Mt Shasta On It's Own Terms
Stories abound that 14,000 foot Mt. Shasta in California is "the" place to visit if
you're on a spiritual quest. Many consider it akin to a sacred pilgrimage to go to the mountain because on the mountain one is sure to experience UFO's, Ascended Masters, Lemurians or Atlanteans, the White Brotherhood, Elders, Crystal Cities, Vortexes and every New Age idea you can imagine. And so, we did our own research about Mt Shasta, called "spiritual leaders" and tour guides living there, then investigated everything we were told.
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| Mt Shasta |
Some of what we were told felt prickly; a few were clearly selling tours; and some we talked to were downright incorrect. One person gave us useful information about dry conditions and fire hazards and said, "Go to the Visitor's Center before doing anything else." That was worthwhile!
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| Panther Meadows Springs |
The town is about 7 miles to the trail-head of the mountain which dominates the skyline. The town is very small with not much to show for such a major destination. We used the Best Western as a base for the surrounding area because of its location and convenient restaurant. Especially as most restaurants in town were closed by the time we came down the mountain.
With the map provided by the Visitor's Center and a small guide-book created by local shops as a form of advertising we set off on our own expedition. After passing
a few campsites we walked well-marked trails leading up the mountain. Its year-round snow covered face looms over all approaches like a watchful guardian.
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| Grandmother Ponderosa |
The climb is demanding but spectacular. At 7,500' the trail opened to an extraordinary meadow filled with brilliantly colored flowers. The border of the meadow was surrounded by tall firs and pines. It was like stepping into an Impressionistic painting and becoming part of the scenery. With no one else around we reverently breathed the serene pure feelings of Panther Meadows in homage to the mountain. Then we heard the sound of running water and soon discovered it was a spring bubbling above and below the meadow. The Native American Wintu tribe believe humans first bubbled into creation at this spring. It was easy to agree with that because the meadow made us feel we'd stumbled upon the water kingdom in the Garden of Eden.
Everything on the mountain felt immense, historical, grand in scope, and waiting to tell a story. As we continued to climb the mountain we entered groves of towering 180' Ponderosa Pines. They grew in circles with the long dead great-grandmother tree stumps standing witness to the newer growth of daughter and grand-daughter trees. Respecting the burnt out shells of the ancient trees, we placed stones found at their base into a circle and entered a meditative communion with the trees. The sweet smells of the trees carried on the winds of the air kingdom as we gently chanted to the glory of what they had been and what they'd left as a legacy.
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| Spring Source |
This visit to Mt Shasta was a reverent tribute. So, what did it share with us during those days on the mountain? As if aware that someone was really listening, it conveyed its 593,000 year old life story. Observant of what it was showing, we
experienced its extremes in temperatures - warm below and cold above. We felt the heat retained in the enormous boulders we leaned on even as the air cooled us. We drank ice-cold water from its pure springs while butterflies danced around us. While walking its many trails it shared its violent volcanic past while regaling us with its present peaceful beauty. In its groves and meadows and lava fields it told us stories of death and resurrection and death again. It reminded us of the ever changing cycles of nature and that nothing is permanent. And it suggested that in this natural cathedral, all the history of the earth could be found, including the arrival of humans from its watery depths.
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| Lava Fields |
We met the mountain on its own terms and were well served in what she revealed: The majesty of life, death, rebirth and continuity!
Jo Mooy - May 2014
dire. 
"What are you not seeing?"
confirmation on the insights from the most unusual sources.
anything except how she chooses to allow the events with her father to affect her." She's gone through the experience with him for three months and she now sees how he helps the workers who are caring for him. Some of them told her that "because of your father I want to get up and go to work because I see the difference I make in someone's life." Her father Al, an alchemical spiritual master in the end days of his life, (though as he says not planning to leave anytime soon) reminds us that the work we do (in illness) is good, is meaningful, and is valuable to someone.
time opens, we re-imagine what we want the year to be and how we plan to change. It doesn't matter that we did the same thing a year ago. Eagerly the stuff we no longer care about is wiped away, replaced by the annual dreams of new beginnings. Much like chasing fireflies we rocket to the new, next, best thing, convinced that this year things will be so much different. And we'll follow through. By the end of January, whatever we said we were going to do is placed on the shelf and forgotten until the next new year. 
When a new, bright firefly appears on the horizon, there's a headlong rush to seek out and get answers that can otherwise be obtained through quiet 
to Yogananda to "
normal increase in darkness during December when the sun is far south
in the northern hemisphere. But this ominous shroud of darkness goes
way beyond the seasonal change. Darkness permeates ordinary
conversations between friends causing short-tempered or angry
responses. The Light of Respect and Good Manners is depleted as
sinister or one-dimensional agendas reign over reasoned discourse that
would benefit the whole. In this darkness, one cannot rationally assess
any points of an argument due to the din of many voices speaking over
one another. Dark blame is everywhere and always levied on someone else
because "they" are wrong and "we" are right. 
progressed much beyond the words of Thomas Paine in 1776, "These are
the times that try men's souls." But he also said if 'sunshine
patriots' did not shrink from service they would be deserving of the
love and thanks of all men and women. 
and the dark days begin to recede. Within six months, (not even a
nanosecond in Cosmic time,) the opposite occurs. Just as it feels
darkness is forever, light returns. The pendulum of Light and Dark is
always in balance, rising and falling, though we get trapped in
believing otherwise.
misplaced in a California State Park filled with families laughing and
happily enjoying summer vacations. We looked around for the source of
the sound. Then we saw him.
enjoy the music of life. 
