Beyond the Mystic Mountains

When the winter season truly arrives, and the islands of Collier County seem ready to burst with business and bustling excitement, there might be, during special moments, something like magic emerging from the least likely sources.

An ancient Himalayan proverb has translated over time and distance into one of the most profound statements: the least likely to speak hold the greatest secrets.

Only special circumstances can create an exceptional event, but when something special develops into something extraordinary, and confirmation comes from another who is also least likely to speak, the fabric of Western reality can begin to unravel when a story from Beyond the Mystic Mountains reaches the tropics and disturbs the comfort of the easily explainable.

Our adventure begins as many do when our islands are busy with travelers and adventure seekers. During an afternoon not too many seasons ago, when the southern wind was a balmy haze and the misty view of Naples became distant, a reluctant travel log began from a traveler who had been on many voyages.

After the magic of Marco began to loosen a person least likely to speak, the chronicle of an overseas voyage and a trip to the roof of the world began. Our voyager, when she was finally convinced into telling her tale, began her narrative with an arrival in Kathmandu, Nepal. She was at once awestruck by the Himalayan Mountains surrounding the city and by the friendly people of the region who seemed to share a secret. After three days of acclimation and immersion into a new culture, a search was underway for the most unique and off-the-path tour guide possible. After finding a pair of enthusiastic and identical twins who were confident trailblazers, a mountain quest was soon on the road to discover if myth and legend could actually become a fact.

With our traveler and her tour-guide twins driving up crumbling mountain tracks where vehicles were becoming rare, the windy chill from the nearby snow and ice packs began to creep into every fiber of everyone on the quest. After two days of climbing through rock-strewn passes and narrow ravines, fewer travelers would appear on the dangerous terraces. As the mountainous treks became even more rugged, a new element of excitement rose after every sunset as the stars and the planets were ever more visible in the thin atmosphere. As the climb continued amongst the rare air and the snowcaps, the days in the mountains and the ever-rising trek soon led to an altitude where pilots in airplanes are required to use oxygen masks. After camping well above the timberline where wood is scarce and campfires will not burn without artificial fuel, fair summer weather finally led the travelers to a stone monastery and remote temple of Buddhist monks. The temple was a monastery standing for a thousand years where no other visitors were in the habit of reaching.

After greeting the welcoming monks, the westerners became almost overwhelmed with an exchange of culture shock. When an informal request led to an acceptance of sharing meditation and contemplation with the visiting group, a friendly silence began to prevail. After the first moments at the monastery, it became obvious that silence was the order of the day. The monk’s explanation and instructions for enlightenment were simple and clear. For a true depth of meditation to occur, psychological obstacles must no longer exist. The monks were unwavering in the belief that focusing on silent meditation and removing themselves from the influences of the outside world is the only way to achieve true “oneness.”

After three days of very little food, total silence, and almost constant meditation, the obvious hierarchy of the monks began to appear in the form of the oldest members of the abbey. During a silent time when the only sound was the two-tone notes of Himalayan wind whispering around the eves and cloisters of the stones that had been in place for centuries, our traveler turned and opened her eyes to observe the elder monk apparently sitting cross-legged on the ancient stones. The elder monk, however, was not sitting; he was elevated and levitating about two feet above the ground. The most senior of the monastery was at focus as apparently only the persons of the eastern mountains can. As our shocked but not surprised traveler related, the wizened old man of the mystic mountains was defying gravity with mind over matter.

As our visitor to the islands recalled her experience, she was shy in sharing that she was a witness to something beyond special. She was giving credibility and testimony to an event that almost everyone would disbelieve. As she continued to explain to the handful who were listening: with our society, and with our wizardry of modern technology, we perhaps have not even touched upon something that refined consciousness and focused thought has been achieving for centuries.

Indeed, this was a story, a tale, and a Beach Boy Chronicle that was also a reluctant topic until another traveler who was also visiting Marco told of watching the very same experience. This traveler was also fearful of skeptic scorn until compelled by another visitor who had also heard of the overseas voyage and the almost forbidden trek up the Himalayan Mountains.       

Travelers who travel often, love to collect stories, but when travel logs from distant lands become unbelievable, storytellers can become shy. Not many are willing to share the unbelievable or the cynicism of scoffers, but when those least likely to speak begin to share tales from Beyond the Mystic Mountains or voyages where the western world is alien, perhaps there is much more to believe than our comfort zone can allow.