In the Yucatan peninsula, home to the Mayans during the sixth to twelfth centuries, lies Chichen Itza. The name translates as “at the mouth of the well of the Itza“.
The chance to visit this site is one of the things that motivated me to take a cruise. Which is how I ended up visiting Cartagena, Chichen Itza, Panama and numerous other Central American locales.
For me a cruise is a curse and a blessing. I’ve done numerous transatlantic crossings and enjoyed them enormously. But the cruise life just isn’t for me. But more on that in another post.
The waters around Mexico are beautiful. Blue and turquoise, gentle waves beckon. The Yucatan peninsula is arid and flat, with water provided by underground rivers. Access to water is what made the land habitable, and Chichen Itza is located in proximity to four visible sink holes that could provide the water needed for the civilization to flourish through several centuries. The name “Chichen Itza” is believed to refer to the large sinkhole the Sacred Cenote (“mouth of the well of the Itza”) into which gold, jade and even human sacrifices (yes, it was a bloody time) were deposited.
Chichen Itza grew over a period of centuries to become one of the largest of the Mayan cities and a key trade area. The nearby port at Isla Cerritos provided access to trade with Central America as evidenced by products such as turquoise, gold, and obsidian from the Isthmus of Tehuantepec. All were obviously imported from elsewhere. Chichen Itza was a regional powerhouse, dominating the social, religious, and trade culture of the area until the twelfth century when Mayapán became the new capital.
The majority of my time here was spent in the upper portion of the map below which includes the Great Ball Court, Temple of the Skulls, El Castillo, and Temple of the Warriors.
Chichen Itza is an extraordinary set of archeological treasures. There are 2.6 million annual visitors to this Unesco World Heritage Site. Be prepared for crowds, heat and humidity, not to mention the occasional passing shower.
The surrounding area is poor, depending upon tourist income for subsistence. One story buildings, many of them open to the hot, humid air line the road the Chichen Itza. The pictures below were taken from a moving vehicle:
Businesses line the roadway into Chichen Itza
If you can stay overnight a sound and light show runs nightly. The show traces the history of the city and restores some of the original coloring that most likely decorated the buildings. (Their current grey/beige tones were once vibrant with color.) Tickets need to be purchased in advance or through a tour company such as Viator.
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The Pyramid of Kukulcan (El Castillo) at Chichen Itza
The Mayans built two types of pyramids: One, with a flat top and a temple, was typically used for sacrificial rituals. Untrucated pyramids were too steep to climb and were deemed to be sacred.
The Pyramid of Kukulcan (which translates into “Feathered” or “Plumed Serpent”), or El Castillo as it was called by the Spanish, is constructed with massive serpent heads at it’s Northwest base. Each year, at the spring and autumn equinox the shadows of the temple create the illusion of the serpent slithering along the side of the pyramid.
The shadow of serpent at the equinox Photo Credit: Wikileaks
The large serpent head rests at the base of the pyramid.
Interestingly, the pyramid would seem to be built on another, older structure:
In April 1931, looking to confirm the hypothesis that the structure of the pyramid of Kukulkan was built on top of a much older pyramid, the work of excavation and exploration began in spite of generalized beliefs contrary to that hypothesis. On June 7, 1932, a box with coral, obsidian, and turquoise encrusted objects was found alongside human remains…
In April 1935, a Chac Mool statue, with its nails, teeth, and eyes inlaid with mother of pearl was found inside the pyramid… After more than a year of excavation, in August 1936, a second room was found, only meters away from the first. Inside this room, nicknamed the chamber of sacrifices, archaeologists found two parallel rows of human bone set into the back wall…
Researchers concluded that there must be an inner pyramid approximately 33 m (108 ft) wide, shaped similarly to the outer pyramid, with nine steps and a height of 17 m (56 ft) up to the base of the temple where the Chac Mool and the jaguar were found. It is estimated that this construction dates to the eleventh century CE.
The remains of this once great city are impressive. The Great Ball Court is a massive playing field where games and competitions were held.
A view of the Great Ball Court at Chichen Itza
The Chichen Itza Ball Court is more than twice the size of a football field. It is so acoustically perfect that one can hear perfectly at either end of the field. The attention to acoustics isn’t limited to this stadium that was used for a variety of games; one can clap one’s hands in front of Kulkucan and hear the echo come right back.
Near the Great Ball Court the Skull Platform immortalizes the victims of battle and most likely the unlucky losers from the nearby ball court competitions. The carvings are somewhat gruesome, with vertically impaled heads carved into the long, low lying walls.
Detail of the Skull Platform at Chichen Itza
The Wall of Skulls
This three minute video from National Geographic provides a great overview of the site:
Chacchoben
Chacchoben was another stop on my travels.
The extent of the civilization at Chichen Itza contrasts with the much older remains at the Chacchoben settled from 200BC, with structures dating from 700AD. The city was discovered in 1972 by an American archaeologist, Dr. Peter Harrison, while flying over the land by helicopter, he noticed hills that didn’t seem to fit into the landscape. Over 2000 years of jungle growth obscured the structures which would be excavated and brought to modern light.
