CAMEL RIDE-“I’d Walk A Mile For A Camel”

Adam (aka Poncho later): Photo courtesy of Deb Mc Murray, Photographer

If you want to keep camels, have a big enough door. 

                                                       Afghan Proverb

The camel and his driver -- each has his own plan. 

                                                        African Proverb

I think compassion is all important. I carry a piece of rose quartz in my pocket 

that reminds me to take in everything, and give out everything, with compassion.

                                                     Tamara Nesbit

Destiny was calling. Namaste Global Vision’s mission is to enable animal stewards through our leadership coaching. I was off course in considering our non-profit directly assisting in an animal rescue. I called our other two founding members so we could consider the request.

“Here I am standing in the community kitchen,” I tell Art and Myron, “and one of the women asks if I will find Adam a home. I think about it. And then right after meditation, an ‘Aha’ comes. I do know someone to ask for help if we decide to take this on!”

Adam was in a midlife crisis during an economic slump. One of his humps was sagging. His current health and home were unstable. He used to be a photo celebrity; humans drove by singing, others sent wishes. Some offered connection and carrots at the fence. Eventually, even his goat friends could not cheer him.

After receiving the green light, I swallow hard. I call Adam’s owner and we talk for a very long time. Tentatively, I call Charley.

What happens next is camel magic, and phone calls that go flying.

“Mystic Moon passed away,” Charley tells me. “Many people wanted his stall. But I hung up a cross and prayed on it many times. I kept leaving it open for someone. I now know who! Thanks for calling.”

Charley knows about gentling. Gentling isn’t just for camels and horses; it’s for people too. Falling on hard times is hard. It’s not easy to let go of family, regardless of what wisdom says.

I’m reminded of “Heartland”, a thoughtful television show. “Second Chances” tells the story about Mr. Hanley’s neglecting his horses as he falls on hard times. Because of Amy’s dedication to helping the horses she ends up helping Mr. Hanley too. (http://www.amazon.com/Second-Chances/dp/B00F91RV0C)

Like with Mr. Hanley's horses, Adam's ranch life was precarious. His people were trying to make ends meet for hearth and ranch life. Sometimes, there were not enough resources for the animal's care. Adam was underweight. The authorities were coming around and that did not bode well for Adam. Negative thinking and despair don’t help. Destabilization invites a delicate situation. When breakdowns happen, it’s time for a change. (http://consultingforpassion.blogspot.com/2014/02/crying-uncle-wayto-breakthrough-things.html) 

A delicate situation it was: “Yes, Adam can go. No, he can’t. Take the goats, too. No, it can’t work. Well, let’s try. Need more time.”

Charley, Myron and I chose peaceful negotiations and positive communication. Luckily, we had help. Adam received affection, support, treats and mantrams from a local spiritual community. Well-wishers had watched his growth from childhood, on. Deb, a photographer, sang to Adam every day on her way to work. We had all that good energy going for us.

Hours and hours of phone calls later, loading day came. Today was Adam’s turn for a camel ride. (http://consultingforpassion.blogspot.com/2014/07/camel-ride-part-one.html) And Myron and Scotty will tell you they walked more than a mile for their camel as they loaded him into the trailer. Adam and his owners said a teary goodbye. Adam then rode off, away from northern California, down south to his new home.

Adam arrived at dawn on Charley’s birthday. Charley’s brother surprised everyone with a three-man Mariachi band who followed the trailer. Adam’s regal head nodded approval as the band played on. In that moment, Adam became Poncho as his resolution to mid-life crisis was underway.

I hope you enjoyed the ride. He did. And, reader, what’s your transformational story that saved a life?

By the by: Everyone likes a happy ending. Here’s Poncho’s happy ending with his forever family. http://charleymayer.me/my-furry-family/#contentBox  

Poncho( aka Adam earlier) with his new friend, Corona; Photo by Charley Mayer;

https://www.facebook.com/PonchoTheCamel/photos_stream

                             "He's Doing Better Than Ever" Photo by Cassandra Ogier

  

CAMEL RIDE-GIZA AGAIN

We started our journey in Giza. (http://consultingforpassion.blogspot.com/2014/07/camel-ride-part-one.html)  We ended in Giza, as well. Sandwiched in-between were layers of Egyptian mystery that we peeled back. (http://consultingforpassion.blogspot.com/2014/08/the-temple-of-karnack.html.)

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.

CAMEL RIDE-GIZA

I traveled to honor the harmonic convergence in Giza, Egypt. We arrived early and would end our trip around 1-11-1987. Before we moved into the heart of collective “caravan” travels, we were introduced to Giza. This is where we began and ended our journey.

Colorfully clad Bedouin camel handlers gently led the giants of the desert, equally adorned, near the circle where we stood. All our eyes were watchful of the camels, while occasional wandering eyes ogled the Great Pyramid. I was spellbound...in rapture. I was about to sit upon one of God’s mightiest and most mysterious creatures.

The camel dutifully knelt with knees on the ground as I was hoisted up onto its back. No time for ceremony, camel kisses or sweet breaths; only the ride was in view. I felt a lump in my stomach as we rose up into the heavens. Clearly, the camel had done this before.

With that one movement of the camel rising, there was a merging of me into camel and the wide sweep of desert. Camel, Bedouin camel handler, Great Pyramid, sand, desert ways, hills, rising...and I swooped and swirled into singing sands, wind, dust, and the massive presence of antiquity. I remained astounded. Once up and settled, the view was eternal.

It was only a moment, but the moment captured something deep, known and unknown, in my bones. It was my Taos desert trip and my travels with four friends across Texas, Arizona, New Mexico and California. It was Vipassana meditation in the desert, Joshua Tree hiking in California. It was photography, salad, and numerous trips into Death Valley. It was an ancient song, “The Shifting Whispering Sands”, of my childhood that called me first to the mysterious sands of the deserts. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QgAvHo6vpe4

One would think the sand was resting, but you'll find this is not so. 
It is whisp'ringsoftly whisp'ring, as it slowly moves along…
Yes, it always whispers to you about  the days of long ago.  

                                            V.C. Gilbert and Mary M. Hadler 

There was something of my father’s longing in that song. Some yearning never satisfied. If there was a link between us it would be found in that song. While Roy Rogers captured my heart about western deserts and its ways, this song that my father played revealed his vulnerable side, whether he realized it or not.

One late rainy afternoon, I made my bedroom into a tented affair, while I explored inner riches. Home from work, my father stormed into my bedroom, red faced and demanding.  When his hand yanked open the tent flap, there was only the radio quietly playing, “The Shifting Whispering Sands.” Twice blessed, I did not laugh when he realized his error. Desert storms are like that. They rise up in fury, and lie down in whispering lamentations, moving quietly across vast terrains.

The camel ride up the hilly plain was quiet and lulling. Tips were included in our touring fees and granted to the Bedouin Company. But the Bedouins did not quite see it that way.  When no favorable response came, the dust storm of camel hooves pounded into the desert floor as they raced for the highest hills. Sitting atop this escapade was riveting. Only after more sweeping gestures by our guides, and our hands pulling out empty pockets, did they turn the camels around.

What did I learn in the heart of the deep Egyptian desert? I learned that a camel was a new friend. I learned that the ways of the desert and its customs are unique and compelling. I learned that while we had yet to rendezvous with the pyramids, everything I came for, I had already found in that ride.

What about you, dear reader? When did you go on a journey born out of the wishes and connections that came before?