Vision Quest

This time next week, I'll be one day into a four-day vision quest.  On a mesa at 7500 feet outside of Sante Fe, I will be hanging out.  Drinking water.  Journaliing, maybe.  Drawing, maybe.  Reading, maybe.  Becoming clear, hopefully.  Affirming a path forward, absolutely.

It makes me smile.  It feels like my old camp days.  On my own, a campsite, a simple life, a divine connection.

I need to concentrate, however, on some details.  Am I driving my car to the airport?  Have I arranged the shuttle from the Albuquerque to Sante Fe?  When am I'm going to "Alice's," our amazing outdoor sports store in Greeley, PA (go ahead, take a look how far off the beaten track that is!).  I need a rain suit.

I talk with M. about the details of the quest.

"What about animals?" I ask.  "Largest you'll probably see in a chipmunk.  Everything larger is up higher, where it is cooler and there is water."

"Great," I think to myself.  "What about bugs?"

"Ticks?"

"No. no gnats either.  Maybe black flies, and maybe deer flies.  I make peace with them when I arrive, and tell them this is my space."

"Does it work?" I asked.

"Sometimes," he said.  "And sometimes you have to become aggressive and go after them.  "Die, you bug, die!"

I moved on.  Reptiles?

"Lizards mostly.  A few snakes."

I asked.

"Some rattlers although they don't like people.  In all my time there, I've never seen one."

So it's a tarp, a ground cloth, a sleeping pad, four gallons of water, four days on the mountain.

M. tells me that by the third day I will start to feel lighter, both in the mind, but also in the body as my body starts to consume its own fat for fuel.

It takes the pressure off of my constant recognition that I would like to get rid of any excess fat. Today, I pat my tummy and thank it for feeding me next week.

I'd delighted to be home -- now with my three-year 1/2 time transition ministry on Long Island has ended.  I find it unbelievable that I get to live in this gorgeous river valley and do exactly what I am going to do.

With clarity from the mountain, of course.