Be Here Now

The Cross, Palm Desert, California

Palm Desert, California, is set in the Coachella Valley, surrounded by the Santa Rosa Mountains. Perfect hiking terrain. This being my first time in California, I was eager to experience the desert.I set out this morning to hike to the Cross with my husband and my sister in law.

This was, we were told, a moderate level of difficulty hike, and it was described as a spiritual experience. As one who has always felt a strong connection to the natural world, I went with an open heart.

As we got out of the car at the trail entrance, I looked up at the forbidding desert terrain ahead. The landscape opened up beyond the surrounding slopes, and I could see a narrow trail winding up the mountain side, hugging jagged cliffs. A steady stream of walkers could be seen at different points, some of them walking on the top of the ridge way above us.

I couldn’t see the cross.

The trail started gently, flat at first, then slowly rose to curve around the hillside. The three of us commented on the majestic beauty of the mountains, and wondered aloud about how long it would take us to reach the cross.

What started out as a group outing soon became a personal challenge for each one of us. As we hiked up the mountain, we each became aware of how much concentrated effort would be needed to do this. Each one of us would face our challenge alone.

My sister-in-law loves to provide a play by play account of our group experiences.

My husband has two titanium knees.

I am afraid of heights.

Very quickly, the trail narrowed as we began to climb. On one side, the stratified rocks jutted out of the mountainside, seemingly supporting the soaring peaks. On the other, the trail’s edge fell off into deep canyons. The path was uneven in places, and spiralled up one peak after the other.

We rounded the corner. On my left, the arid, rocky mountain revealed its steep slope. On my right, the edge of the trail dropped into a canyon. I scanned the horizon across the void. I was surrounded by mountains.The only way forward was up.

Increasingly aware of the level of mindfulness required to do this safely, we proceeded in silence. My sister in law found grounding in her pace, my husband walked cautiously, and I became aware of the little devil on my shoulder. We looked back at regular intervals to check on each other.

The winding path measured about three feet in width in most places, but often narrowed in steeper segments. The corners were especially sharp, leaving no room for missteps or distraction. I started leaning into the mountain for support, but I soon figured out this was a bad idea. The angle would destabilize me. I stood up straight, rooting my feet into each step. Looking anywhere but at my own feet triggered the pull of the void. The vastness of the place, the immensity of this time, made my head spin. How would I do this?

A voice from my heart whispered:

• “One step at a time.”

I listened. There was no room for fear here.

• “Stay here.”

There was nowhere else to be. I kept my eyes on the terrain.

-“Watch the loose rocks”.

The obstacles kept me focused. I stepped cautiously over the pile of rubble ahead.

-“You can go now.”

I walked several meters on level ground, progressing up the trail.

-“Look at where you are.”

I stopped on the widening path as it turned yet another corner, and centred myself into the mountain as I took in the awe inspiring panorama. I saw that I was in a giant arena, composed of cliffs and canyons so deep I couldn’t see the bottom. The sun lit up one side of the mountain across the canyon, while the other was in complete darkness. There were no half measures here. It was a place of sharp contrasts in every way. Cerulean sky, bright yellow ochre land streaked with reds, and deep shadows formed clearly defined motifs.

Every once in a while, the little devil on my shoulder would ask:

• “How will I do this?”

From within came the answer:

• “Like this. You are doing this. This is how you do it.”

With time, I learned that I could stand upright and admire the world around me without leaning. Leaning would mean not taking my place here. I had what I needed within to be safe. I was a small speck in this vastness, but I was also a part of it. I was part of a world that welcomed me, as long as I focused on my connection to it. I would be safe as long as I stayed here, now, rooted in this time and place. That was the key.

I couldn’t tell you how long it took before we spotted the 30 foot cross at the very top of the mountain. At the top, we finally took pictures. I don’t have many pictures of the spectacular views on the way up because I could not allow myself the distraction.

I am not sure if I am still afraid of heights. Maybe not. Maybe I know now, from another place within me, that the power of my choice lies in the awareness of my connection to what is here, now, where I belong.