The site of the ruins translates a “Place of Red Maize”, the name of a nearby village. It’s original name has been lost with time. The earliest human settlements in the area of Chacchoben have been dated at around 1000BC. Studies made during the excavations suggest that the site was abandoned and reoccupied a few times, being finally abandoned at around 1000AD. Most structures that have been restored were modified several times during the occupation period with the most remarkable modifications dated at around 300-360AD.
This post is a short compilation of some of Steven Boone’s adventures in Luxor over the course of several years.
Steven is an artist, photographer and writer living in Santa Fe. His travels have taken him around the world numerous times. His adventures are chronicled through his art, photography and writing. I am grateful to be able to share some of them with you.
Steven’s connection to cancer is through his daughter, Naomi, who died of Ewings Sarcoma, a particularly deadly form of childhood cancer. Steven wrote a moving memoir of her battle: A Heart Traced in Sand.
“A Heart Traced in Sand”, Steven’s novel about his daughter who died of a rare childhood cancer
Luxor is a city of about half a million people located along the east bank of the Nile in southern Egypt. During the 16th-11th centuries B.C. , Thebes, the pharaohs’ capital, resided here. Surviving today are two ancient collections of buildings and temples that draw tourists to the area: the Luxor and Karnak Temples, located on the east bank and the royal tombs of the Valley of the Kings and the Valley of the Queens on the West Bank.
Luxor is located along the Nile in Egypt
Much of the economy of Luxor centers on tourism. In Steven’s travels, he befriended a family in Luxor, Egypt. One of the daughters, Amira, aspires to go to college and study business and accounting. Her annual tuition is $2,000, about the annual earnings of the entire family.
Steven has started a GoFundMe account for her. If you’d like to help, please click here.
Steven has adopted, or been adopted by, some Egyptian families in his travels. Here in Luxor, he revisits with his friend, Abu’l Ezz,and his family. Abu’l operates a felucca–a sailboat– that takes visitors up and down and across the Nile.
Karnak Temple Photo Credit: Steven Boone
I am now a “brother” of the Nile. It feels as though this grand, lengthy and luxurious river is a vein in my own body. It will always share its life with mine.
Karnak Temple, Luxor, Egypt Photo Credit: Steven Boone
By now, I am quite familiar with Luxor, a major Egyptian city that straddles both sides of the river, and the home of many important historical sites from ancient civilization. I have visited most of the key locations, and especially like Karnak (founded 3200 BC), with its massive ramparts, scores of tremendous columns, inscrutable, exotic hieroglyphics carved in its walls, granite floors, and immense totemic sculptures of human forms and guardian beasts. Over thirty Pharaohs contributed to its formation over scores of generations. It is the second largest ancient religious site in the world, after Angkor Wat Temple in Cambodia.
Abul Ez in his courtyard at home. Photo Credit: Steven Boone
On my first visit in 2008, I made friends with the captain of a felucca, a traditional sailboat now used primarily to take tourists on Nile River sailing jaunts. Abul Ez and I became friends and I often visited with him and his family in their humble home of earth on the West Bank of the Nile at Luxor. After a week, when I left to continue my world travel, he said, “Do not forget me and my family!”
During the years since then, I often thought of Ez, his family, Egypt and the Nile—so I returned. I did not seek Ez immediately, since I needed some time to unwind from a busy two days in Cairo, and Egypt is very hot and I am easily drained of energy while outdoors during most sunlight hours. So, I avoided the extremes and stayed indoors working on writing, painting and correspondence. Then, as I suspected, it was easy finding Ez, especially with the photo I brought with me to the West Bank.
When we arrived at his home in the early evening, it felt familiar. I brought gifts to his wife and children and once everyone got over the surprise of my visit after six years, we settled into a happy feeling. I took note of how the four children had grown and also, the new addition of one boy, Yusef. As we sat in his tiny front room of earth and he smoked flavored tobacco in his water pipe, he smiled at me and said, “This is your home!”
Abul Ez relaxing with his pipe. Photo Credit: Steven Boone
Since my last visit, Ez has traded his felucca for a motorboat with canopy that seats a dozen people. He has more business, since he can quickly and easily ferry local people across the river and back. He has a motorbike, and now there is a television in his house. Otherwise, he looks much the same and has hardly aged . . . being robust and with vigor. The family still live humbly. Today at lunch, the meal was so delicious, and a flavorful soup was spicy and my nose began to run. I asked for tissue, but there was none in his home, so his wife tore a cotton rag and this is what I used for my nose. I am so comfortable here, and he reminds me that we are brothers, and I feel the same.
Steven returns three years later and quickly picks up on his friendship with Abu’l Ezz the felucca captain and another family headed by Hagag, a farmer.
Abu’l Ezz and his family in Luxor, Egypt Photo Credit: Steven Boone
Amira seemed timid and mysterious during my first visits to her home in Luxor several years ago. After all, I was a stranger from America who did not share her Egyptian life or speak her language. What might I be thinking of her poor, humble earth home and impoverished family? Her father, Hagag, and I were becoming friends. Each day I walked on the dusty dirt road along the Nile River to be with him, his wife Edleah and five children.
