Category: Travel

I could see that this place was coursing with magic as soon as I got in the taxi. Each collision we narrowly avoided was a new miracle, and our driver could only have been navigating with magic since there wasn’t a street sign in sight. Cars turned, stopped, passed, and avoided motorcycles and pedestrians with almost no structure to the roads. Traffic lines were suggestions and any rules that might have existed were clearly only guidelines.

And yet, in each moment, I could feel my own life energy surging. A pure joy at being alive not evoked by the mundane, rules-based traffic of the US. Improbably, we reached the Shakya House where we were staying for at least some part of our journey. Shakya was the clan of Siddhartha Gautama, so this house seemed like a fitting place from which to base my own mystical journey. I’ve learned quickly that coincidences like this are not an accident, but stem from a confluence of the magic in the world and the magic proceeding from ourselves.

Of course, we were terribly jet lagged. It took all of my effort not to immediately slump into bed, but Robin was insistent that we go to her family’s restaurant on that first day. On the walk we passed many temples and shrines that seemed to be in active use. I thought I could already see what might be meant by “gods living in the street.”

Unfortunately, when we eventually got to the restaurant, her family wasn’t there. But still, we were asked to sit and brought tea while we waited for Robin’s cousin to come meet us. Maybe it was the jet lag, but time seemed to be working differently here. Everything seemed slowed down. Sitting, waiting, talking, drinking tea. There was no rush to any of this. It was especially strange interacting with people who didn’t speak English. I wished I had a spell to translate what people were saying, but alas, I had to make due with reading body language and gestures.

After eating some momos, we went back to our hotel and slept for a long time.

I know not for how long this shade has hung over my head. I only know that I can see it now and can feel it’s weight. I see other things, too, that I never saw before. Magical energies and supernatural creatures underlying everyday events. A parallel world superimposed upon the ‘scientific’ world which interacts in subtle ways and which we can effect likewise.

It all started at the Cacao Ceremony. This maybe warrants some explanation… see I began hanging out with a number of cooperative living communities in San Francisco: a mish-mash of artists, socialists, techies, community-oriented folks. And there’s a lot of overlap between these groups and a lot of astral chart/tarot card/palm reading sorts. So I inevitably ended up at an event to celebrate the transition of the sun into Gemini.

In order to strengthen our minds and bodies and our connections with mother nature, the eternal spirit, the oneness, and so forth, the hosts led us in a Cacao Ceremony.

“Cacao is a gift to us from the ancient gods. The Mayans knew the power of cacao, and scientists have recently discovered that cacao has all of the vitamins and minerals necessary for a healthy heart.” Damn. “I’ve been doing these cacao ceremonies every morning for the past six months and I can really say my health has improved. I feel, just, so much more open. So, before we begin, let’s do a group meditation to connect into spirit of the earth to allow the power of the cacao to fully heal us.”

And so followed a fifteen minute meditation in which we envisioned ourselves as a tree casting roots into the ground, into the very heart of the earth. And you know what, it was a pretty damn good meditation. What with all the build up, I thought there must be some serious drugs in this cacao. So, when I started seeing flittering lights through the air, it didn’t surprise me. But I was a little confused: it wasn’t like anything I’d experienced before. I didn’t really feel any different; I was just seeing things. Energies around tarot cards and astral charts. Lines of light connecting artists to their artwork. And I could feel a darkness, a barrier between me and these energies.

But then, no one else was acting like anything strange was going on, so I played it cool and decided to sleep it off. But it wasn’t gone the next morning, so I did what any self-respecting techie millenial would do and started googling. And well, it was sort of a mixed bag. I was either suddenly seeing the spirit energies connecting all matter and energy in the universe together or I was having a psychotic break. But the more I read, the more I became convinced that what I was experiencing was an awakening to the actual magical energies around us all the time. It’s called the Sight.

Well, as you can imagine, it was really distracting. It became very difficult to sit around at my desk all day in an office. Sure, I could see aura’s around my coworkers and imps flitting around causing bugs in our code, but it was nothing compared to the whorl of energies out on the streets and in nature. How could I continue sitting there when I could see just how much more was going on around me?

Thankfully, I ran into the woman of light. I was running through Golden Gate Park soaking up the magic of the place when I had the inspiration to keep running from my apartment on the east end of the park all the way to the ocean on the west end. The trails, however, were especially tortuous that day and I ended up in a part of the park I’d never been. I was surrounded by trees and could only vaguely hear the sound of cars in the distance. Then, off to the side of the path, I saw a small hut made out of sticks and leaves and such. I was thinking it was probably the shelter of a homeless person living in the park, when a woman made of light called out to me from within. She was like a hologram, only projected from some other dimension. I could see the projection lines, but not the source.

“Go first where the gods still live in the streets. There, the everyday magic may loosen the bonds that constrain you.”

“Who is that?” I called, walking towards the hut.

“Once the bonds are loosened you will face your pain and must make a decision. Will you go back to how you were or will you seek out the magic that will bring you back to strength?” The image of the woman flickered and before I could ask another question, she nodded at me and said, “We will meet again.” Then she slowly shrank to nothing, fading into memory.

I puzzled over the meaning of the words. Where do the gods live in the streets? What did she mean “bring me back” to strength? Was I once strong?

I’m embarrassed to say that it only clicked for me a week or so later when watching Dr. Strange. I can’t explain it exactly, but I knew. Dr. Strange found his magic in Nepal. My partner was already suggesting we visit Nepal where she’d studied for six months four years ago.   These two things couldn’t be coincidence.

So, I got a leave of absence from my job and got ready to take a trip.