Sacred Land

It’s a sunny winter day. Riding my bike along the gorgeous coastline of Big Sur. The light this time of year has a unique quality; great dark rocks rise from the ocean, super crisp against the deep blue ocean. Blue sky, soft streaks of clouds get cut off by a dramatic line of dissolving white fluff a silent commercial jet plane leaves behind.

As I lean into the curve on my Suzuki Katana 750, a wide wing bird takes a deep dive to its pray. I hear the sound of the waves crashing the cliffs mixed with the Katana’s engine as I twist the handle to accelerate coming out of the curve.

After buying some fuel at Big Sur at almost double the price of Monterey, yet still half the price of a gallon at Esalen, I head back and stop at the bakery for a cup of coffee and a croissant. On the wooden bench in front of a long natural curved wooden table lay the New York Times. I read it front to back leaving only the sports section out, getting a sense of the whole entire world, I contemplate the place I am now.

Air strikes fly over Gaza, while I look over the peaceful mountains of Big Sur. People consider this land sacred. Others consider the land in Jerusalem to be sacred.
Here it seems people tend to the land and try to preserve it as much as possible because it is sacred. In Israel (or Palestine) people shed blood, for it is sacred.

“It is the ancient Indians that made this place sacred” told me a friend a few days ago. I assume they decided it to be sacred for the richness of the land, for the hot springs, and streams, for the Great Ocean, and dramatic coastline. Then, is it the beauty, the abundance or the intention of the people that make the land sacred? In Israel it seems to be memory; history, which is part of the past, religions that relay on the past as part of its presence. A connection to people that lived on that land, people that had rituals, experiences, lives and deaths on that land.
Can any land be sacred? Can I create a magnificent garden with a huge dramatic rock in the center and call it sacred, a place for people to come and worship peace? This place will be sacred to all, to anyone that wishes to be there in peace.

It seems to me that when one place is declared as sacred, it assumes another is not. Sacredness creates duality, a sense of priority over another.
Do I take care of Big Sur better than I take care of NY? Just because NY might host more greed, or might have more concrete, do I spit my gum on the sidewalk?

What if we treated all land as sacred? Took care of everything we see with care and respect. By not choosing, not taking sides; can there be more harmony, more equal care and understanding. Can we accept differences without needing to change, to control or project our point of view?

It starts with me, here at this table, accepting the SUV’s arriving to fill up their tanks, greeting them with the same warm hello I great the Prius Drivers.
I shall keep riding my motorcycle for now, even as the weather is getting colder as my own act of freedom, my own little contribution to reducing consumption of oil.

I bundle up for the ride back, grateful for the hot natural spring baths that await me at the end of the ride.