Mother, grandmother and daughter—Amira 2014. Photo Credit: Steven Boone
Bilal, the youngest, age 3, often ran around with nothing on but a t-shirt. He sparkled like a gem—full of happy exuberance, whether playing with cats, racing about the compound, or being at my side. His mother was amused when he scolded her to go away so that he could have me for himself as playmate.
Mohammed, the oldest son, took me on a sojourn to a nearby village. I sat atop the family donkey while he walked beside. He spoke enough English to allow us to converse. Amira had just reached the age to cover her head with a scarf. She could only glance at me shyly in passing. Nubi, the next oldest boy seemed shy and aloof. Iyah, the youngest girl was bubbly and playful, her reddish-brown curly hair pulled back and tied behind her head. She looked curiously at me while smiling in delight.
I came to know and love the entire family, and the grandmother too.
Three years later, last December, I arrived again in Luxor and stayed for three weeks. Mohammed had gone into the army. He could not avoid it since the family had no money for college. He returned home for a week while I visited. In the army he earns one dollar per day and must pay for his uniform and shoes. The family cannot afford it, but pays for his bus trips home and back to his army post. He only has a few months of his two year service left. After that he said, “I want to work and help my family.”
My time in Luxor was split between my friend Hagag’s family and my other Egyptian friend Abul’ Ezz and his big family. Hagag is poorer than Ezz, but by American standards they both are quite poor. Yet such heart in these people! I feel humble in their presence.
Edleah and Hagag. 2017 Photo Credit: Steven Boone
Hagag is a farmer with a tiny plot of greens. He has a bad back that needs surgery but labors on. The children have grown and with this visit opened up to me. Bilal wanted to be sure he was not asleep if I were coming. Iyah made drawings—including my portrait. Nubi gave me rides on the donkey cart if I was going on to Ezz’s home. Amira stopped her studies to look deeply into my eyes and speak a little in English.
Women, on bread baking day. Photo Credit: Steven Boone
I always had my camera and the families accepted my picture taking.
Amira is coming of age, finishing secondary school. She is bright, honest and pure hearted. Her hope is to attend college and study business or accounting. But it is impossible for the family to afford. The tuition, including room and board is about 2000. dollars per year. That is about the entire yearly income for Hagag.
All four children sleep in one small room. Amira’s bed is a straw mat spread upon the hard earth floor. The others sleep togerther on cushions on simple divans. Perhaps Amira sleeps on the earth because of her age—because she is a young woman. There is no complaint in her.
Amira making bread in the courtyard Photo Credit: Steven Boone
I told Amira I would be sure she can go to college. Her heart soared and it was as if a thousand candles lit within her breast. Such a smile of gratitude. I imagine her at college, ardent in her studies, sharing a room with another student, and with a bed to sleep in.
Please, if you read this and are moved, make a donation now. Any amount helps.
For Amira to go to college would be a tremendous success for the entire family. Impossible without our help.
One of those perfect days, so filled with life and adventure, that times flies by. From markets to sailing the Nile with Abu’l Ezz, a day to be remembered.
There are days that I call three-in-one days. They usually occur while I am traveling. Events are so fantastic and magical that they embed in my psyche indelibly and deeply, filling my being in such a satisfying way that I swear I have lived three days in the span of one. Yesterday was like that.
It began before dawn when I am typically asleep. I woke, made breakfast and coffee, then walked in the dark along the dirt road on the west bank of the Nile River in Luxor. In a few minutes I arrived at my Egyptian brother Hegag’s home. It was quiet and a light shone from within. The doors are never closed so I stepped to the passage. Edleah, Hegag’s wife came forward from the back and motioned me to sit inside. Hegag soon appeared and we sat drinking hibiscus tea. Edleah’s brother, Adil, came with a car. We set out driving in twilight.
I was in the back seat, noticing the earthen homes, sugar cane fields, and morning haze—vapors from the canals by the fields. We reached a rundown paved road and took off as the sun rose behind us. It came up glowing orange behind distant blue mountains.
People appeared along the way, beginning their daily tasks . . . turbaned men in Jellabiya, the loose gown that flows down to the feet, and women in hijab’s and scarves covering their head.
We were going to Isna, where a big Saturday souk for trading animals occurs. The ride would have taken less than an hour, but speed humps to slow down traffic caused Adil to brake often. It took about an hour and half. At Isna we had to ask directions. Hegag said the location changes week to week. We knew we arrived when we could go no further because of the crowd.
The souk at Isna Photo Credit: Steven Boone
Hegag and I set out walking with Adil staying behind. Within a minute we were in a crush of men and animals. I had my camera in hand and was so dazzled by the scene I began snapping photos left and right. Hegag kept close watch over me, keeping me from being trampled by buffalo, camel or cow, and making sure I was free, but tethered to him.
A man with a horned sheep at the market Photo Credit: Steven Boone
Big masculine energy abounded with carousing, exclamations, excitement, joking, shouting, and fraternity. I knew I was the only “different” one, and thought a couple times this was no place for wimps. But SPIRIT was holding sway and I pointed my camera and shot. Sometimes, a man or boy wanted his picture taken next to a friend or holding a beast. Occasionally I would hear “hello”, or “welcome”. I gave a lot of thumbs up and pressed flesh with the guys.
