Mount Taranaki

I first viewed you standing in your

majestic greatness from a distance.

Everything around you appeared

miniature in comparison.

My intention was to stand on your

2,518-meter peak

and drink in the view.

My imagination was in overdrive.

What would it feel like to stand on the

top of New Zealand’s most perfectly

formed 120,000-year-old volcano?

What would I see from your peak?

The mountains in Tongariro National

Park perhaps?

 

My mind still.

My heart open,

I stood at your base in awe of your beauty.

I felt humbled in your sacred presence.

You stood there steadfast in your truth

commanding respect.

In many ways, you were a formidable force:

you created your own weather

that could change in an instant,

catching many climbers by surprise.

For some of them, the cost of their desire

to summit was their lives.

 

You demonstrated the realm of

opposites unfolding simultaneously.

At your lower elevations, there was a

sense of peace, of calm, an open invitation

to spend time with you

as a raging storm unfolded

at your peak, keeping people away.

You expressed permanence

and impermanence as massive

rocks gave way and tumbled

downward with great speed

destroying whatever was in their path.

You were both

the creator and the destroyer,

the protector and the opponent.

 

I spent a month in your presence,

traversing your plethora of

trails as I explored your enchanting

landscape at various elevations.

A mystical experience at 1,500 meters

with two white butterflies,

flying on either side of me as I climbed.

Like two angels enveloping me

in love while guiding me

safely along the path.

 

Your magnificent waterfalls.

Each unique, but one in particular

consumed my attention.

The water cascaded over the jagged

rocky escarpment, reaching a crescendo

as it crashed onto the rocks

then whirled like a dervish as it collected

in the pool below.  

As if you were saying, yes,

there is a time to be audacious,

and allow your true self to be seen

and heard in its own unique way.

 

I sat on your slopes among the

exquisite wild flowers, bearing witness

as the wind swept up the

falling petals and scattered them

on the rocky slope below.

As the wind swirled around me,

I listened with my whole being.

Abscission, surrendering what was

to earth to be transformed anew.

Once again you shared your wisdom

graciously and ever so simply.

 

You had trees unlike any  

I had seen before.

Their unearthly beauty and

presence enthralled me.

I stood silent, fully expecting

them to come to life,

while dozens of entrancing orbs of light

danced among their branches.

Stillness.

Sheer awe and wonder.

At one with the mystery of the

present moment.

 

On clear days, the view from your

higher elevations was spectacular.

The alluring mountains in

Tongariro National Park clearly beheld,

but, not from your summit like I

imagined when I was first

beckoned by you.

The call wasn’t to be on your peak;

you had greater gifts to offer

than your summit view.

 

You are a wise teacher to

those who respect you and who

take the time to learn your ways.

You are not to be taken for granted 

and you make that clear for those

who listen to your wisdom.

I practiced listening intently.

Every day in your presence

was an extraordinary experience.

 

The one day that the conditions

were favorable to summit,

I was no longer seeking your peak.

By simply being in your presence,

listening and absorbing your wisdom

I was unexpectedly standing on a peak

of consciousness I hadn’t

sought or even imagined.

Deep, deep gratitude to you,

my wise teacher.

 

May I follow your phenomenal example,

standing steadfast in the truth of

who I am, while graciously sharing

my wisdom by being it.

May I be audacious and radical

when it serves my highest good

and the highest good of all.

May I embrace my magnificence

while shining the light for those

around me to know theirs.

May I always remember that

I am loved and guided.

May I surrender daily to the light, to be

continuously transformed anew.

Katharina Reed

Mount Taranaki

Photo Credit: Katharina Reed