The Twelfth Insight - James Redfield [30]
I wondered suddenly, in the interest of truth, whether I should have told Peterson about the men who seemed to be holding Rachel against her will. Probably not, I figured, since I didn’t know for sure if that assumption was true. I thought for a moment about reading some of the two Integrations Peterson had given me, but I found I couldn’t concentrate. I was getting antsy— I had to do something.
Finally, I decided to move ahead in the direction Wil had traveled.
“Expect Synchronicity,” I reminded myself out loud. “And stay centered in the truth of what you’re doing, and in Alignment.”
I proceeded carefully up the canyon until I noticed another trail that bore to the right through a rocky gap toward the northeast. The trail looked to be rarely used overall, but it contained dozens of fresh human tracks. Following them, I proceeded to another large mound of red rock where I could survey the flats farther to the north.
About a quarter mile ahead, I could see a small clearing where many people seemed to be camped. It was just across the line into the area Wil, and now Peterson, had talked about: the Secret Mountain Wilderness. The multiridged mountain towered in the distance. Camping, I knew, was expressly forbidden in this wilderness. Whoever all those people were in the clearing, their party wasn’t going to last very long.
As a gray dusk descended, I hiked down the slope and into the flats. Here the terrain was less rocky and much more green, dotted with large areas of junipers, and large oaks. Several rabbits flushed from the rocks as I walked.
When I reached the clearing, I couldn’t quite believe how many people were there. From where I stood, I could see at least two acres filled with campers. Dozens of people were walking around. It was as though someone had organized a music festival of sixty people two miles out in the desert, in a spot where everyone had to hike to. In reality, it seemed to be a totally spontaneous gathering, born of rumor and a desire to find out about the Document.
The larger reality of what might be occurring struck me. Ostensibly, the pieces of these writings had been dispersed all over the world. Was something like this gathering happening in many other places, all at the same time?
Suddenly, I could hear the low whine of a four-wheeler far back in the distance toward the canyon, and I knew the rangers were about to move this way. Hurrying ahead, I picked out a spot near the east side of the clearing, figuring I could make a quick getaway into the junipers when the rangers came. Around me was the glow of eight or ten campfires.
I cooked up some soup on the stove and ate it, waiting for complete darkness, and then I ventured out to see if Wil was here, or Rachel. For half an hour or so I walked around, glancing at the people and listening to their conversations about the Document. Different groups were trading copies and talking about their experiences with Conscious Conversation.
For the most part, I was ahead in the Integrations compared to those I was listening to, and I didn’t feel the urge to engage anyone. I wanted to cruise around first and see who was here. After a long time, I had completely checked out most of the sites, except for several larger groups near the southern edge of the camping area. The first one included at least twenty people, all camped together.
In the center of the group, a small gas camping lantern hung from a tree, flooding the area with an odd yellow light, like the bug lights you see on porches out in the country. Moths and dragonflies eerily circled the lantern.
As I walked closer, I almost ran into another man who was entering the camp