Lessons From A Perfect Day

Today was a perfect day.

Mom picked me up just after 9am. It was a clear December morning in the PNW, with the gentle winter sun crisping the chilled air beautifully. It was the ideal kind of air for bottomless nose breaths, and it called us to the mountain like moths to a flame. But first, coffee.

We stopped at Kiss Coffee on NE Ainsworth, a tiny hole-in-the-wall shop near my house that has blessingly managed to stay open for curbside pick-up. I ordered a cardamom cinnamon oat milk latte, mom ordered maple bourbon. Both were impeccable, and thus our day was off to an impeccable start.

The drive to Mt. Saint Helens flew by as we caught up in effortless conversation, and before we knew it, we were wrapped in a blanket of evergreen boughs. We hadn’t planned a particular route, but instead opted for an impromptu-style trip, following intuitive spirit whims to the Marble Mountain Sno-Park. There we found a gloriously snowy (but not too treacherous) loop trail that led us through a patch of pristine forest.

It was my first time hiking in the snow, and it had been a long time for mom. The pack was about 1ft deep on average, but some of the drifts were more like 2 ½ - 3ft. We quickly learned that when navigating tricky terrain, it’s generally a good idea to walk in the footprints of those that came before. But sometimes, it’s best to forge your own path. Trust your feet to know which is right in the moment.

At some point a small stream appeared along the trail, zig-zagging its way merrily down the mountain, so we stopped for a moment to take in the trickling sound. I began to hear its music, starting with the tonic or keynote (the first note of the scale). I hummed the note on “Om”, repeating it until the rest of the melody came to me. I closed my eyes as I sang, letting my other senses focus my intention on resonating with this special place. The air fell still, and the trees got quiet. I learned that when you take the time to make an offering, the Universe takes the time to receive. When I finished, mom commented on the silence and stillness of the trees as they respectfully listened to my song. She told me they had accepted my gift, and we continued on.

We talked and laughed our way through the pure, vibrant forest, careful with our steps but often plunging shin-deep into snow drifts. The forest had so much to teach us, so much to share. We soaked up every minute, discussing everything we observed with equal parts eager curiosity and humbled reverence. Eventually we came upon a small clearing where the sun shone through unobstructed, turning the ice crystals into a sea of radiant diamonds. I was struck by the array of beauty, and knew that this place had a song to share with me too.

As I listened, tuning into the resonant pitch of this special place, I reached down to pick up a handful of snow. I felt it melt and drip, the liberated water droplets cascading down my fingertips to reunite with their frozen counterparts below. As my hand turned cold, I heard the tonic of this snowy site reverberating in my head. I hummed along, “Om”-ing my way around the scale until the melody started to take shape.

This channeling experience was different. Deeper. I have no idea how long we stood there, me singing freely with the mountain, mom praying and helping amplify the delicate, sacred portal we opened. All I know is that my consciousness expanded far beyond the usual perimeter of my electromagnetic field. As I dropped my jaw to darken the vowel and allow for more space, my voice growing stronger and louder, I felt the vibration of my body align with the mountain. A sensation of weightlessness came over me as my skull reverberated blissfully. It’s as if I could feel the heartbeat of the mountain beating in time with mine. As if every particle of my being was resonating at the same frequency as this place, in a natural symbiosis that carried my energy on the breeze. I experienced the physical sensation of becoming one with this majestic mountain, through the divine gift of music.

Toward the end of my song, I heard mom whisper gleefully, “you brought a bird!” I didn’t open my eyes or stop singing, but I began listening for birds. Suddenly, I could hear them. Where there had been silence when we stopped, there were now at least five distinct birdsongs nearby. I smiled brightly as I sang. The mountain and her dwellers heard me! These sweet little messengers, nature’s musicians, came to harmonize with me! I felt incredibly honored and deeply moved.

When I finished my song, my little dulcet friends continued on, filling the brisk air with their silvery tunes. With eyes still shut, laughing as I cried tears of unmitigated awe, I reached for mom’s hand. She squeezed it tightly, helping guide my far-flung spirit safely back to my body. Birdsongs faded one-by-one as each flew back from whence she came, until we were left in silence once again.

My eyes gently fluttered open. I was greeted by the brilliant, blinding light of snow reflecting sun. Held graciously by the beaming beauty of the scene and the lingering sensation of the moment, I was thoroughly at peace. I learned that if you offer your gifts devotedly and with an open heart, the Universe will send you gifts in return. I thanked the mountain for the enchanting affirmation, and we resumed our trek.

Another hour or so of snow striding later, we made it back to the car. It was midday now, and we were cold and tired of walking. We decided to go for a drive until dinnertime, at which point we’d head to the nearest town to eat, then back up the mountain to stargaze.

