As I re-enter Giza to say goodbye to its land, people, camels and customs, I feel an inner calm. I carry with me mysterious adventures come to life. Entering the King’s Tomb on my knees remains with me as does seeing “Sechmet,” daughter of Ra, The Sun God.
I walk deep across desert sands toward looming pyramids. I walk away from noisy vendor stands, arrayed with colorful Kurtas, perfume and food. Choosing my spot, I sit down to meditate in the heat of the desert sun. I clasp my hands, thumbs touching. I sit cross-legged on the golden sand.
I close my eyes. Slowly, I am aware of my breath. I sit still for a long while. Slowly, I sense a strange, reverberating force pulsating toward me from afar.
Trained in Vipassana mindfulness meditation, I keep my eyes closed. As the Palm Desert bell ringer, I learned not to flinch, open my eyes, or react to flies buzzing around me. The practice: breathe in and out, noticing and allowing.
Today is no different. Time is silent; am I halfway through my meditation? My eyes remain closed, noticing. Breathing in and breathing out.
The sand is alive, bringing grumbling, rolling thunder into my ears. Breathing in and breathing out. Watching the phenomenon rise and fall. The hammering from high above eventually penetrates my calm.
Breathing in and breathing out.
The rumbling commotion comes closer and closer. The distance thins. Then suddenly, sandstorms are upon me. I hear shouts. The uproar and pounding hooves are unrelenting. I remain, breathing in and out.
With hoofed feet wrapped in whispering sands, the cacophony engages me. I sit, unmoving. The pounding hooves stop abruptly --- within seconds of my skin. Men high above shriek words which are strange to my ears.
I sit, spine erect, breathing in and breathing out.
Am I being threatened?
My eyes are closed.
The demanding energy roars above me.
Breathing in and breathing out.
As I sit in stillness, a strange thing happens. As powerful as the vocalizations had been, there is now a pervasive quiet.
To my surprise, camel feet encircle me completely. Several camels lean down, putting their face close to me as I sit. Camel breath comes near mine.
As camels and I share breath, the men are also quiet. The camels communicate a rapturous tranquility. I am enclosed in reverence. Astonished, my breath grows shallow. I am encircled in a community of prayers.
I am breathing in and out … just like the camels … just like the men.
I fill with gratitude and unshed tears.
Breathing in and breathing out.
We remain like this for a long time.
Breathing in and breathing out.
Prayerfully, the camels one by one, with their men, move silently from the circle. And they slowly begin their pilgrimage back from where they came.
Later, I open my eyes, the dust nearly gone from hoof storms far away.
While Vipassana meditations usually involve an insight garnered, this one transitioned from reality to dreamlike…and then gently slid me into an alternate, elevated reality. Such is the transformational power of the desert.
