I’ve climbed hills and I have mountains to climb. It has its own life, its own Force. It is alive and I am propelled forward and upward. My surrender is not yet perfect, but it Is.

Why Talk About Silence?

For me, it is not something I am at all inclined to do, but a kind invitation came not once, but twice. I took a few moments one day out of the ninety days to write crystallized moments below photos I had taken, and the reason was this: Spiritual Insurance Policy. Should the mind arise with the drunkenness of doing, should the ego cleverly attempt to talk a good game again, should Illusion present itself, there is this insurance policy to review. To remember. To Know—the wordless words, that rang through the canyon where I sat–This alone Is Real.

While I had always wanted to have an extended silence practice, I hadn’t been planning to do 90 days of silence. I suddenly found the words coming out of my mouth to my family—I am leaving (with your approval) for 90 days silence; tomorrow. The next day, as though picked up by the back of my shirt and set in motion by an unseen hand, I walked into the wilderness of the interior of myself.

There was a Force behind the “decision” for we know we can make creating space for retreats a rather complicated endeavor. What I may share to this point is, to quote Dr. Dale Buegel, who I believe was quoting Swami Rama, “If the bus stops—get on!”

Guidance

Swami Ritavan was, as always has been through the decades, lovingly supportive and encouraging.  He sent me on this journey with guidance on how to read Swami Veda’s book, Silence.  And so it began…and ended so quickly.

Since I prefer to communicate through photos, here is a bit of the photo journey-where I came to feel the wheel of–Silence-Stillness-Love–continuously spinning.

First Day. Coming from Hanumanji’s new temple. Here is Hanumanji flying over the Mother Temple. “When I don’t know who I am, I serve you. When I know who I am, I AM you.”

Akasha. Early in the silence, watching the words bounce around my noggin like a pinball game comically accelerated. Cloud watching. Eventually, only akasha.

This Being and I met early on and the name was clearly announced–Anguish.

I don’t know what happened to being, but his expression seems clear. His enormous structure is the size of a cottage at SRSG. He is situated across the canyon from a Divine Mother of Mercy temple. Metamorphosis–it can be painful, excruciating even. It needs to metabolized, and made an offering. When one is being burnt and in the stage before the phoenix rises, when one is gutted to the core, stripped of everything familiar—what remains to sustain—shraddha.

Each day I have hiked the ridge, coming to know each rock, cactus and contour of the Earth. When I went back to find Anguish, he could not be found. The enormous Anguish vanished.

This day, sitting on the meditation rock on top of the world, something started up—touching the rock with open palm—Earth-“I” am Earth the Earth is “me.” Sun-Sun. A breeze came up-Wind. Wind. Standing on Earth licked by Wind, pierced by Sun. Pulsing. Water—the faint sound of the Rio below in the canyon. Water. Up and all around—akasha. Merged. Evaporated. This Alone IS Real. Tears…

Sunrise, Moonset. Who am I? Who Aren’t I! Nothing. Everything. Nothing.

Yo soy la luz. I am the Light.

I am grateful to my family for their loving support, for the freedom to be picked up and placed lovingly on the side of a mountain for ninety days. My heartfelt gratitude to Swami Ritavan for his guidance and course corrections along the winding path—ever present and watchful. I am grateful for the grating moments in the interior wilderness that have eroded sharp edges, for the piercing 100 degree sun for months, that kindly melted me from the inside out, for the rare breeze that kept me from collapsing, for the indescribable beauty offered each day by Mother in the form of the mountain, for Rigoberto, the lizard, that kept me company in the hut night and day, for the good laugh of being chased down a secluded road while cycling, by a large dog and feral goat, and for the Grace of the Guru whose love knows no bounds and to whom I humbly pray, Thy Will Be Done.