All photos by Jean Tinder

By Jean Tinder

( CLICK ON PLAYER TO BEGIN LISTENING TO THE AUDIO VERSION OF THE ARTICLE )

We know it, but a reminder never hurts: Here and Now is where it’s at.

Recently I disappeared for several days. It wasn’t easy, for there are some very big projects underway at Crimson Circle (which you’ll hear about in a few weeks), and it didn’t seem like a good time to abandon the team. But this vacation had been planned for several months and the busier I got, the more important it felt for my own inner coherence. So, except for the necessary driving, I spent 6 full days immersed in nature and completely disconnected from the rest of the world. It was heaven! But, at first, it seemed like mass consciousness didn’t want to let me go.

Trying to get out of town, there was some kind of mishap on the highway that had traffic backed up for many miles. Nothing was moving, but we managed to find a back road through the mountains and were only delayed by an hour or so. A while later we came around a bend to see heavy black smoke billowing from the roadway just ahead.

Traffic was edging around a pickup truck and camp trailer that were completely engulfed in flames! The occupants were standing far away, watching their vacation go up in smoke. As we gingerly rolled past the inferno, I was surprised by the searing heat from 30 feet away, intense even through closed windows. Half an hour later there was yet another slow-down, the third accident of the day! It appeared that no one was badly hurt, but the lane was blocked by a vehicle crumpled into the guardrail. Then I watched the car in front of us pull off to the side and a young man get out and began running toward the wreck. A young man standing by the smashed car turned to meet him, making a poignant scene as they rushed to hug fiercely, obviously relieved that everyone was okay. 

Grateful that none of these incidents had involved us directly, we continued, pondering the weird feeling of encountering so many accidents. Finally the distractions faded, and the rest of the journey was smooth and graceful. Apparently, mass consciousness had finally let us go.

I’ve always liked camping, enjoying the sights and sounds of nature and being thoroughly offline. I always hope for a spot with lots of space between me and other campers, and far away from noisy generators and RVs. When the weather is good, everyone wants to get outside, but a surprising number of people like to bring modern conveniences along with them (which I just don’t understand, but whatever). Anyway, not long ago I learned about “dispersed camping,” which allows people (in the US) to camp in undeveloped areas of public land on a “first-come, first-served” basis. If you find an available spot, you can stay for up to two weeks at no charge, provided you adhere to the Leave No Trace guidelines. Dispersed camping is “primitive,” meaning there are no facilities such as restrooms or water, so you really need to come prepared.

Before departure, we had located some dispersed camping areas near Zion National Park, and after driving for many hours, began exploring the options. Some of the sites were already occupied, others didn’t have the desired view. Thankful for my trusty 4-wheel-drive SUV, we crept over boulders and through ditches, looking for just the right spot, until suddenly – there it was! 

Grand vistas as far as we could see. No sight or sound of humanity for miles. Steps away from the edge of the mesa where cliffs dropped dozens or hundreds of feet straight down, depending on where you looked. Wide open sky in all directions. It was perfect. 

The next several days were spent hiking and exploring the incredible majesty on display. Valleys with “hanging gardens” of ferns and flowering plants that clung to the cliffs where water seeped out. Slot canyons with towering, sculpted walls displaying artwork wrought by Gaia over eons of time. High desert rock faces marked with the ancient graffiti of native people thousands of years ago. Natural edifices so enormous they were disorientating and evoked the feeling of supernatural design. Trails along creeks and waterfalls, through verdant forests and sandy deserts. In other words, the only thing to do was gawk at nature’s incredible rejuvenating beauty everywhere we turned. 

In the evenings it was back to the grandest campsite ever, preparing meals on a little camp stove, poking at the fire for hours, and falling asleep under the bright moon and endless stars. In the mornings we awoke surrounded by cheerful birdcalls and, coffee in hand, dangled our feet over the edge of the mesa watching the mountains illuminate in the morning light. My mind relaxed and my beingness expanded in the constant sense of awe.

It felt absolutely wonderful, and hardly an hour went by without saying, “I want to remember this! I want to take it with me and be able to revisit this feeling when I’m up against a deadline or buried in technical projects. I don’t want to lose this!” Then I’d remind myself to forget about the future and just be here now, breathing it in and experiencing the wonder, for I can never take with me what I do not fully receive in the moment. 

Eventually of course I returned, somewhat reluctantly, to the usual flow of work and life. But there have already been many times when I could stop, take a breath, remember, and revisit those moments of wonder. And you know what? It’s right here, right now! The feelings, the sounds, the air, the grandeur, the rejuvenation – I DID bring it with me. How is that possible? How can I still feel it when I’m hundreds of miles and many days away? 

When I’m lucky – or, let’s say, more allow-y than usual – it is moments like this when things Adamus has told us manage to converge in real life. For instance, he’s talked a lot about receiving our energy and letting it serve. Lately he’s also mentioned how everything is right here in the Now, not in the ‘past’ or the ‘future’ – an interesting theory until you actually experience it.

The nature of human life is focus, and it’s certainly easier to focus attention on my immediate surroundings than on a mental memory of some other place and time. But if it’s all in the Now and it’s all my energy and – very important – if I have received it all, there’s nothing to stop me from being wherever I want, whenever I want! With just a breath, I’m once again gawping in awe over the edge of a cliff. With the next breath, the wind is in my hair as I ride an e-bike along a gorgeous canyon river. Then I’m staring into the campfire, my mind blissfully on pause, surrounded by nothingness that’s brimming with life. 

Ahh… THIS is where I want to be.

And, on this day in this Now, I also have work to do and deadlines to meet, an article to write and chores to complete, which means THIS is also where I want to be. 

In other words, THIS – right here, right now, wherever and whenever it appears to be – is all me, all within me, all around me, all my energy. Because it’s all me, I can summon, turn to, and luxuriate in any moment I desire. I can also release anything I do not wish to give attention to. 

Yes, I’m still on Earth, in a body and in mass consciousness, so there are some things that seem less flexible than others. But still, it’s up to me whether to receive this experience or fight it, whether to live it fully or push it away. Perhaps resistance is kind of like a magnet in my energy, bringing something back again and again until it’s allowed to settle back where it belongs, in the realm of its creator. 

The thing about receiving is that it makes everything mine. Pushing unwanted things away doesn’t keep them out of my experience; it just brings inner strife. And holding on doesn’t keep them with me any more than I can hold the wind. But receiving every moment – breathing it into me and feeling every shade – somehow fills this space, this moment, this Now, and makes it possible for me to revisit and revise any moment according to my desire. 

I don’t need to go 500 miles for my daily dose of awe and rejuvenation. It is right here, right now. It is THIS.