During our drive we talked about the amazing experience we had on the trail, the state of the world, healing our shared ancestral and familial trauma, and our dreams. We discussed the organization we want to create, where we can bring together thought leaders, indigenous wisdom-keepers, scientists, artists, musicians, and visionaries. Where we can advocate for the inevitable and long overdue intertwining of science, spirituality, and age-old ways of knowing. Where we can bring together a diverse community of like-minded optimists - seekers with hopeful visions of an enlightened humanity - and go about manifesting that reality in collaboration. We dream of establishing a sanctuary for the unfolding renaissance, where all people and ideas are welcome, and our sights are aligned on one goal: ushering in the golden age of peace and prosperity for people and the planet.

Along the way, we stopped at a roadside waterfall so I could learn its song. It was a joyous melody. I was captivated by the stark contrast of this energetic, nimble song as compared to the two more pensive refrains of the loop trail. I learned that we as humans are the embodiment of all aspects of nature, which is why we can perceive so many facets. Sometimes we exhibit the delicate dance of a zig-zag stream, sometimes the powerful veneration of a snowy clearing, and sometimes the swift symphony of a spirited waterfall. The key is to know yourself well enough to meet yourself wherever you are without judgement. Learn your song, sing it proudly, and never stop listening.

Before heading down the mountain, we stopped once more, this time at a west-facing vista to watch the sun sink behind the evergreen foothills. I put on my favorite Native American flute playlist and sat near the edge of the cliff to meditate. I sent prayers of gratitude to the Earth and to the Sky, thanking the mountain and all the forces that conspired to produce this day. When a drum-heavy song queued, I got up and danced with the wind, stretching and swinging my body in euphoric ecstasy. I asked mom to say a prayer, and then we were on our way down to dinner.

After a lovely meal at a little diamond in the rough restaurant called the Lone Fir Cafe in Cougar, Washington, we started back up the mountain once more, this time in search of stars. We had already picked out the perfect spot, near the trail we had hiked earlier in the day. We parked at a fork in the road near the biovac, with a big expanse of sky and a clear view of the mountain (although that hardly mattered in the dark). I got out of the car, looked up, and caught my breath. Above me were millions of glittering jewels, strewn gracefully across a midnight blue sky. I could clearly see the band of our Milky Way, the ultimate signifier of our home address. I hadn’t seen the stars like this in years.

I climbed up on the hood of the car and mom grabbed a blanket for me. I laid back comfortably against the windshield, cozy above the still-warm engine, and lost myself in the spectacle of the clear night sky. I let my mind and my eyes wander, taking in all the different colors and sizes and arrangements of these unfathomably colossal beings. I thought about the quantum physics I’ve learned, about the fractal nature of our universe, and pondered the connection of stars and particles. Solar systems and atoms. Galaxies and cells. I contemplated the infinite pattern of which we are a part, in which the endlessness stretches out in both directions - big and small. You can keep zooming in on the universe forever and you will never find its end; you can keep magnifying a subatomic particle forever and you will never find its end.

The thing that binds it all? Space. There is as much space between atoms as there is between stars. It's an elusive phenomena for which we have not yet found an appropriate word. Energy. Consciousness. Dark matter. God. We know now that the vacuum of space is not actually empty, as we once believed. It is, in fact, incredibly dense, with an infinite supply of energy. Some physicists are now exploring the possibility that space may be the source of all matter and life. As I gazed up at the immaculate tapestry of glowing gems, I thought, we are on the precipice of grasping one of humanity’s greatest questions: how did we get here? The ‘why’, though, will still be left up to the philosophers among us.

In the midst of my contemplations, a song began to bubble up within me. I smiled as I understood that it’s not just the Earth that has songs - everything does, including the stars. I softly hummed their lilting, introspective tune. I felt my heart swell in amazement that I, such a small creature compared to the stars, am able to hear their songs. Then again, music knows no bounds. And I remembered the interconnectedness that binds all things - space. In our infinite fractal Universe, I contain just as much space as the limitless expanse up there. My body is made up of atoms and particles that are Universes onto themselves. If I am made of stars and galaxies, why shouldn’t I be able to sing their songs?

It got late, and we headed home. But just like the memories, the lessons I learned from this perfect day will live forever in my heart. Walk in the footsteps of those that came before, but trust your feet to tell you when it’s best to forge your own path. Take time to offer, and the Universe will take time to receive. Offer your gifts with a true and open heart, and the Universe will send gifts in return. We embody all facets of nature. Learn to listen for and sing your song proudly in each moment. Follow your intuition to moments of deep worship, for they nourish you. Everything is interconnected. You can feel both insignificant and infinite at the same time.

And sometimes, you have to get lost in wonder to find your center.