A boy standing in the midst of camels at the souk Photo Credit: Steven Boone
We took a break for tea and falafel lunch with pita bread, then we dove in one more time. I wondered about the complete absence of women. Hegag said it was not their job to buy and sell animals. “If a woman’s husband dies, and she needs to sell an animal, she gets a neighbor, or relative to help.” He showed me where animals were being butchered and I walked in bloody mud while the butcher posed with his long blades in front of hanging carcasses.
As we began the drive back, I told Hegag, OK, the long drive was worth it.
I joked with Adil about all the humps home.
Abu’l Ezz, at the helm of his sailboat on the Nile Photo Credit: Steven Boone
The view from the boat Photo Credit: Steven Boone
Late afternoon my other Egyptian brother, Abu’l Ezz met me by the Nile and off we went in his motorboat to cruise at sunset. “This is your boat! Any time!” he said, grinning. “Are you happy?’ I said yes, and he replied, “Then I am very very, very, happy!” Indeed I felt happy—languidly floating on my favorite river in the world, chasing after felluca, the traditional Nile River sailboats. Ezz would align us for just the right pictures. I especially enjoyed seeing the felluca with the sun going down behind them.
When the sun set and Ezz took me back to the river bank outside my flat, he asked me to come to dinner the next day, after another boating at sunset. I look forward to being in his earth home with his children and served a tasty Egyptian supper prepared by Saida, the best cook in Luxor.
Sailing the Nile in a Felucca at Sunset Photo Credit: Steven Boone
When I reached my flat, I made dinner. Walking back to Hegag’s home for tea I thought . . . OK this has been one of those three days in one.
Song and sound travel with me, in my memory and in the wind chimes outside the kitchen window.
Wind chimes sway at the entry to the casita
I have settled in Santa Fe for a bit. I’ve found a wonderful casita, this one large enough to live in for a while. It is in the country, just eight minutes from the plaza, but in a different direction than the AirBnB where I first landed, and more affordable.
There is a master bedroom, bath and walk in closet; a kitchen/family room with a fireplace; and an office/bedroom with a second bath. I’ve moved some of my things from storage into this casita. It’s interesting to be reunited with some of my possessions since I am not in a possessive state of mind.
Which brings me to my wind chimes. To some degree, whatever came out of the storage pod is what I have. I have some things that I truly enjoy; others are still somewhere in a box. It doesn’t matter. I have enough.
One box I happened to open contained several sets of wind chimes. Not my favorite Maine chime whose sonorous voice is that of Mt. Desert Island harbor buoy. That chime gongs mightily in a deep wind, and although its sound pleases me, it may not please others. But my three other wind chimes appeared and I have them strategically placed.
One which lived in my former garden is now outside the kitchen window. I love its soft lilting chime and because it’s small, it readily sings.
The larger chimes that used to live on my front porch are again on my front porch, welcoming everyone who enters.
And the chimes that once hung on the trellis outside my bedroom, are again outside my bedroom window. They hold memories of lying in bed during chemo, listening to the birds, wanting to be well. Every morning and night they accompanied me and they do so again.
Timeless music to my ears; past and present; the wind moves with me. Or perhaps I move with the wind. Either way, we find ourselves together in a new place.
Santa Fe is a fascinating town. It’s healing cultures run deep; its depth of thought is far ranging; and the artistic presence is second to none. It’s beautiful, soulful and welcoming. It’s a perfect place to launch CancerRoadTrip.
And it’s restaurant per capita ratio is outstanding, a fact not lost on me. There are seemingly endless places to explore, in town and in the general area. More culinary travels to follow.
Santa Fe is a #foodie delight
(Please note that my foodie tendencies are not my doing. I really had no choice in the matter. I inherited my father’s mother’s sense of cooking and puttering the kitchen; and the travels of my younger years firmly cemented my interest in food. I once tried to count how many times I’d been to Paris and it seems to me that once the count got over 30, I gave up counting. Needless to say, I love French food.)
But back to Santa Fe, where I’d like to share some of my healing adventures. One is a recent visit to Ojo Caliente.
It was a cool day; the temperature would reach the fifties, and a wind was forecast for the next day. Indeed, I watched as lenticular clouds lined up on the mountain ranges, presaging a change in weather. A front that would bring some much needed moisture was on its way.
The view from the top of the mountain near the P’osi Pueblo site
But today, it is fairly still. I arrive at Ojo Caliente with a new Santa Fe friend, and we set off to hike before submerging ourselves in the mineral waters.
The walk to the trailhead passes a wooden fence, a coyote fence, typical of this part of New Mexico. But on this fence balance sets of stones. And stacks of stones appear here and there throughout the hike to the top of the mesa. I have no idea what they symbolize, but they seem to provide a sense of companionship and community as they share our trek.
Stones balance on a coyote fence en route to the trailhead
Ojo Caliente has a rich Native American history of being a gathering place. For centuries people have come to the mineral waters to heal mind, body and spirit. It’s located at the base of a spectacular rock formation. Pools with varying blends of waters, minerals and purposes tuck into the base of the cliff.
There is something ancient and earthy about Ojo Caliente. And it is the stuff of legends, as well as the location of past civilizations.
Before entering the spa, it is time for a hike, to the P’osi Pueblo and back, and then up the river and back. Both are beautiful, but if you have to choose one, and can navigate the steep, rocky terrain, you want to visit the Pueblo site.
