Picture: David Meditating Next to Creek

It is very interesting to notice not only the physical surroundings you are in, but also the subtle vibrational reality that accompanies all creation. Spiritual beauty and physical attractiveness can be at complete variance with one another, and then on some occasions they express themselves equally through some charming form as in the case of Mother Hamilton.

Without doubt Bryce Canyon is breathtakingly magnificent in its vistas with colors that seem from another world. When we arrived at Zion Canyon we found it visually stunning as well, but not on the same order as Bryce. However we have found Zion to have a spiritual power that was often not felt at Bryce; the exception at Bryce was the Fairyland Canyon which had a wonderful spiritually uplifting feeling to it.

Before arriving at Zion we had just passed through the most vibrationally painful area where the Mountain Meadow Massacre occurred (see previous posting). That un-grieved for tragedy that happened so long ago continued to envelope us as we entered Zion Park.

After finding a campsite near the south entrance we took the motorhome back up the road near where the tunnel exits. We hiked up the canyon along a sweet creek, climbing around boulders and following a faint trail that led us into the canyon’s wilderness. At last we came to a spot where the trail crossed the creek and decided to sit for a while, feeling drawn to meditate there. Turning our attention inward also made us more aware of the powerful spiritual current flowing in that spot. Divine Mother had drawn us here in order to baptize us in her holy vibrations.

We felt washed clean of the pain we carried from the massacre as we allowed those invisible healing “waters” to flow around us and through us. It was unspoken by either of us until afterward, but we both reported identical experiences while there. Such is the wonderful healing potency that comes with pure nature. It seems that the earth has natural places of healing, and then there are places surcharged by saints and souls of great realization, and then there are places that have both of these blessings combined. Being next to that creek was simply one of Mother Nature’s natural healing gifts.

Today we found another such place. In this case the location is much more public. A set of immense cliffs are the backdrop to the museum here at Zion. Obviously these towering edifices made by water’s power and sculpting methods also inspired early settlers, for they named this place Temples and Towers. Here you will find peaks called the West Temple and the Altar of Sacrifice. After touring the visitor center we happened upon the rear entrance and happily discovered this most imposing scene.

We were both instantly enthralled by the dramatic cliffs and peaks we saw. It was not just the visual delight of the view, but a definite feeling of spiritual power emanating from these craggy heights. We both sat and entered stillness at the behest of this Temple of Nature. How long we sat is hard to gauge, perhaps not long, perhaps it stretched out into eternity. Different visitors came and went as we remained, emphasizing the vastness in time of this mountainous creation making it seem that humans were just tiny fly-like visitors flitting in and out, barely noticed by these geologic patriarchs.

Both of these healing, uplifting gifts of nature came to us unbidden and without any pre-knowledge by us of their coming. Perhaps Divine Mother delights in surprising her children with these blessings of Spirit that uplift and heal Her very own.

As we greet All-Saints Eve today, honoring all saints known and unknown, we can readily identify so many saints that were inspired by nature’s spiritually charged environments. Babaji, Jesus and St. Francis come to mind in thinking of their love and reverence for the spiritual nature of creation; its beauty and wonder. It is in the spirit of Divine Mother’s recent gifts to us, that have been so freely given, that I pass on to you all of their uplifting and purifying power even as we felt it, for you to feel Her blessings on this All-Saints Eve and coming Day.

The Physical dimension is only one aspect to a pilgrimage. For one who has attunement to the inner senses there are many more ways of perceiving this world we live in. As we were traveling in Southern Utah we heard many stories of how Brigham Young had “ordered” particular families to come to specific areas to make their homes.

Many of these places proved not to be conducive to successful communities for a variety of reasons; weather, poor land or a native population that was not in favor of having new neighbors. As I continued to hear these stories an oppressive feeling came over me about this dynamic and I felt a soul sickness within; something felt terribly wrong here.

I must say I have been around and known Mormons most of my life and I have a highly favorable opinion about most all the folks I know. But this oppressive, painful experience continued to grow as we travelled west. It came to a head when Carla was reading about an event known as the Mountain Meadow Massacre; we happened to be right in the area it occurred.

