"Chew it for a few minutes," Rama whispered.
It was as bitter as he said it would be. I soon noticed the deep
blue sky turn to bands of crimson and yellow and orange. I noticed
the lights of Palm Springs twinkle like stars thousands of feet below.
I noticed the mammoth peaks of Mount San Jacinto gradually fading away.
So stark and surreal was the scene before me, that I had to remind
myself that this was how the desert appeared at twilight ordinarily.
"How do you feel, kid?"
"Fine, Rama," I reported, enjoying the attention. "Nothing yet."
About fifteen minutes later he gave me another stamp when I found
myself noticing that I was noticing that I was noticing that I
was
that i was
that
i
was
that hey
hey
hey
(hey)
((hey))
((((hey))))
((((((((hey))))))))
-* h e y * ------------ (it)
((it))
((((it))))
((((((((it))))))))
-* i t * ----------- (works)
((works))
((((works))))
((((((((works))))))))
-* w o r k s *-
I gazed at the lights of Palm Springs. I did not blink.
I did not breathe. I lost awareness that I was on a mountain.
I lost awareness that I was tripping. I lost awareness that I existed.
The points of light grew fuzzy and bright.
Time touched the mountain world. I blinked. I inhaled.
I turned from the light. "I am alive in this desert," I thought.
Through the powerful, rose-colored lens of the initial rush,
the thought magnified and blossomed into a stunning realization.
I blinked again and exhaled.
I turned and saw Rama and the disciples. I knew that I was
*seeing* on a different level than they were. This made me happy.
A large, silly grin took hold of my face. The joy gradually receded,
but the facial muscles held. I knew the grin was out of sync.
I laughed.
I turned to some rocks. I grew serious. "The rocks," I realized,
"are part of the Earth. The Earth is sacred." I did not realize,
as I continued to astonish myself with my own profundity,
that I had finally entered a world similar to the ones described
in the Castaneda books.
Suddenly Rama raised his arms and made a whistling sound.
The disciples looked at him as if he were a god. I felt detached
from the scene, as if I were observing myself observe the disciples
observe the man acting like a sorcerer. Soon I detected a faint
glow from the corner of my eye. I gazed at what I felt was an
incredible source of power, beauty, and wisdom. It was the rocks.
They were glowing.
On the drive back to Malibu, Rama was perhaps experiencing
flashbacks from the late '60s, because he "let me do my own thing."
As a result, I rode with him in front, but focused on Cindy in back.
Her flowing, blond hair and radiant face had made an impression
on me long before she appeared on the cover of Rama's newspaper.
I turned around often to smile at her.
"Hey there!" I said at one point.
Cindy looked slightly embarrassed. "Hey there!" she returned sheepishly.
This is fun, I thought. For the first time in years, things were
looking up.