The map from the Ojo Caliente website with hiking directions for the cliffs behind the spa
The initial climb is a bit steep and requires sure footing, but it’s not that far, and after that, the path levels off. I have my Urban Poles, a gift from the company, that help me navigate the landscape.
Deep gorges carved by water wind along the path and the flat expanse of the arroyos beckons for exploration.
Deep gorges parallel the hike above Ojo Caliente
The mountain top plateaus and here is where the P’osi Pueblo once stood. The Pueblo was built using many of the same methods as the Taos Pueblo. You can click here to get a visual image of that community.
This was one of eight Pueblos along the Rio Grande during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and it was estimated to have had 10,000 inhabitants. The Pueblo was believed to be three stories, with 2-3,000 rooms. The Tewa, descendants of prehistoric people, lived here for two hundred years before an epidemic forced them to move. They disappeared just before the Spanish arrived searching for gold.
The stories of the Tewa people say that this is the Pueblo where the Summer and Winter people came together, and farmed the lush, fertile valley of the river, growing cotton, corn, beans and squash. “Tewa” includes the people of the Taos, Santa Clara, Okhkay Owingeh (San Juan), Santa Clara, San Ildefonso, Nambe, Pojoaque and Tesuque Pueblos who all share a common language. Summer and Winter people refer to the two groups of Tewa that traveled the Rio Grande and the Rio Chama. When they reunited, they built Posiouinge.
Literally translated Poseouinge (P’osi for short) becomes “village at the place of the green bubbling hot springs” or it is also referred to as the “Greenest Pueblo”. It is a sacred place. The Pueblo was originally sited on the mesa overlooking the river, but today, nothing of the building remains, but scattered over the mesa are chards of pottery dating back hundreds of years. This sacred land is a modern day archeological treasure.
Chards of pottery litter the old Pueblo grounds.
For me, the site had a very personal feel. The various chards of pottery conjured up images of women creating and decorating the vessels for everyday use. Who were they? What actually happened to them? Where are their descendants?
After a self-guided tour of the mesa, compliments of a Bureau of Land Management pamphlet, it was time to visit the river. A path along the water yielded some beautiful views, even in winter:
The bridge into the spa, over the river
Reflections in the river.
The road along the river, even in winter, is stunning.
But it is time to spa.
Warm mineral water from deep in the earth pours into the Arsenic Pool.
There are four pools, each with a specialized mineral content to address specific ailments:
The Arsenic Spring helps with arthritis, stomach ulcers and to heal a variety of skin conditions. It is tucked into the base of towering cliffs, whose coloring changes with the angle of the sun.
The Lithia Spring is believed to relieve depression and aid digestion.
The towering cliffs adjacent to the mineral pools
The Soda Spring addresses digestion. It is housed in a small house that offers silent soaking and contemplation.
The Iron Spring is, of course, rich in iron, to bolster the blood and immune systems. The warm water bubbles up through a natural pebble floor that gives beneath your feet. A Native American legend has the large rock in the pool is guarding the spring, to be sure it remains accessible to everyone.
The Mud Pool Slather yourself with mud, bake until dry, soak and rinse! The mud is said to pull toxins from the body.
Over 100,000 gallons of water bubble up through the Ojo Caliente Mineral Springs daily, ranging in temperature from 80 up to 109 degrees. Pool hop, slather yourself in mud, or book any of the spa services. Choose from a Native Blue Corn and Prickly Pear Salt Scrub, a Milagro Relaxation Wrap, or a more typical range of spa pleasures.
Whatever one decides, it is a good choice.
Ojo Caliente is a unique blend of spa indulgence and earthiness. It retains the sense of connection to the earth, wind and time. It isn’t overly glitzy and it certainly isn’t manufactured. Yet it offers a full range of spa services, in addition to the mineral pools, and a restaurant and wine bar. There is also lodging available.
The Restaurant at Ojo Caliente
And believe it or not, I did not try the restaurant (this visit). My friend’s husband’s home smoked some extraordinary salmon, and we indulged in smoked salmon wraps pool-side.
Ojo Caliente has passes for locals that bring the cost of a visit down to under $20. If you bring your own towel and robe (and you are welcome to do so), it’s not a budget breaker. But it certainly is an indulgence.
One you should seriously consider should your healing travels bring you this way.
I wish I were on a road trip of unlimited possibility. The road never ends and all of that.
But I’m not.
I’m in my sixth decade and face some health challenges. So far I’ve been able to manage things fairly well, but that may or may not last.
As a result, my road trip has some limitations which makes it all the more poignant. I’m not on a search for novelty; I’m more on a quest of experience.
“Experience of meaning” is a phrase I came across recently. Joseph Campbell in an interview with Bill Moyer said:
People say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life. I don’t think that’s what we’re really seeking. I think what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive, so that the life experiences that we have on the purely physical plane will have resonances within that are those of our own innermost being and reality. And so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive, that’s what it’s all finally about, and that’s what these clues help us to find within ourselves.
Bill Moyers so elegantly responds…
You changed the definition of a myth from the search for meaning to the experience of meaning.
