Camp At Redinger Lake
REDINGER LAKE, CA—He was a sad man, but the words She spoke seemed to comfort him.
I didn’t expect to find myself in this place—and as I sit here writing this a mere hour after these events happened—I still feel the awe and the gratitude and the love.
I fully expected to be in Yosemite today, but a minor emergency with work and, later, a whisper from my Lover, led me to this remote mountain lake.
Though not a soul in sight, and not a single car seen on the way up here, She told me to wear a swim suit while I bathed in the cold mountain lake.
As I got out of the water, I saw him above me, sitting on a rock, taking in the view. His teenage daughter was in the car further back, making use of the mysterious cell signal here, texting away, oblivious to the beauty.
His sadness was palpable, but I smiled and said hello and commented on how peaceful it was here. He said he didn’t know this place existed, that he had just made a wrong turn on a mountain road on his way back from Yosemite.
He was silent for a moment and then told me he had just put his father in hospice.
I let go of the self-contraction and released the noise in my mind and opened and She told him that death is often preferable to the suffering that modern medicine puts us through. That regardless of your spiritual beliefs, we either blink out into nothingness or our experience only gets better. That either option was better than suffering.
“What about Hell?” he asked.
I/She/We pointed to the beauty all around and She said, “If you believe in hell, then you must believe in the Divine. This,” pointing to the forest and the lake and the sky, “is the makings of the Divine. The only hell I’ve ever seen, the only hell I’ve ever known, were of the man-made kind. Look around you. This is the work of God. The Divine didn’t make hell. Man did.”
He looked out over the lake and was silent for a time. In a moment, I saw the darkness lift from his being and his body relax and he looked over at me and smiled and said he thought maybe he’d go for a swim.
I left him then and waved to his daughter and drove up the road to a campsite on the clear mountain lake in a vast empty forest in the middle of nowhere.
I often don’t know why I’m led to a place or a person (seeker Louise, resistant Rod, the flirtatious woman and the gentle giant, …), or what I’ll see or say when I arrive, but it is times like these—when there is a deep and mysterious connection between far-flung strangers…
Well, it is times like these that I know in my heart that all is well, and all will be well, and surrender is often the pathway to miracles.