The experience of knowing
Earlier this week, I went to my friends’ house in Juniper Valley, CA. One thing I love about Abbie and Jack’s place is there’s a spectacular view of the north side of Mount Shasta. To me, the mountain looks more volcanic from this perspective, which I find quite powerful.
On this particular day, as I looked out their windows, all I could see were the hills covered with low brush. A thick layer of clouds and fog covered everything behind these hills, so it looked as if no mountain existed. Mind you, Mount Shasta rises 14,162 feet high, so it isn’t something you’d typically miss. But it was no where to be found. In many ways, this became a perfect metaphor for the “unseen.” If someone who had never experienced Mount Shasta was with me, they could have easily doubted the mountain’s presence.
This got me curious . . . what if I knew – because I experienced it myself – that Mount Shasta was right there, BUT what if clouds completely covered the peaks for a week, a month, a year? What if I brought a friend with me, said “look, it’s right over there” but it was now invisible? Would my friend believe me? Would I expect her to? As the weeks or years went on, would I myself begin to doubt that a 14,000+ foot summit reigned less than 30 miles away?
I remember my Aunt Maryanne coming from Columbus, GA to Burlington, VT where I lived. It rained for the whole time she was visiting, and I had wanted so badly for her to experience the Adirondack Mountains, the soft shades of blue and green layered beyond Lake Chaplain. This was one of my favorite views. But day after day, all you could see was the lake, with a flat horizon line where the water faded into the fog. She joked that there were no mountains in Vermont. But she had spend much of her life in upstate New York, so I knew that she knew why I loved this view. But I really hoped she would get to see its beauty with me.
And so it is with mystical experiences. When you are fortunate enough to encounter the divine, you often want to share it, to bring others to see the majestic peaks you know are so real, so inspiring. But from where they stand, or due to unexpected fog of daily life, they may not experience what you have. In fact, they may simply say “there’s nothing there” and wonder how you can be so sure. No matter how much you explain, they aren’t convinced. “It’s right there” you say pointing, “behind those clouds.” “Yeah, right,” they reply, “I don’t see a thing.”
During these times, it’s important to remember your own truth, your own direct experience that you know is real. The nature of spiritual awareness is like this, in my opinion. Some days it is so obvious and you can’t miss the clarity or the message. Other days, you doubt that you ever touched such profound depths (or heights).
During these times, I prefer to keep believing and get in touch with my inner spirit. I prefer to KNOW on a deep level that the mountain I have seen IS still there, no matter how long it will take for it to reappear. So I leave you with this: Remember that sometimes “believing is seeing,” not the other way around.