by Scott Blum
My epiphany seemed to enliven my son, and for the first time in his life, he opened his almondshaped eyes and looked at me intently.
“Nice to meet you, Oliver Moon,” I said softly. “I’m your father, and I’m so glad you’re finally here.”
EPILOGUE
Do you want to go to the medicine wheel?” asked Madisyn on an exceptionally beautiful spring day a few weeks after we had returned home from the hospital.
Some friends of ours had discovered an ancient medicine wheel that had remained hidden for decades near the peak of Mount Ashland. They had carefully restored the sacred site and occasionally shared its location with a few lucky people, whom we were fortunate to be among. Madisyn and I both found it to be one of the most profoundly rejuvenating places in southern Oregon, and reserved our time there for when we needed it most.
“I don’t know if the snow has completely melted,” I replied, “but we can drive as far as we’re able and hike the rest of the way to the trailhead. Today would be a perfect day for Oliver to discover the joys of being in nature.”
During the whirlwind of activity throughout the previous several weeks, we had been unable to fully appreciate the changing of the seasons. Ashland had always been one of my favorite places to be in the springtime, and as we drove out of town toward the freeway, I reveled in the beauty of the flowers that remained in bloom along the boulevard.
After exiting the freeway and driving along the base of the mountain, we were able to make it most of the way up the unmarked dirt road with our four-wheel drive before a large snowdrift prevented us from continuing onward. Fortunately, we safely navigated our way to an open clearing, where we parked the car.
“Are you sure you’re up for hiking the rest of the way?” I asked. Although Madisyn was feeling much better than she had been before the birth, I was still mindful that she hadn’t fully recovered from major surgery.
“I really need to go,” she replied. “I haven’t had a meaningful connection with nature in almost a year.”
I fumbled with the front-loading baby carrier, trying to remember which strap went where. Although I had given it a practice run at the house, this was the first time I had attempted to use it in the real world. Thankfully, Oliver was uncharacteristically patient with me as I threaded his tiny arms and legs through their respective holes before buttoning him in. Once strapped in, he looked like a cross between an infant and a turtle, with his tiny arms and legs dangling out of the padded brown shell. The top of his head was barely visible, and his nose pressed tightly against my chest.
We hiked up the road as far as we could, although there were times when we needed to forge a detour after coming across a snowdrift that had remained perpetually shaded. At first it was nerve-racking to keep my balance while hiking up a slippery mountain road with a newborn strapped to my chest, but I began to enjoy the trek much more once we found footsteps in the snow that we were able to follow. The hike to the trailhead took much longer than expected, but after pausing a few times for Madisyn to get her breath, we all made it in good spirits.
“Look at that!” I gasped as we emerged from the darkened forest into a vast sunlit meadow. “Can you believe how beautiful it is this time of year?”
We had visited this very place on several occasions over the years, but this was the first time we had seen it so alive. The gently sloping field was completely covered in tiny blue wildflowers that swayed in the breeze as far as the eye could see. The sea of indigo stretched on for miles, and the air was filled with a pungent sweetness that smelled like a unique blend of French lavender and white sage.
My heart began to lighten as we meandered through the meadow and straddled a web of rivulets distributing the melting snow among the recently sprouted vegetation. There was something about this marshy game of hopscotch that seemed to erase our troubles and force us to focus on being present as a family of three. As we continued on our journey, I found myself kissing Oliver’s silky chestnut hair every time my steps gently brought the top of his head to meet my lips.
“It’s this way,” called Madisyn, who was already several steps off the well-worn path. “You’d get lost in the wilderness for days if I wasn’t with you.”
I tried my best to come up with a credible rebuttal, but realized that she was at least partially right. She did have a much better sense of direction than I did, although my pesky Y chromosome oftentimes made that difficult to admit. After catching up with her, we came to a bluff that provided an exquisite view of the canyons below. Waiting for us beyond the imaginary border dividing Oregon from California was one of the most majestic natural wonders in North America. The clear blue sky kissed the top of stunning snowcapped Mount Shasta, and a single white cloud crowned Shastina, the mountain’s own sister peak.
I turned sideways in order to make sure that the vista wouldn’t be lost on my papoose. “What do you think of that, Mr. Moon?”
Our baby’s eyes widened as he scanned the panoramic view, taking in as much as he could from his limited vantage point. After staring at the mountain for nearly a minute, he captured the magnificence perfectly with a single syllable: “Humph!”
Madisyn and I burst out laughing, as we were both in awe of our baby’s eloquence. It was amazing to see the world through his eyes.