And all good road trips lead to the “experience of meaning”.
Let me share a flying story, from an earlier (aerial) road trip:
Soaring through the skies
Sun streams through the canopy. It is brilliant, warm and enveloping. The sky is blue and below the saphire-turquoise waters of Tahoe lie like a jewel on the earth.
I sit in the cockpit, a thin fiberglass shell held aloft by 15 meters of flexing wing. At the edge of each wing is a small winglet that projects vertically into the sky.
I bank the plane, the tiny winglet parallel with the earth, searching for lift.
I feel lift under the winglet. It’s a bubble of air and I balance on it. The plane and I are one. Together we rise–we dance– into the sky.
Lake Tahoe
Warm sun streams through the cockpit. Endless blue sky; Tahoe below.
It was a moment of perfect synchronicity. The energy of the air, the warmth of the sun, the beauty of the earth.
And for that timeless moment, all was one.
Sun, energy, beauty. And I was riding in the midst of it all, connected to it all, now and forever.
This moment has stayed with me and its intensity hasn’t diminished with time. It’s an experience that gave me a sense of knowing that is rooted in the unknowable. It’s a feeling of timeless, complete connection and joy.
“Eternity is that dimension of here and now which thinking in time cuts out.” –Joseph Campbell
Is this perhaps the “experience of meaning” that Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers are exploring? An amorphous knowing not easily shared? A deep and soulful encounter with eternity?
Our souls need nourishment. They thrive on a bit of mystery and ambiguity that lead to a deep sense of knowing. The fun of travel is that it’s not just metaphorical; the answer lies just around the bend!
The winding road, this one from the ski hill outside of Santa Fe
The metaphor of the road trip is an old one, embedded in our discourse. Fork in the road; bump in the road; the road to ruin. Twists and turns. What is the magic of the road?
I believe it’s a sense of present moment awareness–so present on a road trip– that opens our non-thinking selves to deep and moving impressions.
Georgia O’Keefe’s painting of Plaza Blanca
I visited Plaza Blanca recently. It’s a dramatic landscape a bit off the beaten trail. Georgia O’Keefe memorialized it in From the White Place, painted in 1940, oil on canvas. An uneven rutted road leads to the rock formation. My car was not made for off road driving, and I carefully picked a path through the desert dirt to the parking area.
I got out.
The rocks of Plaza Blanca
I was immediately engulfed in a profound sea of silence. Silence so deep and endless it was nearly palpable. An eternity of silence amidst the eroding towers of rock.
As I write this, I can still feel the silence, the slight wind as it passes by without a sound. It was an “experience of meaning”, a connection with eternity.
Cancer often leads to an “experience of meaning” in that it takes us out of our heads and into our souls. In this way it can be a gift. Gilda Radner once said: “If it wasn’t for the downside, having cancer would be the best thing and everyone would want it.”
If it wasn’t for the downside.
With cancer, the world becomes very real, very quickly for most of us. That which is not essential is eliminated. That which is meaningful remains.
And it’s here that the “experience of meaning” may have a chance to take root. People talk of the impact of the beauty of a flower; the charm of a small bird outside the window; the touch of a loved one. Here in this place beyond our minds is an experiential road trip. That’s the road trip for me. And hopefully for all our souls.
***
Three types of time
This past week, I wrote a piece about my cancer experience. It’s a chronology of tests and treatments. A friend of mine, knowing a bit of the background, commented: “It’s amazing what we survive.”
Cancer or not, I think we all want to do more than survive. But to fully live, we need to be open to the magic of the moment to have the “experience of meaning”.
With cancer, the recognition that time is limited becomes part of our reality. We quickly learn to focus on the here and now, and what is important. Clock time fades away; we may get stuck in psychological time; but elements of eternal time seem to crop up more often.
And with the recognition that an eventual deadline approaches, one realizes that each moment counts. This is the gift, the meaning of time and the experience of meaning that often eludes us in our frantic daily lives.
***
Question: So what is the real meaning of a road trip?
Answer: What is the meaning of life?
Let me leave you with a Zen koan:
Photo by Patrick Hendry on Unsplash
Enlightenment is like the moon on the water.
the moon does not get wet, nor is the water broken.
Although its light is wide and great,
The moon is reflected even in a puddle an inch wide.
Have you been curious about a zen retreat, such as meditating at Upaya or perhaps visiting Tibet?
Photo credit: Ahmed Saffu, Unsplash
Images of smiling Buddhist monks, flowing robes and the sounds of beautiful bells probably come to mind. Chirping birds, beautiful pathways, flowers and fresh air.
And silence, as the monks pursue their tasks and meditate.
The Buddists use meditation as part of their quest for enlightenment. Meditation has no religious overtones. Like its counterpart mindfulness, it is simply about being still and quiet in this busy world. The benefits of stopping to be still can be considerable.
It was the healing aspects of meditation coupled with a need to manage stress and life with cancer that caused me to start exploring this path. Learning to meditate and incorporating its benefits into my daily routine has changed my life.
Someone recently asked me about meditation and why I found it so powerful. Let me try to conjure up an analogy:
The yin and yang of black and white
First, imagine you only see white.
