Moving Up the Mountain

So today I made it up the mountain. Mount Hood, that is. This beacon of light and power in the city of Portland, Oregon.

The day began quite slowly, with nine of us getting ready for the day. It was a comedy of errors this morning as we sorted through luggage for just the right clothing for the day, concerned with what the weather would bring us? My dad was on the phone trying to arrange the rental car details, I was ironing the shirt Troy insisted on wearing, Troy was finishing the newsletter we sent out today, everyone was rotating showers while entertaining my cousin's three dogs and two cats. Our time of departure this morning was pushed back from 9 a.m. to 10 a.m., then from 10 a.m. to 11 a.m. and by 11:30, we were all snugly packed into two vehicles ready for the trip up the mountain. But first, there were more stops. First to the Portland sky tram, then to the gas station, then to Whole Foods (gotta love it) for lunch...I began to think we really weren't going to make it by sunset to see this pinnacle in the clouds. It was 3 p.m. and we still had 2 hours to drive.

The day had cleared, and I kept my focus on that mountain as it continued to beckon and whisper. I felt the pulse of it like a heartbeat constant, steady, strong, the life force of this monument feeding the city. Palpable. Why was this seemingly uncontrollable urge mounting in me? It seemed to be taking over, and I knew that I would not be able to leave this city without going there.

So we started the trek up the winding road. The messages from Mount Hood grew stronger, more intense somehow, the urgency increasing and my own heartbeat began fluttering faster in anticipation of what I would encounter at the top. Every twist and turn on the highway up the slope brought more and more danger, the road grew more and more narrow, the barricade blocking us from tumbling off the cliff was nothing more than a metal fence here and there, worn and rusted. One wrong move or distraction and the risk of potentially going off the cliff into nothingness pressed us to quietly charge onward, carefully navigating the course. It occurred to me that the switchback turns started becoming more and more steep, and more and more often. We wouldn't know what each turn would bring us, or what we would see until we turned the corner.

Then we would get around a turn and look off into the distance, the valley covered in lush green trees, the vegetation welcoming us, the intense beauty of it all with the sun streaming through the clouds...God are you there? I mean, God you really are there...I mean here...and everywhere. I feel it now. I know that inside. It is the most clear when I let go and experience and feel the danger of the risk, faithfully charging onward. No fear, God. NO FEAR HERE. I surrender now, what am I opening up to, what whispers on my heart will you have me understand today?

We reach the top. My breath catches. I didn't anticipate being so close. The peak of the mountain shoots upward, I feel instantly at peace and overcome with emotion. The mountain says to me to reach to the sky just as it has done. It does so day after day, never complaining, just reaches up, welcomes whoever needs it's power and does not discriminate. It reminds me to take care of others just as it does, and to be a source that helps others experience the thrill of connecting to the spirit within. Just like a mountain. Just like Mount Hood.

As we make our way back down the mountain, I am acutely aware of what I learned from a work of art today, and by the way something I was just as much a part of creating as the rest of the God consciousness. Pride seeps in and for a moment I take just a pinch of credit for being a part of this awesome network of minds that creates such magnificence. I am also aware that just like the winding road of life, this mountain road was at times scary, difficult to navigate, trying and slow, uncertain, requiring courage, hope, faith to climb. When the twists and turns of life are navigated, what's around the corner isn't always so clear. But when you get around it and see that it's o.k., you're still doing it, faithfully and diligently pressing on...that's when the beauty is the most profound.

Thanks, Mount Hood. You are a great teacher, healer and friend.

My best to you all as you make your own way up the mountain.

Peace.
Chanda