Mount Hood. Portland, Oregon

(from "The Journey Continues: A sequel to Apprenticed to a Himalayan Master"):

 Sri M.: From my friend Jerry Jones’s living room in Portland, Oregon, I can see the snow covered Mount Hood. I have always loved the mountains, big or small - the great Himalayan range, the Karokoram, Mount Kailash called Kang Rinpoche (precious jewel) by the Tibetans, the Andes in Chile, the Western Ghats in South India, even the hills of black granite that rise not far away from myresidence in Madanapalle, Andhra Pradesh, lesser known cousins of the great mountain Tirumalai, older than the Himalayas according to geologists, on which stands the famous temple of Lord Venkateshwara. 

Man has been fascinated with mountains from time immemorial and there are mountaineers who try and scale peaks such as Mt. Everest and other high ranges risking their very lives. Some die and some bask in the glory of having conquered the unconquerable. What is it that fascinates us, when we look at the mountains or the deep, dark woods or the flowing rivers, the murmuring brooks, the bright flowers and colourful butterflies, even the toothless, wide eyed innocent smile of an infant? Why do we feel so tranquil, watching a quiet sunset on the seashore or feel so thrilled to be woken up by a bird song or see a blue kingfisher flash past the window? Have you come close to an elephant in the wild or seen a tiger in the jungle licking its paws? I have, and the feeling of awe and wonderment that grips the mind overcomes any fear. 

Years ago, as I wandered in the Himalayas, I pondered over this. I also discussed this with Maheshwarnath Babaji. Anything designed by the human mind is indeed conditioned and corrupted by the limitations of thought. The brain is still limited despite its ability to expand its horizons. Pure nature is not man made and the closer you are to it, the quieter becomes the mind. Perhaps, closeness to nature, eventually ‘de-conditions’ the mind and one is in touch with the infinite being, the Source and reality untouched by limiting concepts and conditioned responses of thought. 

Deep down, in the inner recesses of the psyche, there is this innate longing to shed this conditioning and return to the purity and infinitude which is its original source. Mountains, rivers, deserts, forests, all those not made by man, evoke this longing and in some way take one closer to that original unconditional Being. Once, as I looked at the distant peaks of the snow-clad Daulagiri range, something snapped in my heart and ‘I’ no longer existed. There is only the mountain. I stood towering, a pure white being, looking compassionately down at the world, that stretched before me. 

Mother Nature’s color palette is incredible. Broome, Western Australia

The desire to climb, conquer, expand and so on is again an expression of man’s desire to reach that state of completeness called Purna in the scriptures. But, sadly one is never complete and finally is laid to rest or reduced to ashesbhasmantam shareeram. ‘For dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return’. In the quietness of natural contemplation, as you watch the river wind its way down the valley or the simple white cloud resting on the tip of a dark cliff or the majestic flash of silver streaks of lightning against the night sky, this completeness steals in silently. You cannot force it to come. It comes uninvited and when it does, you cannot hold it back. ‘Let go and rejoice’ says the Isavasya Upanishad. Sheer effortlessness heralds its arrival, like a gentle, fragrant breeze. It is what it is. No words can describe it. 

When man interferes with nature, when concrete monstrosities are built across the mighty flowing rivers, damning (and damming) their free movement, curtailing their natural freedom, disasters are around the corner. Nature in its fury destroys, so that a new order is established. A river finds its own embankment. To understand nature is not to interfere with it but to curtail our immense greed and come to terms with nature. 

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