Summit (or Fellowship Found)

13 Nov

Getting close to the top? – Adam’s Peak

My sense of time got lost. I can only guess that I had been doing the ascent for over 3 hours and the lightness I had felt in my stride was now gone.  I was cramping in parts of my legs that I did not know existed and the bottom of my feet felt like they had collapsed. The angles of the stairs were extremely steep and each step up for me at that point was like accomplishing a small miracle.  My breathing was labored and I could only do about 4 to 5 steps before having to stop. I looked back behind me and couldn’t see much. I had entered into the whiteness above only to see that I had come out of the whiteness below. It was as if I was in purgatory.

Looking back into the mist

The journey for me at that point resembled a carefully designed torture exercise. It was meant to wean out those who could not mentally step up and steel themselves through the punishing ordeal. The stone steps had no give and they actually felt like they pushed back on my feet with each step I took. The air temperature had also noticeably dropped, but my body was so flushed that I felt hot. The rain still fell in an annoying barrage of pinpricks.  I pressed and pressed — my instincts told me I was close and that just around the next bend I would see the top. And then something appeared out of the mist and darted towards me.  I was startled. I had seen no signs of life — no birds, squirrels, or people ever since I had begun the journey. But, before me now was something on 4-legs bounding down to me in a blur. It was a fox-sized dog and it was treating me like I was the first thing on 2-legs it had seen in a very long time.   There was something strange about this dog. It gave a little squawk when it first saw me, but then looked at me as if it had been expecting me. I gave the dog a piece of an energy bar and it eagerly took it. I asked the dog, “Am I there yet?” It wagged its tail so I began walking up and it charged ahead of me.

Dog & entry gate to summit of Adam’s Peak

I saw the last flight of stairs that led up to an entry gate. I felt an adrenaline boost and I nearly levitated up the remaining stairs. On both sides of me were small, squatty shelters which appeared to be abandoned. They had a few windows and doors, but I saw no lights in them and heard no human voices. I came to the top of the stairs and steadied myself on the gate as I reached down to remove my shoes. My bare feet came out of their encasements swollen and grateful to be freed. I placed my shoes outside of the gate and entered. Interestingly, the dog who guided me to the summit did not follow me. He sat outside and I went in alone. I felt a chill run through my body as my feet touched the cold slabs of the stone floor.  The summit of Adam’s Peak comes to a head in the form of a square.  In the middle of the square is a raised shrine with one more staircase that must be climbed. I wasn’t ready to climb up to the shrine yet. I wanted to walk around it in a clockwise fashion first. I slowly began the small circuit around the shrine and as I did I saw how fast the monsoon clouds swirled around the summit. They relentlessly jetted across and through the mountain top. I had heard that on clear days one can look out from Adam’s Peak and see the city of Colombo in the distance. I was barely able to see 10 feet below me when I stood over the railing of the summit. After I finished the circuit, I walked towards the shrine in the center and it came into a foggy focus.  As I looked up, I saw 3 shapes tucked away along the wall. I couldn’t believe it — these were people standing silently in prayer. They must have come up before me or via another route. I was careful not to disturb them as I walked up the steps and I positioned myself on the same wall where the men stood. They were facing the footprint, but as I had heard, the footprint was behind steel doors that were locked. So, all I saw were the locked doors. But, the 3 men were so composed and their presence filled me with such reverence that I closed my eyes and as I listened to their whispered chants, I could see through the doors. It wasn’t a stone image of a human footprint that I saw. Instead, I saw the shared heritage of the human spirit and its quest for understanding its connection to the universe.

The Shrine housing the holy footprint

When the 3 men finished their praying, they looked at me — intrigued by my presence.  I said hello and one of them spoke a little English. He told me he was a reporter for a newspaper in Colombo and had come to climb Adam’s Peak for the first time and write about the experience. He had come up that morning with 2 individuals who had served as his guides and said their route had been very difficult because of the wind, rain, and other monsoonal conditions. I told him that I had climbed up myself that morning from the Dalhousie route. He wanted me to talk about my experience and my understanding of Buddhism, and so we chatted for a bit. He snapped a photo of me and then invited me to have a coffee and snack break in one of the shelters just below the shrine. He said there was one security person who lives at the summit during the non-pilgrimage season in order to watch over the shrine. I told him I would join them in a few minutes. The 3 men then walked away and I was left in the shrine by myself. The wind whistled straight through the shrine with such force that it almost carried me aloft a few times. After some time alone, another figure emerged out of the cloud sitting on the summit. It was a Sri Lankan Buddhist monk wearing a wet, chocolate-colored robe. He seemed very young and he nodded at me as he entered the shrine. I was able to figure out that he was there for noontime prayers and he began to prostrate himself before the footprint.

Noon prayers at the footprint

I was moved by his dedication — he was shivering and soaking wet — but there he was on his knees on the cold unforgiving ground doing his recitations in front of the hidden footprint. When the monk finished, he smiled at me and we tried to speak broken Sinhalese and English to one another. It didn’t matter what we were trying to say — and nothing really needed to be said. I followed him out of the shrine and saw 2 bells hung off a cable above one of the railings. The tradition is that each pilgrim rings these bells based on the number of ascents the pilgrim makes up to Adam’s Peak. I rang each bell 1 time.

Quiet contemplation

I found my way back to the entry gate and found my shoes. My feet felt like they had shriveled during the time I had spent at the shrine and they sank into my shoes. I walked toward the shelter on my left and saw a door slightly ajar. I entered it and found my 3 companions from the shrine sitting on bunks and the security guard was talking to them.  The individual who spoke English welcomed me inside and asked the security guard to get me a coffee and biscuit.  I was told there was no electricity or running water up here, so the security guard and monk that live at the summit had to get supplies brought up from people every other week or so during the monsoon season.  I took my coffee greedily since I needed something to warm my blood.  It was thick and dark with a chunk of sugar thrown in. A godsend. The security guard gave me a biscuit to eat along with my coffee and I thanked him. Here I was then: On top of Adam’s Peak with 4 Sri Lankan chaps sitting in the dark exchanging smiles and having coffee. I told them about a few of my travels to other Buddhist sites and each time my stories were translated into Sinhalese by the English speaker, I could see the others react with wonder. I learned that none of these individuals had ever been outside of Sri Lanka, so I was providing them with firsthand glimpses into these other lands.  I tried to speak in a non-boastful manner and told them that the trek up Adam’s Peak during the monsoon through such difficult conditions was the most incredible experience — although I didn’t even see the footprint!  It was the journey that was important and that journey had allowed me to meet them and the monk. We were now breaking biscuits with one another and connecting our separate worlds through a shared experience. That was the imprint we had come for — not a stony image but something of reflective resonance.  That’s what a pilgrimage was all about.

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One Response to “Summit (or Fellowship Found)”

  1. ceh hacking July 30, 2014 at 8:02 pm #

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