One particular autumn shaped my life forever more. Our mom cooked good
food that was as delicious as it was nutritious. In fall she prepared
for the holidays by baking cookies - lots of them in a great variety of
shapes, flavors and textures. Cookies are a treat that nourish us on so
many levels. They bring joy to the taste buds, a lightness to the mind
and a healing of the soul. 
movement well. When we got home my dad would lay 2x4s on the ground
and nail them together to make a pen to hold the walnuts while the outer
shells dried out in the sun for weeks. When they were ready to be
hulled he took his large carpenter's hammer smashing the thick outer
shell tossing them onto tin baking pans. Then each evening we'd all dig
out the precious tasting walnut meat for the inevitable holiday baking
to come. All of this lay in the depths of my psyche as we hunted for
the round treasures hidden under the fallen leaves of the great old
trees.
I think there were more walnuts to be had but something had changed and
we headed home. The bags of walnuts were piled in the backyard
forgotten now as we gathered round as mom and dad opened the purse
tentatively. My parents were honest hard-working folks so we could see
they felt like sneaks just opening the bag to see if there was some id
in it. Even before they'd opened it there was talk of placing ads in
the personals to see if the owner could be found. Each article was
removed and placed carefully on the kitchen table, some tissue, a
wallet, a comb, a huge diamond ring. Even to a kid's eye, you could
tell this was very valuable, And then the one thing they had hoped to
find, an address book which identified the owner. 
second thought. I could tell by the smiles on my parent's faces that
their reward was the warmth that comes with bringing great joy to
someone and in this case someone they would never meet. Then the
incident was forgotten and we went back to our rhythm, the walnuts were
laid in the sunshine to dry, children went to school, fathers to work
and mom kept the home fires burning. 
dad was adamant. "You are going to get something for yourself;
something that will make you happy." A few weeks later, a used upright
piano arrived. My mother who had learned to play as a child sat down
and was in her element. 
born. Breaking speed limits across three states, the two-hour drive
took me to the hospital where I saw him in person for the first time.
When his mother was a few months pregnant with him, I'd seen him as a
spark of light on my bedroom wall quite a few times. I would hear a
delightful humming sound in the wee hours of the night, open my eyes,
and see this spark of light dancing on the walls. I knew who he was
even before she knew it was a him. At the hospital, he was wrapped up
in a blue and white flannel blanket. I checked his tiny hands, no
bigger than my thumb, and wondered what this 'crystal boy,' born in the
last year of the 20th century, would create with those hands. What type
of person would he become?
way he said it I was sure he'd visited that place not that long ago.
It was the start of our many unconventional conversations
together.
something to say, one listens. He creates magical virtual cities on
his laptop, demonstrating concern that water and the air remain pure
while describing how neighbors and countries can work easily with one
another. 
seeds of tolerance in all of humanity. It's what they came to do.
in other than the approved area! Meditation was only allowed in your room or the meditation hall! 
reality occurs. The breath becomes a living entity. It can be hot or cold, moist or dry, rapid or slow. It can go in one nostril or both. And during each sit, the experience is different because each breath is different.
me or I it. I simply watched it, following my breath, aware of the sensations of fear give way to acceptance coursing through my body. Then the scorpion moved on. I also wanted to experience the magic that they promised would occur on Day 10.
spasms, muscular aches and pains, chills, and total exhaustion. Walking fifty feet to the mailbox was like running a marathon requiring hours of rest. The doctor confirmed my immune system was compromised from a similar virus I'd contracted in India. He prescribed rest while monitoring it for pneumonia or bronchitis.
required to do anything was non-existent. I couldn't do my daily meditation practices because I couldn't breathe and the coughing was constant. In fact, all I could do was sleep, stare out the window, sleep, watch TV, and sleep some more. It turned out to be a preordained retreat in its own way.
kitchens and bathrooms. With my previous life immersed in daily spiritual pursuits, mindlessly watching TV was a radical behavioral change. But something else was occurring.
I looked up molting in the dictionary. It means to cast off or shed skin, feathers and the like that will be replaced with new growth. The Zen virus had become my guide. It taught me to take time for trivial pursuits. It gave me permission to do nothing if I wanted to. It showed me how to be quietly observant. It held no judgments. It allowed me to be present moment by moment. And it reminded me that it would lurk in the cells of my body in case I forgot the lessons.