“Come on, we’re nearly there,” urged Madisyn as she led us a few hundred yards across the mesa to the edge of the ceremonial grounds.
The large medicine wheel comprised hundreds of rocks and pebbles meticulously arranged in the shape of a perfect circle that was divided into four quadrants. Each intersecting spoke was made by laying different-colored stones: reddish terra-cotta for the southern direction, pointing to the mountain; black for the west; white for the north; and yellowish brown for the east. In the hub of the wheel was a simple altar containing a collection of exotic specimens, including arrowheads, crystals, feathers, and the remains of a recently burned smudge stick.
“It looks like we aren’t the first to visit this year,” I said, noticing the mound of fresh ashes. “Whoever came here last was probably responsible for the footsteps in the snow we saw before.”
I carefully unbuttoned the chocolate-brown carrier to release Oliver and dropped the tangle of padded straps to the ground.
“Keep him covered up,” said Madisyn as she handed me a blanket from her rattan tote. “I’m going to the edge to find a rock to sit on.”
“Don’t you want to come into the medicine wheel?”
“Not today,” she said. “Today, I need to be with the mountain.”
Oliver and I watched as Madisyn slowly disappeared over the edge of the precipice. Although the canyon walls were steep, I knew that there were a few large boulders just over the edge before the terrain became too treacherous.
“I guess it’s just you and me, kid,” I whispered to Oliver as we began walking around the exterior edge of the wheel. After circling four times, we stopped outside the southeastern quadrant, and I took a deep breath. I could sense the energy pulsing from inside the circle, and when we stepped over the seemingly arbitrary line of stones, I felt as if I had entered the heart of a powerful electric generator. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as the vibrant energetic current connected me to its powerful source.
I’d felt a similar sensation when I had visited the sacred site before, but then it had been much subtler. It was as if my son was a powerful conduit to the very source energy I was feeling, and somehow his presence amplified its power a hundredfold. My paternal instinct made me question whether it was safe to remain inside with a newborn; however, when I lifted him up, I could see in his eyes that not only was he obviously safe, but he was likely responsible for everything I was feeling.
After we sat down, Oliver was single-mindedly drawn to the center hub and attempted to grab for a specific item that caught his attention.
“Do you want this?” I asked as I picked up a small arrowhead that had been handmade from quartz crystal. The years had dulled i
ts chipped edges, although the distinctive shape remained recognizably intact. My son eagerly grabbed the relic from my fingers and held it tightly in his closed fist. Somehow the talisman comforted him, and I took the opportunity to lie down on my back and position him facedown on my chest.
I closed my eyes, and as our energy joined together, I felt the serenity embodied within the arrowhead begin to flow through my child and into the crevices of my soul. There was no more separation between him and me, or the earth and the sky. We dissolved into each other and hovered simultaneously deep in the earth and high in the sky in a sublimely meditative state that had no beginning or end.
Then a powerful surge of energy entered my body through the soles of my feet. The force was so great that I felt my knees buckle, and when I opened my eyes, I saw Mount Shasta towering above us. Flowing from its snow-covered crevices was a river of opaline energy that tethered my feet to its mountainous heart center. The powerful force was so great that I felt more a part of the earth than I ever had before.
Simultaneously, the cloudless sky ripped open, and from within the atmospheric wound a beam of golden light shone brightly onto the back of my child and seeped into my chest. He filled me with divine light unlike anything I had ever felt before. My son connected me to Father Sky, and I connected him to Mother Earth. And together we combined to embody the entirety of the universe. In that moment of crystal clarity, I understood that we needed each other to be whole—we needed each other to be fully alive.
Gradually, the intensity began to fade, and once the rapturous energy had nearly dissipated, I sat up, bringing Oliver to me, nose to nose. As I looked deep into my son’s sparkling blue eyes, I could sense that not only had he experienced everything I had, but he remained filled with the essence that came from both the sky and the mountain. I silently prayed that I could do the same.
Then he held out his tiny pillowed hand and uncurled his fingers to reveal the arrowhead that he had carefully protected during our divine encounter.
“Thank you,” I said as I returned the artifact to the hub of the medicine wheel. As I closed my eyes again to meditate on everything that had just happened, Oliver began to fidget for the first time since we had entered the sacred grounds. He impatiently tugged my shirt collar, and once he got my attention, he raised his arm and pointed to the east.
At first I didn’t see what he was pointing at, but I gradually discerned a familiar shape begin to emerge from the blinding glare of the field.