Think of white as the constant noise of TV, conversations, life in general. In white there are market lists, to do lists, thoughts about the past and the future. Your mind jumps from topic to topic, conversation to conversation, past to future. The mental buzz is unending. It’s society’s matrix and its probably where you spend most of your time.
Now introduce black.
There is stillness.
There are no lists or noise, no distractions or requirements, no past or future.
Just stillness. You feel the peace and serenity.
Pause and consider that for a moment.
The Zen Koan, A Cup of Tea
In peace, in the absence of (psychological) time, there are no thoughts. The quiet you find is extraordinary. Revolutionary. Game changing.
Observe your thoughts. Let them fall away.
At first this stillness may be elusive, but with practice, you can learn to take it with you, wherever you go.
The trick is navigating the external matrix without losing the internal stillness.
So it is that meditation is part of my daily routine. And this Sunday I joined a half day “sit” at Upaya, called “The Ease and Joy of Mornings”.
Upaya is a well known zen monastery and retreat in the hills above Santa Fe. It is accessed via an un-prepossessing, unpaved road. Clouds of dust rise as a car passes and a dirt driveway appears dropping off steeply to the right.
A simple sign outside the Zen monastery greets the visitor
A friend had invited me to three hours of Zazen (sitting meditation) broken with intervals of Kinhin (Walking Meditation). Meetings are held in the zen-dō, a spiritual dōjō where meditation is practiced.
This was my first Zen “sit” and I approached it with curiosity and the hope that a three hour session won’t be too much for my chemo joints or my sometimes busy mind.
The word “Zen” derives from the Sanskrit word “dhyana” which translates into “meditation” or “absorption.” In Chinese, the word is “Chan”; in Japanese, “Zen”.
Zen is a form of Buddhist meditation—there is nothing to believe in, and nothing special to do or be. One need not wear robes or shave one’s head. One is simply present.
Upaya Institute and Zen Center is one of several Buddhist monasteries in the area. It’s not a fancy place. The accommodations at the monastery are, well, monastic.
On the surface, the monastery and Zen Center radiant peace, but a brief look at the schedule shows what a culturally and intellectually dynamic place Upaya is.
On the peaceful side of the equation, daily meditations are open to the public at 7:00 am, 12:20 pm and 5:30 pm and one is warmly welcomed.
On the intellectual and cultural side of the equation, Upaya simply rocks. Weekly talks and programs on topics ranging from Buddhist teachings to art, neuroscience and other topics are offered to anyone who would like to attend. Wednesday evening Dharma talks are also open to the public.
But my interest this day is on experiencing an extended morning of meditation at this beautiful retreat.
A mediating statue outside the entrance to the zendo
The entry to the Upaya zendo or meeting hall.
The atmosphere is kind, open and friendly. A good number of participants this morning were newbies like myself. In addition to cushions, chairs are placed along the wall, should sitting for extended periods be difficult. Many of us choose a chair, myself included.
Petra Hubbeling from Holland leads the group. She visits Upaya twice a year, for three months each visit. Her background of thirty years in business recruitment and management is in contrast to her current life in training a student in Upaya’s Chaplaincy Program. She reflects on her first visit:
“Being at Upaya that first time, I felt how every guest practitioner who comes here feels. I fell in love with this place, with the beauty of the center, with the beauty of the practice, with Upaya’s deep commitment to social engagement.”
Light spills through the window into the sunroom
Petra outlines the morning agenda, explaining some of the monastery’s traditions, and we settle in to meditate in silence until the soft resonance of the gong sounds. About forty minutes, I would guess. Time does not matter. One of the apprentices is tasked with monitoring the clock. Our only task is to be present in our meditation.
“Real Zen is the practice of coming back to the actual right-now-in-this-moment self, coming back to the naturalness, the intimacy and simplicity of our true nature. Zen practice is not about getting away from our life as it is; it is about getting into our life as it is, with all of its vividness, beauty, hardship, joy and sorrow. Zen is a path of awakening: awakening to who we really are, and awakening the aspiration to serve others and take responsibility for all of life”. -Upaya website
The sound of the gong wafts gracefully through the zendo and indicates it is time to move from our still minds to our bodies, all in silence except for some instruction from Petra. We bow first to our place of meditation, then to the room. And single file, we start to walk.
“Fast, faster”, Petra beckons. “Follow the person before you. Move as they move.”
The pace quickens and the human line weaves through the zendo, into the sunroom and back.
“Now walk slowly.” The cadence changes. “Align your movement with the person in front of you. Follow your breath.”
Now the entire human line slows, in step with each breath. Each movement is exaggerated with great awareness. From heal to toe and back again. Slowly. The goal is to have the entire line move as one, with a collective awareness of each move.
We weave in a line from the zendo to the sunroom and back. The room moves as one and we return for another period of Zazen followed by another period of Kinhin . Then we break for some tea and snacks in the kitchen.
Photo Credit: by Nathan Burrows on Unsplash
The kitchen is busy and welcoming, as students mindfully chop vegetables, cook meals, wash dishes and sweep the floor. Off the kitchen, there is a smaller indoor dining area a step down, for daily dining. There is also a long patio overlooking the grounds for larger groups. We gather here until returning to the zen-dō for a discussion about the traditions of this morning sit.
