Mountain Magic

The sounds of drumming and singing filled the air as we sat around our campfire, making dinner for the children. The air was already chilly, for at 9,000 feet the temperature drops below freezing at night, even in July. We were all exhausted from hiking up and down the mountain all day, hauling water, visiting Kiddie Camp and other kitchens.

George’s bright blue eyes sparkled as he whispered, “I love you” and led me by the hand down the mountain. We had spent most of our time at the Rainbow Gathering tending to family duties and helping my friend with her’s. Between the two of us there were thirteen, quite a tribe. Her husband was on his last legs and nearly blind, and her youngest child a 1-year-old, so we helped as much as we could.

But tonight was our night. So we hiked down the mountain, holding hands and singing, hoping to find the Bliss Pit I had been looking out for. There were at least fifty large kitchen camps set up around a five square mile radius, and about ten thousand people. The purpose of the Gathering is to peacefully assemble and demonstrate the power of Love and peace. The high holy day is the 4th of July, when silence is observed til noon, at which point the Om circle is held in the main meadow.

This was our special night, and as we had just become engaged after a long breakup, our bliss was quite palpable. When we reached the bottom of the mountain we found some friendly folks at a few campfires and eventually stumbled across the Bliss Pit.

This fire was intense – the wood set up like a pyramid, the heat radiating with ferocity and warming us to the core. Beautiful people were dancing around ecstatically as several drummers created magic beats.

We waited until there was a space for us to join in with the dancers, and I lost myself in abandon as the rhythm carried us away. Tears rolled down my cheeks as my body swayed and my feet carried me faster and faster around the fire. Sweat began to trickle down my spine, and I began to sing . . .

There is a lady who rides the night sky. Watch her spin as she flies on by. She is within us, beginning to end. Our grandmother, our sister, our friend. She is the needle and we are the thread, she is the weaver and we are the web. She changes everything she touches and everything she touches changes.

And . . .

You are my brother, you are my sister, you are my lover, you are my friend. You are the beginning, you are the center, you are beyond the end. And I love you so, for you help me see, to see you in all, is to see you in me. I’m in you and you’re in me. I’m in you and you’re in me.

And . . .

We are opening up, like a lotus flower, spread our wings and let our Spirits take us higher. We are opening. We are opening.

We danced and sang in that circle for hours. People told us we werea beautiful couple and embraced us. Filled with joy and bliss, we finally climbed up the mountain and made love in our tent with billions of bright stars shining upon us.

That was one of the best nights of my life. Never in a million years would I have imagined that this love would later deteriorate, that one day I would have to run away with my kids in the middle of the night. But the magic of that mountain night is not any less sweet regardless of what happened later.

It’s the beautiful memories I wish to preserve. I did change his name, of course. There were many other beautiful moments during that adventure, which I wrote an entire short story about and will share that some time in the near future. Time has a way of slipping from me too quickly!

Rainbow Blessings of Love to you all, my friends. Thanks for following my blog.


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