“Oh, it’s a deer,” I whispered as my son looked at me with wide eyes while continuing to point. My gaze returning to the animal, I gasped as I realized that it wasn’t an ordinary deer. It was a pure white deer. From head to hoof, her fur was as white as snow. In my life I had seen thousands of the graceful animals, but I had never seen one so fair before.
The doe tentatively walked toward us until we were able to look into her large brown eyes. She then stood still and stared at Oliver intently while he returned her gaze. It was remarkable how they appeared to be having a conversation without making a sound.
Then in an instant, the white deer bounded away as soon as she heard rustling coming from the cliff. She was gone by the time Madisyn emerged from the edge of the canyon, slowly walking toward us.
After bowing to the altar, I quickly carried Oliver out of the medicine wheel and greeted my wife.
“Did you see that?” I asked excitedly. “The deer?”
Madisyn slowly shook her head, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. Without pause, Oliver reached up with his tiny fingers to wipe it away. And for the first time in his life, he smiled.
My son’s smile beamed like sunshine, and its radiant warmth proceeded to dry every last one of my wife’s tears. His toothless grin was as infectious as it was heartwarming, and within moments both Madisyn and I couldn’t help but join in.
In that tender moment, I finally understood that not only had this precious child arrived to take care of my family …
He was here to take care of us all.
Madisyn Taylor, Scott Blum, and Oliver Moon
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Scott Blum is the best-selling author of Waiting for Autumn and Summer’s Path and the co-founder of the popular inspirational website DailyOM (www.dailyom.com). He is also a filmmaker and multimedia artist who has collaborated with several popular authors, musicians, and visual artists and has produced many critically acclaimed works, including writing and directing the feature film Walk-In, based on his book Summer’s Path. Scott lives in the mountains of Ashland, Oregon, with his wife and business partner, Madisyn Taylor, and their son, Oliver Moon.
Website: www.scottblum.net
RESOURCES
DailyOM is the online resource that Scott Blum and his wife, Madisyn Taylor, co-founded together. It has become the premier destination for providing inspirational content, products, and courses around the globe from some of today’s best-selling authors and luminaries.
www.dailyom.com
Madisyn Taylor is a best-selling author, the co-founder and Editor-in-Chief of DailyOM, and Scott Blum’s beautiful and talented wife. Attentively combining soulful wisdom and inspired design, Madisyn nurtures a range of projects that revitalize the spirit, heal the body, and beautify the home. Each project is created not only to take advantage of all the best that nature and spirit have to offer, but to do so in a way that is aesthetically pleasing and visually graceful.
www.madisyntaylor.com
Andrew Harvey is an author, religious scholar, and teacher of mystic traditions, known primarily for his popular books on spiritual or mystical themes, beginning with his 1983 A Journey in Ladakh. He is the author of more than 30 books, including The Hope: A Guide to Sacred Activism, The Sun at Midnight, the critically acclaimed The Way of Passion: A Celebration of Rumi, The Return of the Mother, and Son of Man. Andrew was the subject of the 1993 BBC documentary The Making of a Modern Mystic. He is the founder of the Sacred Activism movement and serves as the director of the Institute of Sacred Activism.
www.andrewharvey.net
Marina McDonald is the founder and director of Movements of Love, an accelerated, highly experiential group process for personal, spiritual, and ancestral healing of traumas and entanglements. Resting on a foundation of Buddhist principles of compassion and nonviolence, Movements of Love is the result of carefully weaving together modern healing modalities with ancient indigenous technologies to offer a truly transformative experience of personal and planetary healing.
www.movementsoflove.org
Hay House Titles of Related Interest
YOU CAN HEAL YOUR LIFE, the movie,
starring Louise L. Hay & Friends
(available as a 1-DVD program and an expanded 2-DVD set)
Watch the trailer at: www.LouiseHayMovie.com
THE SHIFT, the movie,
starring Dr. Wayne W. Dyer
(available as a 1-DVD program and an expanded 2-DVD set)
Watch the trailer at: www.DyerMovie.com
DAILYOM: Learning to Live, by Madisyn Taylor
THE GOLDEN MOTORCYCLE GANG: A Story of
Transformation, by Jack Canfield and William Gladstone
THE HIDDEN POWER OF YOUR PAST LIVES:
Revealing Your Encoded Consciousness,
by Sandra Anne Taylor (book-with-CD)
THE HOPE: A Guide to Sacred Activism, by Andrew Harvey
LION EYES, by Victor Villaseñor
THROUGH INDIGO’S EYES,
by Tara Taylor and Lorna Nicholson
All of the above are available at your local bookstore,
or may be ordered by contacting Hay House (see next page).
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