The Mountain Meadow Massacre took place September 11, 1857 at the time of Brigham Young and the church’s desire to settle Utah Territory for Mormons was at its height. Young had become more strident in his call for making this area a place for Mormons only. Meanwhile a comparatively wealthy group of pioneers from Arkansas with a large herd of cattle was travelling south in Utah going to California. When the group was in Salt Lake City they were refused re-supply because they were not Mormon, so they were struggling just to make it out of the territory.

A local militia group of Mormons dressed up as Indians and attacked these settlers, probably hoping to steal their cattle. They were recognized as being whites, not Indians, and so they made a terrible decision to cover up the truth. A group of Mormons under a white flag approached the travelers who had been under siege by the “Indians” for five days. The Mormons said they could help the Arkansas pioneers get through the dangerous Indian Territory. The pioneers agreed and allowed themselves to be led into an ambush by the rest of the group and every man, woman and child was killed; one hundred and twenty souls. The only exceptions were those younger than seven and they were adopted into Mormon Families by the very people who murdered their families and stole their belongings. They were just 40 miles from entering California.

There is a long story in all of this, however a Mormon investigator found blame in the murderer’s greed, and the increasingly fiery talk from Brigham Young about the area being only for Mormons. When Carla read this to me it fit exactly the overwhelming feeling I had been having and my discomfort with families ordered here and there by the church hierarchy for the purpose of establishing a territorial claim. Eventually the children incorporated into the Mormon families were found and an effort was made to reunite them with their families in Arkansas.

This is a strange story, something that happened so many years before should be felt so strongly by me now without my having any pre-knowledge of these events. It highlights the fact that whatever is done cannot be done in secret, and it shall be shouted from the rooftops. I have a strong feeling of grief for those innocent travelers and for the terror they went through. I have hesitated in writing this as part of this pilgrimage, but when I awoke this morning I found the story being written in my mind and a strong prompting to make this part of our record.

As we have continued our travels these intuitive feelings of grief have remained but with less intensity. We motored from the lovely Bryce to Zion Canyon. One thing that is very interesting is how different each of these National Parks has been. We entered Zion from the east entrance and marveled at the strange rock formations there, looking like upside-down beehives hundreds of feet tall. We then went through a couple of tunnels, one of them over a mile long with occasional ‘windows’ looking out over steep drop-offs. We then emerged into the south part of the park.

The weather is warmer here, not freezing at night, and we have found ourselves at a lovely campground near the south entrance. We hiked up the trail where the road stops at the canyon’s end called the Temple of Sinawava; we were in awe of the steep cliffs on both sides that eventually narrows to a few feet wide as you proceed up the Virgin River. On another day we drove to Kolob National Park and took a hike to its vistas. Superlatives simply have to give way to silence, for there seems to be one magnificent view after another on this pilgrimage; too many to describe. We continue to enjoy each and every day and look forward to what God will bring to us next.

Health Note: I continue to grow stronger, although each day varies in what I can do and how fast. My blood count has remained steady but below normal, and I have now finished the antibiotics for the stomach; there has been overall improvement. My health seems to be on the right track, just slower progress than I would like. I will now work to improve my stomach health with probiotics.

Pilgrimages have a way of condensing time. Each time I have gone to India on pilgrimage it seems that the intensity of experience makes it seem that it must have been far more time than what the calendar says. After a month on this pilgrimage Carla and I looked at each other and we both said it seems more like a year than a month!

This is not just because it has been difficult or painful, which can also condense time, for we have had so many extraordinary experiences in nature that have been wonderful. Even now we continue our stay at Bryce National Park. We live in a forest of Ponderosa Pine, just steps away we can walk to the canyons edge and be witnesses to one of nature’s great sculptural masterpieces, breathe remarkably pure air at over 8,000 feet, and as of the last couple of days we have deep blue skies above. No, it just seems a very long time ago since we left on this journey.

We have explored the series of “amphitheaters” that make up Bryce Canyon, each one with different characteristics and individuals charms. We can only imagine how crowded it must be in summer months, but now there is a steady trickle of fellow gawkers, many of them northern Europeans of various nationalities. There are hikers, mountain bikers and look, click and dash folks (they race to the view point, look, click some pictures and dash off to the next view as if some invisible timekeeper will award them a prize for being the fastest tourist of the day!).

