Words from Pep - Dark magic of the ego

Words from Pep - Dark magic of the ego

A cloudless dazzling sky, like an enormous parasol, arched above me. Leaving the rocky slope behind, I continued upward on the snow and ice. Now over 600 feet above the Arctic Ocean the sun’s reflected glare brought my pupils to their smallest aperture possible. I turned away from the brilliance, pulled dark goggles from my pack and slipped them over my eyes. In a few minutes crampons with one inch claws were secured to my boots and I ascended the glacier higher into the blue. Sweat began to build under my coat and hat. I lashed them to the pack. The silence was absolute. No movement of air. The only sound, blood pumping through my ears, labored breathing. Finally my second wind kicked in and it felt like I could continue upward, surmounting the very throne room of God. Around me photons of color filled my vision as microscopic crystals of ice refracted light. Step after step, higher and higher. Overcoming a drift of crusted snow I approached the final terrace of ice. Now on hands and knees I drove the toe claws of my crampons into the steep slope. Slivers of ice clattered downward through the still air. I leaned forward and pressed my body against the chill before the final rise. Slowly the angle reduced and before me loomed the edge of the world. I had conquered the climb. In the stillness, the crushing silence, I pushed my head over the granite lip. There 1300 feet below, tiny winged profiles soared above the still frozen ocean. I looked away, dizzy, unsteady and hugged the stone I lay upon. At that moment, in this northern world of blue, white and grey; sky, snow, and stone, I was stripped of pretense and pride, forced to confront the raw and humbling truth of my frailty. It is only by grace, pure and simple, that I exist at all. Only by grace that I am allowed the illusion of my dominion over life, and by an even greater grace I am brought back from the edge of arrogance to humility and gratitude. The conceit of my self-importance, my power, the deception of control, was driven out of the shadows by the light of a higher consciousness. As my ego struggled to return to the helm, to conjure again the smoke and mirrors of its dark magic, into the air my lips uttered simply, “Thank you for my existence.” A raven perched itself atop the cliff to my left. I smiled in appreciation to the Great Mystery for speaking to me. The iridescent bird croaked a bit of advice and leaped into the void. I turned and in meekness began my descent.

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