Kundalini and the Art of Being: The Awakening

(Dana P.) #1
Kundalini and the Art of Being ... 129

In the morning, the rain was coming down harder than ever. It was
the eighth day of my trip, and it had been raining for the past six days.
I realized that I was in a bit of a predicament. My tent, clothes, and
the rest of my gear were becoming increasingly wet since, although
my tent was holding up pretty well, I didn’t have a waterproof cover-
ing for my backpack while hiking. I had no way to dry things out at
the end of the day, since making a fire was impossible. Soon enough,
my clothing and sleeping bag would be downright drenched, posing
the threat of hypothermia.
I checked my somewhat vague Forest Service map and found that
the trail leading up the mountain eventually connected with a jeep
road, which in turn led to a paved road—though still far from any
outposts of civilization. I noted this as a last resort, in case I needed
to change the course of my trip. I packed up my damp clothes, damp
sleeping bag, and wet tent, and began hiking up the steep grade away
from the roar of the ocean.
I hiked up the trail, rising steadily, for what felt like forever. The
rain intensified into steady sheets, accompanied by gusts and gales
of wind that seemed intent on lifting me right off the trail. I hiked on
and on up the steep grade. I stopped mid-day for a brief lunch, then
continued along what began to feel like a never-ending trail. Each
time I reached the top of a ridge, there was yet another long, uphill
climb still awaiting me.
After five or six hours of persistently steep uphill hiking, I finally
reached the junction for the trail that headed south along the ridge.
This would commit me to another four days of hiking, at least. I was
totally exhausted, soaking wet, my pants and boots were drenched,
my hands were chilled, and ironically I was now out of drinking wa-
ter, despite the water falling all around me. The steep angle of the
grade had provided no streams along the way, other than shallow
rivulets of water flowing through the mud.
I unbuckled my pack and threw it to the ground, then hiked down
the trail a little ways to see how things looked. Just as I rounded the
first hill, I was greeted by a sudden blast of wind that practically

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