Silver Love
“To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness.” — D.H. Lawrence
I know I haven’t posted in a bit, but I just recently came down from two weeks of camping, hiking, meditating and just hanging out with nature and friends up on Mt. Shasta, one of my favorite places to go. So, as they say, I was off the grid for a while, recharging my batteries for my existence back in the lowlands of the normal physical world.
I first came up to Mt. Shasta in 1972, forty years ago. I was only twenty years young then. Of course, I’ve aged a bit since then, both in body and in spirit. However, I’d like to think I’ve traded those years for something worthwhile, like gaining a little wisdom, and learning a few lessons from the immature trials of inexperienced youth.
And one of those lessons involves a simple but powerful lesson called love. At the retreat on Mt. Shasta this year that theme kept popping its inquiring head around at me, like saying ‘okay, are you really comprehending how this silver love thing works?’ Uh, well, I thought so. But hey, maybe not? Well anyway, while I’m at it, let me explain a little about this silver love thing. And no, it doesn’t mean love between senior citizens, something that has been bantered about some.
A Matter of Altitude
“May your spirit soar throughout the vast cathedral of your being.” – Jonathan Lockwood Huie
The last month or so, I have down in the dumps a bit. Not really down in a depressed way, but just not at my normal foundation of “up-ness.” For the most part, meditating provides me with a lift, but lately not quite enough to what my level of ‘normal’ is. I haven’t really let it concern me too much but after almost a month of it, which is usually a long funk for me, I have been wondering what was up. Most of the time I try to go through a checklist of any issue or problem that comes up.
I first try to decipher if it’s something that’s going on inside of me. If I don’t get any clues there, I start searching outside myself. If not much comes up there, I have to ponder deeper. I did all those things, but nothing significant presented itself. Only minor, seemingly insignificant things came up. So now, I was at a bit of a loss. I just decided to keep up with my normal day to day routine and hoped I would pull myself out of it somehow. Nothing gave, so I gave up on my normal routine for a few days and wound up doing very little for awhile. That just made me tired and drained, and then I felt worse. Something needed to happen. Ask and ye shall receive, as they say. Or someone did, I think in the Bible.
No Other Film …
“Our truest life is when we are in dreams awake.” – Henry David Thoreau
… is like “Dreams Awake.” Like it, love it, hate it, indifferent about it, whatever … you will never ever come across another film that has the elements this film does. I personally guarantee it. That may seem like a boastful statement, but I firmly believe it. If anyone wants to challenge me on it, come right ahead. Because right here, right now, I am coming out of the closet about the content of this film.
This film is not completely fiction. Some of these things have happened, are happening, will continue happen. I know, another crazy bold statement to make. But I can back it up. People I know, as well as myself, have had many of the experiences referred to in the film, and many other similar types of experiences. Without the dramatic story that ties it all up, this could actually have been a documentary.
When I got the very first inklings of this story, I actually did not intend for it to go in that direction. It was as if the film had its own life, its own momentum, and its own magic. I cannot completely explain it, but I can attempt to relate it to you. Right here. Right now.