I climbed the red rocks of Kahneeta today, about 20 miles out of the Warm Springs reservation. I marveled at how effortless my climb became when I felt total oneness with the soil beneath my feet.
I watched carefully where I stepped. This was exactly the time of year and the warm rocky location the rattlesnakes would relish. I was so busy watching my feet that I grabbed a cactus by mistake as I reached to steady myself.
The very smell and almost invisible prickles had lodged everywhere in my palm and thumb. I tried to pull them out with my left hand, but I could barely see them and I seemed to be making it worse by pushing them deeper. I made my way back to where my car was parked beside the road.
I walked around gathering dry wood and twigs to make a fire. I soon had a crackling fire going. If I could just remember that fire in other dimensions isn’t hot – its light. I had a close relationship with the spirit of fire; I didn’t have to burn if I put my hand in the fire. The prickles, however, would burn.
I was standing with my hand in the fire. It felt cool to my touch and the prickles seemed to be burning away nicely when a car pulled up. Perhaps, the people in the car thought I needed assistance.
“What are you roasting?” The wife called through the window. I turned towards them and to her dismay, she saw it was my hand! The car sped away…
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