We tend to move slow, some of that is dictated by this body, but it is also a desire not only to look, but to feel on a deeper, intuitional level. These canyons are not static but in a sense living. Through erosion they are constantly changing, only their life cycle occurs over tens and hundreds of thousands of years. One of the Indian legends says that there were people living here long ago and they became evil. The prankster coyote turned these evil people to stone, and if you look at the Hoodoo formations you can still make out their faces in the rock.

When you listen deeply there is a great quiet and purity. Although we have no schedule it seems we have spent extra time here; it has been good for the healing of this body as well. We will be moving on to other places soon, but other than the cold (there are over 200 days a year that have freezing temperatures and we have been here for a few of them), it has been a wonderful time.

It is always interesting to see the world through what others perceive. Ebenezer and Mary Bryce were homesteaders whose backyard was these magnificent canyons and for whom the park was named. When Ebenezer was asked what he thought about these canyons that eventually became a National Park and where millions of visitors would come to take in the views, he thought about it for some little while, and said, “Well, it’s a helluva place to lose a cow.” Well, Ebenezer, I am sure it was!

Health Note: I continue to be able to do more each day, although it is slower than I would like. I was having a constant burning pain in my stomach, so on the advice of the insurance nurse over the phone we drove a couple of hours to a walk-in clinic. The doctor there prescribed some anti-biotics for a stomach ulcer (it is only the third time I have had antibiotics). It has been a couple of days but I am noticing improvement. The doctor in Moab suspected I might have a stomach ulcer. It was only recently that an Australian researcher announced certain types of ulcers were caused by bacterial infections. He was ignored and scoffed at by the medical establishment until the evidence convinced a reluctant institution. Today I am getting treatment based on his tenacity to go forward in the face of ridicule by “the experts.”

Additional Note: October 24 is the second anniversary of Christine leaving the body. She continues to feel very close to me. We were in India on pilgrimage two years ago when we received word that she had left the body. We had a laminated picture of Christine and took it to every holy place we went and dipped it in the Ganges when at Ma’s ashram. Although the outcome was not her complete physical recovery as we had hoped deep in our hearts, she did have a most glorious leaving of the body and left as a freed soul. The day before her 2^nd anniversary I spontaneously bought some lime flavored Tostitos, a product I have never bought before. On the day of her anniversary I took the bag out and opened it and Carla said, “Christine always bought those when she came down, they were her favorite and she couldn’t get them in Canada!” So we ate some Lime Tostitos at Rainbow Point here at Bryce in memory of our sweet Christine.

With a gradual recovery of my health taking hold Carla and I setup an evening boat ride on the Colorado River with Rick and Judy as a thank you for all the support they provided while I was out of commission; Rick helping Carla with the R.V, Judy by making delicious meals for us, and the use of their pick-up to run the many errands required.

The boat ride started with dinner in a banquet hall next to the Colorado River at dusk. Tall older men in cowboy hats greeted us with friendly Western hospitality; then we had a lovely meal. Then on the jet boat that held 140 people in rows of seats. We had some earlier rain but not a drop all through the boat ride. As we gently made our way upriver we received a geology lesson by our entertaining guide; he also pointed out an immense stone crocodile, images of fish on the cliffside, he said it was a rockfish, and several visages, one looking like W.C. Fields. Making the turn to go back down river we were accompanied by a land vehicle that had enormous lights that lit up the canyon walls as the history of creation from the Bible was told, and for all appearances the face of God seemed to be looking out from the rock face as it was brilliantly lit, and the history of the native peoples in the area as well as early pioneers and desperadoes was told as we gently floated downstream. All in all it was an entertaining and unique view of the canyon.

In the morning we broke camp and made our way toward Fruita, now a state park and once the site of a small settlement of a few intrepid families. Located in a narrow valley of red rock, a small river made it possible for early native peoples and later pioneers to plant crops and supplement game for their living. The early native peoples preceded the Hopis, whom the Hopis called the ancient ones, and for some unknown reason they left the area. A Mormon settlement of few families planted orchards and supplemental crops and lived by bartering their goods for grain and other essentials. By WW II they too left the area.

