It Shouldn’t Be Easy
Why the hell do I do these things?
It’s midday in Malibu Creek State Park. The sun is directly overhead and any shade that I may have looked for was wiped out by the fires earlier this year. The canyon still shows scars of blackened trees hanging onto what’s left of their roots. I’ve veered off the main trail that follows a mostly dry creek bed to the place where they used to shoot the television show M*A*S*H. I’m now on a dusty fire road with a consistent incline that looks as if it leads to one of those telephone wire towers. I’m not sure if that’s what they are, but that’s what comes to mind. The view as I get higher up isn’t much different than the view at the bottom. I’m out here alone sweating my ass off in the blazing August sun hiking up a steep road towards a view that nobody wants to see.
So why am I out here?
The truth is that I’m not really supposed to be here right now. I’m supposed to be driving down to Long Beach with a friend. A couple of weeks ago, we were at Love Long Beach Festival and were invited to come back to participate in a mushroom ceremony. Today is the ceremony.
My understanding of a mushroom ceremony is that it’s a time to come together and utilize the plant medicine for a better understanding of self. One person will lead you through the process and you’ll all sit down in a circle and ingest the mushrooms, set an intention for your journey and then let whatever happens happen. Pretty simple.
But I’ve had an interesting relationship with the magic mushrooms. The closest friends of my youth would tell you about a ski trip up to Hunter Mountain where I lost my mind for an extended period of time, but we don’t have to get into that here. Suffice to say that I try to be very careful with where, when and if I will go down that path.
So we met the guy running this ceremony at a festival and he seemed cool enough. We even spoke on the phone about what to expect and how to prepare during the upcoming week. I spoke to him about my experiences in the past and he assured me that I’d be in a safe space but encouraged me to sit with it for a while and decide if I would be honoring my highest purpose by participating.
So I did.
Over the course of the week, I sat down to meditate with that very question on my mind. And just like the Buddha sitting down determined to not get up until he was enlightened, I decided that I would not get up until I knew for certain if I should go to the ceremony.
The interesting thing about sitting down with a particular question is that you tend to get an answer right away.
Almost immediately. I wouldn’t trust this answer. This is a knee jerk reaction to the question and you might need to shift through a little more shit before you come to a better place.
Tons of reasons kept coming to mind both for and against the ceremony. You don’t know the guy and you might freak out. You might better connect with yourself and come to a greater understanding. Do I really want to drive all the way to Long Beach again? But as I sat and let those answers come and go without any attachment to the answers, a very specific hike came to mind.
When I first came out to California, I bought a set of Mala beads without knowing what they were. Mala beads are religious prayer beads that number 108 and end in a power bead (or guru bead) usually with a symbol or something of that nature to bring it all together. My first pair ended with this interesting little string design of something that looked like an infinity symbol and then two strings with three very small beads hanging at the bottom of each. My initial thought was to count the 108 beads for ‘good’ meditations. I now know that ‘good’ is a bit of a poor way to judge your meditations, but you’ll forgive the novice that I was. I also decided that at the end of the 108 beads, I would save the last six little beads for what I deemed ‘important’ meditations. I’ve since gifted the Mala and the breakdown of the six beads to my sister so I don’t remember all of them but one was completed at Havasupai Falls at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. One was completed at the top of San Jacinto. And one was completed at the top of a no-name fire road in Malibu Creek State Park.
So that’s why I’m here hiking straight up into the sun to answer no question in particular.
I’ve always loved the concept of Mount Olympus. The idea that if you wanted to talk to the Gods, you could but you would have to earn it. I mean think about if for a second. If you’re a god with the power to help mortals, do you really want to help every single mortal that just casually drops down to his knees and politely begs for the things that they want before they go to sleep? Or would you only take the prayers of those seriously committed to their request? The ones who went out of their way and faced trials and tribulations to hear their prayers answered. The ones that could have turned back countless times but they kept going forward because they needed to speak to you. Those are the prayers that I would answer.
I don’t think I’m really looking for a god on top of this fire road. I’d be curious to know what kind of deity would make their home here, but I don’t think he or she would be on the top of my list of beings to pray to. It looks like they got the short end of the stick in picking their earthly abode.
Instead, I keep turning inward. I know that it would be easy to turn around right now and go sit by the creek. I know that I could be down at a bar in Venice somewhere enjoying this beautiful Saturday afternoon. I know that there really aren’t any answers at the top of this road.
But I keep going.
And I keep going because I told myself that I would. After I had decided against the mushroom ceremony as I had felt called to this particular hike, I thought about it all week. I left my whole calendar open Saturday for my little exploration and packed my bag the night before to make sure I didn’t flake on myself. And sure I could turn back right now because the sun was getting hot and the incline was getting steep and my legs were getting tired, but it’s just so damn easy to give up on yourself. And each time that you do, you create a pathway in your brain to give up on yourself next time. And then before you know it, you’re avoiding each and every obstacle that comes your way because it would be easier to go around it. To the untrained eye, obstacles are obstacles.
But obstacles are really just opportunities.
So I got to the top of this damn fire road and sat down for a little meditation. I took out my newer Mala beads that end with an intricately carved Dragon as the power bead and began to delicately pass each bead from one hand to the next. When I got to the Dragon, I took a deep breath and looked out into the canyon.
And it was very quiet.
Just me sitting in quiet meditation and waiting for the wind to give me the answer to a question that I hadn’t even been able to fully formulate in my head. In moments like these you come to the realization that you don’t really need God in the traditional sense of the word. All you need is you. You’re God.
But the only way that you can realize your true divinity is by pushing yourself to a point where you need it to materialize. So don’t settle for easy. Stack up all the obstacles that you can find, lay them out in your path and revel in the opportunity that you’ve created to test yourself. I’m not saying that you’ll succeed in the way you expect, but maybe you’ll find some answers to questions that you didn’t even ask.
That’s just something I’ve been sitting with…