Holding to my self-centered holiday tradition, I decided to spend Christmas by myself, in the mountains. The plan was to snowshoe from the mid mountain snow-gate of Ebbits pass, to a hidden cabin, deep in the mountain. I would then spend the next three days in silence. I planed to meditate, read from the Course in Miracles, and survive on a raw diet. The idea was to surround myself with the stillness of nature, and then I would listen for the stillness within myself. I knew that I was going to have a profound transformational experience. However, those experiences rarely come in the form that we choose.
I arrived at the base of the mountain around 12:00pm. My goal was to reach the cabin by 3:00pm, because that is the time that it begins to get dark, and I still needed to chop firewood. To my surprise the snow-gate was closed much further down, than I anticipated. In fact it was more that three times as far as originally planned. Determined to have my spiritual experience, I opted to proceed. I loaded my fifty-pound bag onto my back, strapped on my snowshoes, and I was on my way. It wasn’t long before the high elevation began to take its toll. I was also experiencing hip pains due to the heavy load I was carrying. I decided to take my first break at 3:00pm. Drenched in sweat, I shoveled granola and orange slices into my mouth, and finished off the rest of my water. I stretched my legs a bit, and continued up the mountain. By 4:00pm I was becoming very fatigued, and the pain in my hips was becoming more difficult to handle. It seemed that I was stopping every ten minutes just to try to catch my breath. It was getting darker, and the temperature was dropping quickly. I knew that I was past the point of no return, and decided to take off the snowshoes, to help alleviate the pain. Taking off the shoes did help with the pain, however it made the hike much more difficult. At 5:00pm I reached the turn off that headed up to the cabin. The temperature was around -12c and I could feel my sweaty hair and cloths begin to freeze solid. I was relieved to know that I was close. On the other hand, I knew that I still had another mile of the steepest, and most difficult terrain ahead of me. It wasn’t long before I became extremely exhausted. I could only walk about twenty feet before I had to take a break. As I clumsily made my way up the path, I continuously crossed fresh mountain lion and coyote tracks. Somewhere between 5:00pm and 6:00pm my body began to fail. I was soaking wet with sweat and freezing cold. I was totally dehydrated. It seemed that I couldn’t walk more that fifteen feet without dropping to my knees. My heart was beating out of my chest, and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. As darkness overtook everything, I could literally hear the forest coming to life with animals. Having been to the cabin before, I knew that if I didn’t find it before it became completely dark out, there was a good chance I wouldn’t find it at all. I pressed forward a bit more. My vision became very blurry, and I began to feel disoriented. Completely exhausted, I fell to my knees one last time. Honestly the thought of failing or giving up never crossed my mind. However, My body was so weakened, nothing was crossing my mind. The next thing I remember was being surrounded by bright pink light. I actually had the thought that I was dying. I lifted my head and realized that the sun was just setting over the distant mountaintops. This was illuminating the clouds above me in a brilliant pink. The sky was baby blue, and looked like it had huge wads of cotton candy floating in it. I turned my head to the left and looked over the valley below, and the peaks beyond. All of the snow was neon pink. I felt an indescribable calm come over me. All the fear of dying was replaced with an unbelievable peace. Were before I was thinking about the cold, the dark, my breath, my dehydration, my pain, and mountain lions. Now I had no thought. My mind had emptied, as if someone pulled the plug from the bottom of a bathtub. I truly felt that this sunset was the world showing me the way home. With the assistance of my snowshoes, I managed to push myself to my feet. I stumbled for a second as I regained my balance, then I took a step, and another. In fact I didn’t stop again. For the next twenty minutes I pushed up through the knee-deep snow. At around 6:30pm I saw the cabin. It was only thirty feet away, but it felt like two miles. I literally crawled to the front door. I twisted the wooden latch and pulled myself inside. Completely out of breath, I shook my bag off of my back, and began fumbling though it with my numb, immobile fingers. I retrieved a candle and a lighter. It is very difficult to get a freezing lighter to light, especially when you can’t feel your fingers. Finally I got the candle lit. As the soft orange glow of the flame filled the room I saw, four perfect pieces of firewood next to the wood-burning stove. I shove wads of newspaper into the stove, while simultaneously shoving granola and apple into my mouth. Once the glow of the newly formed fire enveloped the small room. I was pleased to find a case of bottled water. All the bottles were frozen solid, but I had plenty of time to thaw them. I warmed up by the fire for the next hour, before I decided that I had to find some more wood. I limped to the door, and with my headlamp began to look around outside for wood. To my absolute amazement there was a stack of wood, just under the cabin. In fact there was two nights worth of wood, which was perfect because, that is exactly how long it took me to recover.
Over the next day and a half, I did a bit of reading, as I had originally planed. However, mostly I just sat in stillness. I listened to the crackle of the wood burning, and the sound of the snow falling off of the trees. I listened to the creaking of the cabin as it expanded and contracted with the cold, and the sounds of animals in the distance. It is amazing, what music the world plays, if you only listen. I was over whelmed with a feeling of greatness. Not just because I didn’t physically die, but because I AM apart of all of this.
After I regained my strength, I left the cabin. The hike back proved to be much less difficult, as it was all down hill, and I had a different disposition on things. Something died on that mountain, and thankfully it wasn’t my body. For 48 hours I have enjoyed clarity, unlike any that I have ever felt before. Perhaps it will diminish in intensity, but it will never be lost.
The universe will always provide you with the experience that is needed to further your consciousness.
Eckhart Tolle