This was a charming little valley, but after a night’s stay it was clear that the cottonwoods were causing allergic reactions for Carla and we left it. Having been separated from Rick and Judy in Moab Carla and I headed out to places unknown. One of the great things about a motorhome, if where you are does not suit you then you simply fire up the engine and off you go to better places.

We travelled on to Escalante and found a lovely state park in which to stay overnight. In the a.m. we were on to further places unknown. A thought we had earlier was to go the Bryce Canyon, but the weather was rainy and cool and the altitude there is very high. However as the highway brought us near to the National Park we felt a pull to enter in.

We climbed up to 8-9,000 feet in altitude and were immediately charmed by the locale. The long needle pine trees and rocky terrain reminded us of Dronagiri in India where Babaji initiated Lahiri Mahasaya. Carla’s allergies were clearing in the mountain air and we found a lovely spot in which to camp. We drove the two lane road to one magnificent vista after another. Not so much a canyon as a series of amphitheaters Bryce seemed to be created to delight and astound its viewers.

No artist has ever had a palette filled with such colors. Oranges, reds and golds are magnificently vibrant with varying shades and hues, but all the colors are intense and rich. Hoodoos rise up from the height of a man and on up to 150 feet tall with varying thickness layer after layer, like a totem pole. While there is nothing I sense specifically spiritual in these cliff formations, their eye catching beauty and chiseled looks inspires the mind to appreciate what Mother Nature can do. Quite often either Carla or I will automatically and quietly proclaim, “Oh God Beautiful!”

The combination of thinking of Babaji, the feeling of clean air, and the remarkable beauty that lies outside our door makes us think we will tolerate the periodic rain showers and the cold nights for a while longer. That and the days this weekend are predicted to be filled with sun if we are here long enough.

Being in Nature’s Cathedrals is a big part of what drew me to this part of the world. Here at Bryce I feel a wonderful fulfillment of the feeling of clean energy and abundant beauty that God meant for us to experience on this pilgrimage.

Picture: Bryce National Park

Click on any picture to enlarge it.

Picture: Communing with God in the hospital

Early morning reveries are a common way that God reveals His more subtle and profound Truths to me. In the darkness the world is quiet and His whispered thoughts come unbidden, but not unwelcomed.

This morning God was telling me about bending or re-shaping reality. He used the example of this last week’s events of going into the hospital. From Monday morning we were told by the E.R. doctor and the colon specialist in all likelihood I had cancer. Even after the colonoscopy the specialist was certain that I had cancer, even though he said he could be wrong. Even if I did not have cancer I would still need to have a portion of my colon removed through orthoscopic surgery.

Fast forward to getting the biopsy reports and the same doctor now said that not only would I not need surgery, but that he felt he destroyed the non-malignant tumor. Although quite large, over a centimeter, he removed some of it and cauterized the rest. He recommended a couple of follow-up tests, but they could wait.

From the certainty of an operation and the high probability of cancer to, “You will need no further treatment at this time,” was a very big change of reality.

God explained this morning. The number of prayers being issued by powerful souls had bent and reshaped reality. In the experience God showed me prayers being put forward by high-souled individuals, I saw with inward vision the effects of those prayers changing this medical situation.

This was not some vague idea or thought of, “That is how it should work,” rather it was a reality I was experiencing. It was fascinating to see the entire process from His perspective. The greater connection the individual has with God, the more focused the mind, the more powerful the prayer. So each individual’s prayer varied in strength, but every one of them counted and had its effect.

The doctors and nurses and hospital staff certainly played their essential roles, and overall I was very impressed with the treatment I received there. However, there was also a powerful hidden force at work; your prayers. It is with profound gratitude that I thank you for those prayers and the love that went behind them, and the fact that God has given us each other so that we might make this journey together back to Him.

I know from my own experience that deepened prayer brings me closer to God and thus acts as a blessing to the one praying. Whether it is an individual, or dozens, hundreds, thousands or millions, prayer has the capacity to bend and re-shape reality in positive ways. One person, close to God, may have a greater effect than millions, but no prayer is lost or insignificant in the eyes of the Lord. Let each one of us deepen our communion with the Infinite and therefore be a greater conduit for His blessings going out to this creation.