Upaya was founded in 1994 by Roshi Joan Halifax, PhD. This remarkable woman is a Buddhist teacher, Zen priest, anthropologist, and a pioneer in the field of end-of-life care. She has been an Honorary Research Fellow at Harvard and a Distinguished Visiting Scholar at the Library of Congress.
Professionally and spiritually, she has focused on the psycho-social, ethical and spiritual aspects of care of the dying, particularly with cancer patients. Her influence on the field of spirituality, medicine and compassion cannot be overstated.
I have to say I am humbled, amazed and grateful to have access to such an amazing educational and cultural institution in my back yard.
The upcoming Upaya schedule for this Spring includes programs such as Rediscovering Zen’s Roots in Ancient China by philosopher and Columbia University teacher David Hinton; and a two week Japan Arts Pilgrimage, Ancient and Contemporary Art and Sacred Sites, with Roshi Joan Halifax. A full schedule of events is here.
Upaya is just one of several Zen monasteries in Santa Fe. While I’m taken with this incredible zen center, I also look forward to exploring the others. I think my interest lies in the wonderful ambiguity associated with the Buddhist train of thought, along with my already established meditation practice. I don’t see myself running off to a monastery (too many restaurants to discover!), but I am drawn to the recognition of impermanence that we all seem to seek to avoid.
In the words of the 8th-century Buddhist master Shantideva (The Way of the Bodhisattva):
All that I possess and use Is like the fleeting vision of a dream. It fades into the realms of memory; And fading, will be seen no more.
If you’re interested in some reading on meditation and mindfulness:
This is the first book I recommend to everyone curious about meditation. The author asks you to set aside just 8 minutes a day. Week by week, he introduces new approaches to meditating. It gives you the chance to sample some different bodies of thought and decide which–if any– might suit you. An excellent place to start, and one of my first books as well!
The Power of Now is one of the most amazing books ever. Eckhart Tolle’s personal story takes him from homelessness to spiritual teacher.
From Amazon:
“To make the journey into the Now we will need to leave our analytical mind and its false created self, the ego, behind. From the very first page of Eckhart Tolle’s extraordinary book, we move rapidly into a significantly higher altitude where we breathe a lighter air. We become connected to the indestructible essence of our Being, “The eternal, ever present One Life beyond the myriad forms of life that are subject to birth and death.” Although the journey is challenging, Eckhart Tolle uses simple language and an easy question and answer format to guide us.
A word of mouth phenomenon since its first publication, The Power of Now is one of those rare books with the power to create an experience in readers, one that can radically change their lives for the better.”
If you haven’t read this, download it NOW! It’s one of those books you’ll come back to again and again.
This book is a classic for a reason. It’s about integrating mindfulness meditation into everyday life. It’s been updated with a new afterward by the author.
The CancerRoadTrip Photo Galleries are constantly being updated as I wade through the vast volumes of pictures from my travels! I’ve just posted pictures from Killarney the Beara Peninsula in Ireland.
The Irish trip into the country touched my partly Irish soul, I must admit. The undertone of moodiness, the beautiful landscapes, the elusive skies are all part of what make Ireland so beautiful. I hope that some of that comes through in the pictures.
A yellow boat house connects land and sea
“Photography is the story I fail to put into words.”–Destin Sparks
Photography is turning into part of my world. I may have lost tennis and skiing to cancer, but I am grateful to have a newfound fascination. I look back at some of my earlier pictures in the photo galleries and cringe a bit, but the only path is forward.
I recently took an on-line class, both with MasterClass (these are amazing–do check them out!) and another from DPS (Digital Photography School). The way we learn is changing and web-based learning rocks! More convenient than a classroom, at one’s convenience, and personal interaction via technology answers one’s questions. As a life long student, this is an amazing lifeline to learning.
I have an affiliate relationship with MasterClass (your purchase through this site is greatly appreciated!).
The DPS course consists of thirty one short (15 minutes so) discussions of a photo topic, coupled with a task every day. It might be shooting a still life; a sunset; or perhaps using shutter speed for long term, artful exposures.
It is perfect for my web-warped (and chemo brained) mind that only handles so much information at a sitting! And it forces me out to take pictures almost daily.
Along with my photo club, and an upcoming course through the Santa Fe Community College, I’m looking forward to more photo forays for CancerRoadTrip in the near future. I’ve just gotten a wide angle lens, so please be patient with my learning curve as I figure out the best way to use this.
Santa Fe and environs is simply breathtaking. I am grateful that CancerRoadTrip has led me here. Let me leave you with a few shots that will be making their way into some more Photo Galleries shortly:
The caves at Bandelier
Chair looking out at Ghost Ranch, NM
Labyrinth at Ghost Ranch, NM
Benches at Bandelier
The path at Bandelier NM hugs the hills and ascends to the caves
Inspiration, joy & discovery through travel. Oh, did I mention with supposedly incurable cancer?
What's on your bucket list?
Thank you for stopping by!
CancerRoadTrip is about making lemonade out of lemons.
As you read my story, you may want to start at the beginning to "grok" how CancerRoadTrip came to be. You can click here to start at the end (which is actually the beginning) and read forward! The posts are chronological, with the most recent posts appearing on the front page.
