Because This Isn't Hollywood...
March 31, 2008
by Jeffrey Pierce

Once upon a time, when I was young and had a little less perspective on the world, I wore big black boots, cut my hair very short, and did all sorts of really crazy things for the United States military. I jumped out of planes, rappelled from helicopters, and my unit, the 2/75 Infantry (Rangers) was eventually the subject of a book and feature film called Black Hawk Down. I'd slept in conditions so cold that, even huddling with a buddy for warmth, our shivering would shake the other awake. Feats of strength and endurance were part and parcel of the military special operations world.

So spending some time skyclad in 48 degree water? Long enough to meditate? With a support team? No problem at all.

Yeah, I really am that crazy.

So Bri and I headed to the Oregon Coast, only to find that I'd transposed "low tide" with "high tide" when I'd been finalizing the preparatory work that morning. I guess that's what I get for getting out of bed to hit the gym before the clock reads 3:30 AM. The surf was high, crashing into the rocks around us and the risk of being swept out to sea with the undertow was very real. Still, I'd been called to the spot. We'd prepped for every eventuality. It was time.

The night before, I'd had a dream. I was dressed as a warrior, my armor and garb a conglomerations of various times and places, my sword heavy at my side. If it hadn't been for the third person camera in the dream, I would have been unaware that there was anyone else with me, but as the camera panned around, I could see Briana standing behind me, just off of my left shoulder, and my dear friend and mystical brother, Jason, standing a little farther back to my right. Behind them were a sea of warriors, tens of thousands strong, but I was so focused on the task before me that I was unaware of their presence.

Before us was a mountain and we began to climb, the foothills giving away to narrow ledges, and the top of the ascent capped with a cliff face we'd have to rock climb one at a time. Beyond that lay a battle. We had our army, they had theirs. I'd be leading the charge from a strategically impossible position. We'd come over the lip of the cliff, one by one, most likely being picked off by the immense forces that awaited us a soon as we appeared.

As I neared the top of the cliff, searching for each hand and foothold as I scaled the rock face, I had an absolute sense of peace about what lay on the other side. I would die in battle or we would win the day. Either way, it was in the hand of the gods and my thread would be woven into the weave of reality just as it should be, regardless of the outcome.

Sitting in the car, gazing out into the heavy surf of the Pacific Ocean, I had the same sense of peace. Looking at the crashing waves, I knew that I wouldn't be able to maintain my footing, that I would succumb to the force of the sea. But I also knew that I had been led to this place, at this time, and it was in the hands of the gods. My thread would be woven into the weave of reality, just as it should be, regardless of the whether or not I survived the night.

And that's when I realized, the test wasn't in the cold water. It was in coming to that place, at that time, and being willing and at peace to do whatever was asked at me that was the challenge. And I'd passed.

Still, I'm stubborn. And careful. I don't like to repeat lessons. So the spirit world made it very clear for me. As I got out of the car and shouldered the pack with our supplies, a slender woman in a bathing suit wandered into view, wading out until she was standing knee deep in the heavy surf.

And you know, the whole challenge that is so necessary to the Warrior archetype takes a serious hit when people are splashing around in bathing suits.

So Bri and I shared some time on the beach. We laughed as we tested out the single mummy bag that we'd brought to restore my body temperature, discovering that while we could get in it and... um... we could get in it, there was almost no room for movement, including unzipping the darn thing once we finally got it closed. The line between life and death was replaced with giggling and squirming around in a very snug mummy bag.

But it was there in that sleeping bag that the other lesson of the night came into play. Briana is my soulmate in every aspect of the world, which means that when we're together and have a moment to connect, there's a strong "beyond physical reality" conduit that exists between us. It tends to add a really wonderful perspective to the mundane. Laying there, the memories of past lives whispering around the edges of our world, I realized, there isn't anything to let go of. When we leave this life, we simply are who we are. The memories, the experiences, what we label "good" and "bad" give us the opportunity to test our abilities and spread our wings, but they don't change our soul, who we are from lifetime to lifetime. It's our soul that's important. Everything else is simply sets and props.

And that perspective is so key to everything that I do. Think about it this way. In the bigger scheme of things, we're all actors in some grand play. We aren't "Jeffrey" and "Briana." We're soulmates and souls, spirits and energy, experiencing a single lifetime from a physical perspective. These lives, these bodies, are simply characters in a play. The issue is that we lose sight of that and, in doing so, we allow ourselves to become defined and limited by the roles we play in this lifetime.

My higher self? It wasn't so much a process of calling it in as it was acknowledging and accepting that it's a part of me. Higher end spirituality is a pretty ego-less venture. In retrospect, I should have realized that it would be more about surrendering than claiming, more about letting go that pulling in.

If this were Hollywood, there would have been some dramatic ritual that needed to be performed. After all, I'd come here with a very clear intent in mind, following the same instincts and leading that I've followed my entire path. But spirituality addresses exactly what we need it to address, not what we think we need to work with. In all honesty, it was a much greater challenge for me not to act. Had I been leading with my ego instead of my spirit, I would have waded out deep into the crashing waves and gone ahead with the rite. Instead, I had to let go and simply acknowledge that I had been led there for a different reason. It's like telling a prize fighter as they're dancing around the ring that simply showing up was enought to win the match.

There's still a small amount of ritual work that I feel led to do regarding this process. Submerging in the water was only part of the ritual. With that need removed, I can go to a body of water (most likely up in the mountains near where I did my vision quest) and finish the work without doing more than placing my hands in the water or possibly wading in until I'm approximately knee deep in the flow. Or at least that's what I thought. As Briana took her second level of Reiki training last Saturday, I found myself up in the mountains, in the midst of a snow storm, staring skyclad at an icy river as I prepared to finish up the rite.

But that's a story for next time.

Originally published at www.oldways.com/articles/2008/080331.html