Picture: Mt. Vernon Dharmashala

A dharmashala is a shelter dedicated to right action or holiness. When Carla and I were able to purchase the Mt. Vernon house we definitely wanted to dedicate it as a place of right action, and to make it a place where through deepened meditation and activities for the spiritual Group it became a place of holiness as well.

When we first drove by and saw the For Sale sign and I stepped out of the car I loved the feeling of the land and very much liked the Cape Cod style of the house. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be able to buy this home,” was the wistful thought we both had. At that moment there was no associated thought that would be something we would ever be able to do.

Somehow through some fairly miraculous and timely circumstances, that unfolded a step at a time, we were allowed to eventually buy that very house we so circumstantially happened to drive by. However, buying the house was only the beginning of the adventure. The house had been built in 1950, and while it had been greatly loved by the Fishers, who had lived in the house for 50 years, it held much promise for many improvements.

From the beginning George and Christine gave so lovingly of their time, energy, expertise and financial support to make improvements on the house. I hesitate to mention the many helpers for fear of leaving anyone out, but Greg, Larry, Herlwyn, Bruce, Janice, Peter, Brad (and Sparky), Dianne, Andrew, Cate and Charmie all come to mind for giving of their time, labor and in many instances money as well for bringing the Mt. Vernon Dharmashala into a much higher expression of beauty and grace for all to enjoy.

Besides those who came for painting parties and working on the landscaping, there are those who came to meditate and pray. The number of Silent Saturdays with deepened meditation, the Services, Christmases and Easters, the baby and wedding showers, the guests who came to do their spiritual work all combined to create a spiritually charged environment. The house hummed and shinned with intense spiritual vibration that grew with each passing year.

Now, 10 years have amazingly passed by since we first stepped out onto the land and felt the wonderful vibration of the many cedar trees and the ground itself. I pray that each person who contributed to making this home a true dharmashala receive much in return for all that has been given. No words can express our feeling of gratitude and the deep mystery of what can happen when many willing, loving hands come together to create something beautiful for God.

It is time to pass this beautiful creation on to a family who will both benefit from, and add to the feeling and beauty this home has been created with. In thinking of putting this home up for sale my thought has been, “May the right family be drawn to this house and fill it with new happiness, holiness and find fulfillment here; be this for the highest good of all!”

After writing the above we received word that we had two offers in the works, and the first offer was upped to a full price offer after seven days on the market. I cannot help but think that the feeling/vibration of the house from all the spiritual work done there added to the appeal of the home.

Note: I went in for blood tests here at the Moab Family Clinic on Friday and will find out the results on Monday. I always offer a complicated medical picture as the internal experiences have “physical features”, so knowing what is physical and what is spiritual can be difficult to differentiate. I do feel this shortness of breath and at least some of the fatigue is a result of something physical which has prompted the further testing. We will keep you informed.

Picture: The view from camping spot on the Colorado River

A pilgrimage can hold many different types of adventures. The common thread in the weave of a pilgrimage is the sacred nature of the journey. After leaving Yuba Lake south of Salt Lake City we climbed and climbed until we motored over a pass that was nearly 8,000 feet above sea level; instead of being covered with trees it was desert sage and rocks. We descended to Green Lake, and the next morning we were on to the town of Moab, closely located to Arches and Canyonlands National Parks.

We had planned on meeting Rick and Judy in or around Moab but without naming a specific time or place. Carla and I followed the road up the Colorado River where there were some camping sites dotting the river. Passing one campground after another with each one showing full, we finally came to one that had just a couple of very nice sites open next to the river. We selected what we thought was the best one for us and started to set up camp when Rick and Judy pulled in and took the site next to us, the only one in the campground that could have accommodated their larger fifth wheel trailer and the only one of two left along the entire canyon. Judy had just been commenting to Rick that they had lost phone connection in the deep canyon and how would they ever find us since they were now miles from Moab. And then they recognized our Big Foot motorhome, and a free campsite next to us; it brought tears to her eyes! God arranged everything without cell phones, through a much more reliable and secure form of communication than man ever invented, His loving Divine care and sure guidance!

