Living in the Presence of Mount Kailash

On the Kailash Kula call yesterday, Ram-da spoke about a yatra beginning the moment one takes the intention to complete it. From that perspective, we have all been living in the presence of Kailash for many weeks, and even many months, by now. Yesterday a number of us also spoke about sensing a different relationship to the circumstances of our lives during this period, even if we can’t put our finger on what that difference is. I, too, am having this experience: my daily activity has a different flavor. It is the flavor of “before Kailash” and “in preparation for Kailash.”

Another aspect of this is beginning to form connections with our fellow travelers. We all knew, from the beginning, there would be companions on the journey, we just didn’t know who they would turn out to be. Now, as if reflected in the still waters of a high mountain lake, we can see each other’s faces coming into focus alongside our own.

 

My plans for the summer, made before we began preparing for the yatra in earnest, included the opportunity for three long day hikes at high altitudes (here in the U.S., 3000 meters is considered very high!) Solo journeys into “the backcountry,” as we call it, have for many years been an opportunity to connect with the exquisite and serene aspects of the phenomenal world, and with the spirit animating them: Adhya Shakti herself.

 

This summer, however, these miniature treks have taken on a rich new aspect: they have become training for the Kailash parikrama. Many continuous hours spent on the trail have become a chance, not merely to contemplate Her, but to consider my approach to the abode of Shiva and to the spirit of Shiva Himself. This is, in one sense, a daunting prospect. Who am I to come before the One who burned Kamaa himself to ashes? How can I best make such an approach?

Of course, the sadhanas Ma and Ram have so lovingly offered are the foundation for all of us. But merely doing these practices, in a rote way, is surely not enough. We must, and I must, search our hearts as well. Experience teaches that, even in daunting circumstances, there is always a way forward, if only I am patient and humble enough to find it.

 

On a previous visit to the U.S., Ma and Ram met a spiritual friend named Millard, who is a specialist in the sadhana of prayer. Millard likes to say, “I may not know the best way to pray, but I can always pray to be shown the best way to pray.” Similarly, during hours alone on the trail, I can affirm my intention, ask for grace and blessings, and express the desire to come before Lord Shiva in a good way, honestly, and with a good heart. Synchronizing these inner prayers to the sound of my footsteps falling onto the path, feeling the heart pumping out its continual rhythmn, I can seek silent guidance about the best way to approach Him even if I don’t know that that best way is. This itself becomes a kind of dance: a dance of moving, witnessing natural beauty, and praying all at once.

 

Having the presence of Kailash in our lives, in this new way, also means discovering fortuitous signs related to the journey. Not necessarily because there are more signs than usual – I suspect such auspicious signs surround all of us, all the time -- but because our perceptions have been sharpened and expanded. Because, though we have not yet commenced the outer journey, the holy mountain is already present in our inner lives. And so we occupy our outer lives in a different way.

 

Along those lines, I was in San Francisco a couple of days ago when I had the unexpected darshan of an image of Ma Parvathy, bride and beloved of Shiva, as a dancer. Perhaps this dancing form of Parvathy is more common than I realize, but I had never seen an image of Her in this form before. She was far from home, which invoked the sorrow and weight of history. At the same time, in terms of my own small journey, encountering her felt auspicious: a lila pointing to the affinity between Parvathy Ma, the dancing Baul under whose auspices we undertake this pilgrimage, and her namesake, the divine Mother Parvathy, whose dance is this very world: She who holds all of us --- lovingly, frighteningly, playfully -- in Her spell. I share a photograph of Her, here, taking Her appearance in San Francisco the other day as an instance of Shakti Devi Herself winking at all of us, Her pilgrims, who –though we may not know the best way to come before Her, and though we are always with Her -- are nevertheless preparing to come before Her on a new occasion, in a new – and timeless -- way.