It seems that within any one life we live many lifetimes; seemingly not only distinct chapters in a life, but entirely separate books. Abrupt changes, intense situations and altered consciousness can make for radical chapter or book endings and beginnings in an unfolding life. Returning to Canyonlands near Moab has brought about just such a recognition for me.
It was just three years ago that Rick, Judy, Carla and I were strolling amongst vast canyons here with fantastically shaped rocks—one stone looks like an immense whale, another called Cleopatra’s Chair (she would have to be hundreds of feet tall to fit in that chair), immense stone buttes called the Merrimac and the Monitor from Civil war fame, and wide cut canyons from the Colorado and Green Rivers backed by snow-clad mountains. Even if you are not generally a fan of rock and stone you cannot but be impressed with views such as from Dead Horse Canyon. Three years ago, unbeknownst to me at the time, I was extremely anemic and as I walked a very slight grade of a paved walk to view the Green River far below I found myself stopping every few steps to catch my breath—it finally dawned upon me that I should make a visit to the emergency room, the body was in trouble.
What seems another lifetime ago now I went through various medical procedures that removed what turned out to be stage 4 melanoma cancer from internal organs—part of my small intestines and a few months later some of my liver and all of my gallbladder were excised (I think they were having a two for one special that day at the University Hospital). If there were any more incisions made on my stomach area I could play a neat game of tic-tac-toe on the 8 and 11 inch scars left behind. Come forward a little over two and half years since the last operation and being cancer free—Carla and I walk up a three-mile path that is called “difficult” on the guide map to Delicate Arch. I spring up the rocky ascent like a gazelle (well, ok, at least in my mind I felt like a gazelle). Feeling full of life-energy it was a fun challenge to get to the top and then look down upon this amazing exhibit of nature’s art, a 60 foot high stone arch surveying a deep valley below. A lifetime of difference from the first pilgrimage here three years ago and today.
The concept of time is a strange one. Circumstances can make a desperate moment seem forever, and in happier situations time speeds up. In some chapters and books life can go by almost without knowing that time is making you flow downstream and gobbling up years, and other times are condensed—all compact and densely lived. Whether the plasticity of time appears slow or fast you have but one absolute measurement that is your polestar in life to keep your bearings and make you know who and what you are—to be consciously aware of your true Self.
It is knowing your true Self that grounds you to timeless truth, not simply swept up in the time-current of the moment. The seas of your life can be stormy, wind tossed with crashing waves all around you, or it can be just as prone to be open blue skies, placid and silky smooth. Whether you are in your ups or your downs there is a singular spiritual Presence that is ever the same—calm, pure, steady and always a comfort and a guide. Time and experience teach us the superior value of being in communion with this Presence as it proves itself to be our one, true, reliable friend and guide throughout all time.
Whether it be one life or many lives we live, there is but one great lesson to learn; to be in a state of Self-realization that slips the grasp of time and space and weds us to the Eternal. There is something here in these ancient towers of stone, a multibillion-year-old earth that speaks to the listening soul. It tells of ages gone and ages yet to come, it vibrates a deep sympathy to a quiet soul, it teaches us to measure time in a completely different manner than humans normally do, and it hints at a quiet understanding that all is well. How quickly a human life must seem to these ancient sentinels, how fleeting are our concerns and worries. These ancient ones teach us patience and perspective, they demonstrate that great beauty rises from their midst and then crumbles back into its source once again; and in all these comings and goings that span hundreds of thousands of years these stalwart ones whisper, “All is well, all is well.”
Travel Note: We are encamped on the Colorado River in a valley—so our internet comes and goes, and even at the best times of day it is not strong. So, we will not be broadcasting today, but hope to do so soon—we will be with you in Spirit. Next, we plan to have the darshan of Monument Valley located on the Utah-Arizona border on Navaho land. It will be our first time in the Four Corners area, so we are looking forward to the next adventures Ram has on the itinerary. One thing is certain, Moab and its surrounding area is a favorite for both of us.