Although the Temple at Salt Lake City was a definite interest of mine to experience, the real draw for me from the beginning was to be in nature’s cathedrals of expansive desert. Today we entered into the unique geography of Arches National Park. Over millions of years a salt bed was laid down by a shallow sea filling the area and then drying up. This repeated filling up and drying out built up an immense layer of salt. Through plate tectonic motion the earth rose, the salt, now under layers of sandstone rock, bulged up; then the rains dissolved the underlying salt which collapsed the earth in this area. This collapse stretched the surface layers of sandstone that made them spread and crack. Now rain mixed with carbon which made for an acidic combination sculpted the sandstone into the most unusual shapes.

Upon entering the park it was clear that we were in a most fantastical place. Columned towers, great walls rising up hundreds of feet and stretching for many many miles, great round rocks balanced on narrow tall pedestals; there seemed to be no bar to the creation of every fantastic shape you can imagine by the master Sculptor who used sandstone as his medium, and acidic rain and wind as His carving tools. We arrived 18 miles at the end of the road, a place called Devil’s Garden and walked the path toward the many red sandstones shapes.

Although I was easily winded by the small hills, I was able to walk further than any time in the past weeks. Earlier my physical health had seemed to take a dire turn, I had no coloring and Carla was very concerned. Inwardly I felt that I could give up the body any moment. However, I had a stern talk with God and told Him it would be very wrong to take me now and leave Carla with the R.V. and to have to handle all arrangements for this body in such a remote location as we were in at the time. I told Him under no circumstance should He put her into that situation. Thankfully He did not.

We continued our way back through the park and drove by natural sculptures, and with very little imagination one reminded me of Horus, the Egyptian bird, another of the Egyptian Sphinx, and yet another of the face and body of an immense serpent in an area called the Garden of Eden, and then there was stone in the shape of the Buddha. As we drove on immense sentinel warriors rose hundreds of feet high to stand guard, striking pillars fit for the palace of any king or a temple to God were everywhere, only multiplied by many dimensions; all them colossal, dwarfing man’s tiny attempts at art or architecture. Art was etched into the walls of these mighty corridors. It seemed that all man’s efforts at creation had been anticipated by the Creator in this marvelous setting.

Finally we came to a stop at the Fiery Furnace. The bright red sandstone reached up in columns that must of reminded someone of flames leaping up. However, this place was both physically and energetically a cooling place. As we sat in its midst a great sense of peace and calm came to me. Ah, this is the pilgrimage spot to which Divine Mother had brought us. From here we could look out over a vast panorama of sculpted shapes dotting the landscape below, in the eastern distance high snowcapped mountains in the state of Colorado rose up on the horizon. It was a surpassingly lovely view and the Fiery Furnace brought the gift of awakened spiritual energies. It is a pilgrimage spot chosen for us by Prakriti’s Mother Nature.

And now, as I write this to you we sit next to the Colorado River in a deep ravine with red rock cliffs soaring above and jagged peaks all around us. The campfire is burning, the vivid stars are shinning, gentle rapids next to us sing their continual song and we are serenaded by the crickets living nearby. A wonderful sense of peace like a warm blanket settles around me as I think of you; separated by distance, but not in Spirit.

So I send to you this gentle peace, the peace I felt at the fiery furnace (perhaps it is misnamed) and here by the lapping waves of the Colorado, and I am filled with gratitude for God guiding us so perfectly and truly in this pilgrimage of His natural wonders.

Picture: David & Carla @ Fiery Furnace

Picture: Salt Lake City Cathedral

Our pilgrimage continues. Corliss had recommended that we camp near Thousand Springs Falls Idaho. 90 Miles away a river dives subterranean into lava tubes and travels underground until it finally emerges from the midst of a cliff face and drops down to join the Snake river below. It is a beautiful oasis in the midst of desert; an excellent tip for an overnight stay.

Our next stop was Shoshone Falls. Taller than Niagara Falls, the rock formations formed by the fluidic master engraver are really breathtaking. We pilgrims took our time to imbibe the special feeling of peace and vital energy while there. From there we travelled south into Utah. Our next “home” came next to the Great Salt Lake at Willard Bay State Park. The park mostly empty this time of year was a welcome respite and provided a peaceful haven in which to stay with a rich population of birds and expansive views of the unique Salt Lake.

