I went on a hike last weekend but didn't make a sacred ritual of it. I did today and the experience was wonderful. Sorry if this post is a bit disjointed but I know I have to post before I forget.
I began the hike by performing the Child's Pose asana at the trail head. As soon as my forehead hit the ground I felt an immediate connection, a centering pull, a feeling of rightness.
As I began the hike I was surprised to find an occasional mound of unmelted snow. The temperature was quite cool, perhaps in the low 50's. The first mile of the trail was on a wide abandoned logging trail. The ascent was mild but I was somewhat dismayed to notice my breathing laboring somewhat. I took this as a signal to slow down my already deliberate pace even more, concentrating on each step. I used the meditative technique I'd used before AYP of counting my breaths. After a hundred breaths I performed the asana, then continued the hike while I chanted one verse of the Gayatri Mantra out loud as I listened to the mantra with headphones on my mp3 player.
As I continued my climb I spontaneously started increasing the number of verses I sang incrementally by one each time. I found that the placement of both my hands on the ground while pushing myself off the ground after the asana led to a wonderful feeling in my hands. Again the connectedness to the earth and the sense of rightness, but, as my forehead was not connecting with the ground it was a stability, perhaps nobility of stature, rather than being of the earth. I noticed that when I looked at the ground with half-closed eyes I saw small pinpoints of light cascading down into the ground.
The second half of the hike was on a more traditional narrow hiking trail and the ascent was a bit steeper. As the number of mantras grew I slowed my pace even further to be able to sing the mantra with exact pronunciation. I passed wonderful little streams with magical songs of spring, an abundance of impressive moss and an increasing sense of peace. I stilled myself to listen to the wind beginning in a distant hilltop, then roar to the summit above me and pass on to other mountains. The air was heavy with mist and visibility was perhaps only 200 feet. After one asana, on my hands and knees, I noticed a subtle trembling in my body. As I concentrated on this I realized that it was my heartbeat and the aftershocks of blood coursing through my veins and arteries which was causing the vibration.
I reached the summit with a feeling of sadness but quickly let go of that as just another thought. Visibility at the top was minimal, perhaps only 50 feet. The wind was gusting at 20-30 mph. I looked up at the well-preserved fire tower, it's top almost obscured by the mist, and decided to climb. I put on the Gayatri Mantra music and began a slow ascent up the slick stairs, the handrail dripping with condensation, singing each syllable quite distinctly and with passion. I dismissed thoughts of the cold and fear as my hands numbed and continued up slowly. At the top there was a brief respite from the wind. I performed an asana, then spontaneously bobbed my head up and down, up on all fours, forehead to the floor, up and down, over and over, praying, singing, prostrating, praying, singing, prostrating... om bh#363;r bhuvah svah Om tat savitur varenyam Bhargo devasya dh#299;mahi Dhiyo yo nah prachoday#257;t Om…
I climbed slowly, deliberately back down the stairs and did the same asanas/prostration/mantra on the ground at the base of the fire tower. I finished and headed back down the trail. My head was so quiet I had no inclination or need to count and decided to skip the mantra singing. The wind roared through me and the drips of moisture off the Spruce trees splashed loudly on the pine needles.
My pace increased on the downhill slope and I reached out and lightly grabbed trees to help my balance. Again the touch felt wonderful. I stopped at one particularly beautiful little tree, perhaps five inches in diameter and twenty feet tall. I put both hands on its trunk and admired the smoothness of the bark, its nobility of stature. I hugged the tree, kissed it and told it I loved it. Again I embraced it and felt its long presence reaching up to the sky.
As I continued down thoughts slowly began to reappear and the Sound of Silence sang to me. I realized that the Silence I obtained near the summit was a state of consciousness beyond that I experience listening to the unstruck sound. I greeted this knowledge with relief because I had known that the SoS disappears as one becomes more effaced in meditative absorption. For quite a while I feared the loss of the SoS because it has become so much a part of my life. Now I know I have nothing to fear. On the far side is a transcendent state of being of the utmost subtlety.
The SoS increased to a symphony with the wind, the trickle of streams and the river, my breathing and footsteps...
By the time I reached my car thoughts had returned.
Namaste,
Joe
