I was still sick of my tumbling thoughts. Although they had quieted since the first week of the drive, they were still gently and consistently rolling, taking dizzying effect like a carousel in continuous motion would. Still, this was much better than the anger fueled internal rampage that they had been.

I was on my way to Alaska; a drive I had made before. I mostly drove in silence, leaving hours of space that I would have loved to not fill with thoughts, but I allowed myself to be as I was.

I don’t often get angry, actually I never did until recently. I had spent much of life in the fearful, sad and frozen stage of development and was finally evolving to experience higher levels of emotional capability. This certainly was uncomfortable, but I knew it would pass.

It took 5 days of waiting. 5 days of doing nothing about it. 5 days of watching the anger and thoughts burn out on their own. It’s worked best not to touch the hot flame.

After 5 days, I could finally see why I had been so angry and not perceived the anger at all. It had been building over a year, during which I had practiced fawning and placating for fear of saying what I thought and potentially slaying an important relationship with my honest feelings. It has become a customary response to another abandoning reason in favor of pure emotion communication.

I had practiced this ritual of self-preservation many times, and wondered why I didn’t feel like I had genuine relationships. No one knew me. I guess I was getting back what I was giving. I was just trying to save myself and what I cared for, but in the end all the unnecessary caretaking had just accelerated the death or stopped the depth that comes with truly knowing someone from developing. (I guess knowing them is allowing them to be as they are, while you be who you are)

As I stood in front of Mount Rushmore, I felt awe and confusion. This was like monuments I had visited in other countries. It felt like it was designed for tourists. A fabricated wonder.

It didn’t matter; I was so thankful that my thoughts were gentle and flowing, even though they were still fairly constant. I had recovered from the rising of anger and learned how to say what I thought even when I was afraid during the previous week, but the smoothness of execution of the new skill would take time to train.

I toured the area below the monument and then turned back towards the exit. The sun was sinking as I strode through the state flags hung over the pathway. I realized I had forgotten my parking ticket and to take a photo of myself at the monument. It felt like a chore; all of the practice of “cataloguing” my adventures for the enjoyment of others did. However, deep below this feeling was a feeling of unworthiness, so I made peace with the “burden” in favor of challenging the unworthiness every time. Did people really care to see what I was doing? It lessened each time.

I strode back to the monument, unnecessarily conscious of how silly it could appear to take one photo and then immediately walk away without appreciating the monument further. I knew the truth of course: no one ever paid attention to anyone else and if they did, the opinion was irrelevant. It was fine to appreciate or not appreciate as I saw fit…I had already appreciated it I reminded myself. These ingrained insecurities took time to unravel.

After I had done just that: walked up, asked someone to take a photo (aka practiced telling someone my needs), and turned right around to walk swiftly away (still conscious of how it could look, but who cares). I decided to indulge my curiosity and speak to the man at the table I had noticed between thoughts on the first of three passes through the flagged stone walkway (more practice saying what I wanted and needed was to come).

I was accustomed to seeing Christians handing out free material at sites like these (the tourist-oriented ones), but my interest was peaked because this was the first person I had seen handing out consciousness, meditation and yoga material. I had noted him on the way in with intention to visit on my way out and then walked by out of fear-of-getting-involved-with-having-to-say-what-I-thought-to-a-person-who-firmly-believes-what-they-thought situation. This tendency was the root of much of my under-achieving behaviors in life. I let the fear occupy the space it had claimed and approached him.

I congratulated him on being there. It wasn’t often I saw someone handing out information on this interpretation of reality. He had the right kind of energy about him for this kind of work: he didn’t need anything from it. He didn’t need anyone to believe, but he was happy to share the opportunity.

“Would you like some books?”

He excitedly piled 8 into my hands, including the Bhagavad Gita. I’ve read the Bhagavad Gita, but had made sure to find only the original text without interpretation; these books can be quite long.

We talked on and as the evening concluded, with appreciation for this encounter with another conscious soul, he gave me Prasad, milk, spinach, apples, nuts and dates, and a heavy box of 10 more books.

I felt good. I had clearly encountered an important person on my own path to ascension, although I had stopped thinking about ascension two years ago. When I first realized I could be done with the suffering associated with being a human, I burned with motivation to “ascend in this lifetime.” I must have realized that my motivation was not correct, as I reframed my goal and let the old one fade away. To get away from being human and from suffering isn’t such a noble cause to live your life by. Sounds more like survival.

Lately, the idea of ascension had come up several times; in conversation with this man was the third utterance of the word.

“You could really finish up in this lifetime if you focus”

In the past, ego fed, I would have embraced the idea with pride and desire, but this day, it felt like a soft and passing revelation. That’s what happens when you get signs ahead of time, and let go. Everything is softened.

This is possible?

I knew it was true. I had felt it before. The path still seemed unclear. How can I have a purpose to fulfill on earth and ascend at the same time? I thought each required full devotion: to embrace a human existence or to actively transcend one. Questions started flooding my head.

I drove to the dispersed campsite lightly wondering what the real purpose of my meeting with this man was. The sun dipped low over the Black Hills, tucking behind the trees. I unpacked the tent, bathing in the sweetness of yet another encounter intentionally placed in my path for my growth. And finally, my thoughts settled in time for sleep.