Then on to Salt Lake City. Settled by the Mormons, I had wanted to visit the holy sites that drew these intrepid pioneers. Establishing a Temple for the living God was an important mission for Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Brigham Young said he did not like to say too much about the revelations he received from God, but he definitely felt the Spirit of God was present where he said the Temple should be built.

Through much hardship the settlers not only worked to eke out a living but also donated their time for 40 years in order to complete the Temple. Using quarry rock from 20 miles away the granite stones were at first hauled by wagon, but later a railroad system that was built to accomplish the task. Truly a beautiful Temple was constructed and the manicured grounds surrounding the Temple have a very peaceful feeling to them.

We were also treated to an organ recital at the Mormon Tabernacle with its amazing sound acoustics beautifully engineered into the oval roofed structure featuring the biggest organ I have ever seen. It was a wonderful treat. A local recommended we eat at the Red Iguana, a Mexican restaurant. We were treated to the most delicious tacos ever. The tightly packed tables and noisy ambience reminded me of Yogi Berra’s (yes, the Yankee catcher was named after Hindu yogis!) comment, “Well, no wonder nobody eats here, it’s so darn crowded!” But the taste of those delicious tacos stay with us still.

Carla had made me promise that if certain physical symptoms continued by the time we had arrived at the city then I would see a doctor here. Frequent shortness of breath, pounding heart, dizziness, and lack of physical energy have been my constant companions these past months; making it an act of will to do the simplest of activities. Dr. Fiona Ying saw me at the University Walk-in Clinic. Both an allopathic and a Chinese medicine doctor, she tested me for blood pressure, heart and lungs, as well as oxygen intake etc. I tested out perfectly in all categories. Dr. Ying was perplexed by my symptoms and apparent perfect health. She asked if I would be open to some Chinese formulas for breathing and dizziness; I have been taking them for the last couple of days; so far without noticeable effect.

One of the legacies of receiving Mother’s Spiritual Mantle has been the taking on of every form of ailment and psychological condition from others. The Grace that goes with this work that I do for Mother is that I know God’s Presence from beginning to end. This makes all the difference. It does not mean that I do not meet with frustration at times, or feel that what He is giving me is too much, but these are passing phases; I would not trade my life for any other.

When I leave on a pilgrimage trek I smile when someone says, “Have a nice vacation.” I appreciate the sentiment, but there is never a time God does not have me at work. This life I live I find fascinating, even as a spectator of a sporting event would find the play on the field fully engaging.

We left Salt Lake City feeling that we had an opportunity to experience the holy sites here. Carla said that it was the cleanest city she had ever been in; I told her it rivaled Singapore in that respect. The people were all friendly and the emphasis on healthy family was evident. It is wonderful to come to a city where the Temple is the center attraction.

As we traveled south we were surprised at the dense population that continued past the city proper. Eventually we felt the relief of leaving the dense population and felt the open skies unfurling before us. We are now stationed at Yuba State Park, looking out over Yuba Lake. The soft colors of desert hills charm us, then as the sun sets a vibrant thunder and lightning storm is passing nearby. We are thankful for our dry dharmashala on wheels and all the comforts of home (in miniature). This morning the early morning skies herald the rising sun with trumpets of orange, gold and blues colors streaking overhead.

Note: We recently received word that Sheela (of Prem and Sheela) has left the body. Sheela had been having health problems for some time. We always remember Sheela for opening her San Diego home to all of us so freely and lovingly, delicious meals and their Thursday night kirtans. Sheela had a wonderful sense of humor, and was totally devoted to Prem (Papa Ramdas’ grandson), Papa, Mataji and Swamiji. I always remember her saying as she lovingly looked upon her husband Prem, “The only thing harder than being a saint is living with one!” I am sure that they were all there for her transition into her new life, now free in joyful Spirit. Om Sri Ram Jai Ram Jai Jai Ram!

Carla and I both pass on our loving thoughts to you and may God and the Masters ever bless you.