Yesterday, I had the most intense experience ever. I took 3 friends to the pyramids for their first time. I suggested camels, they picked horses. At around 9pm, we set off into the Giza desert past the pyramids and into oblivion. Without words to describe what I felt inside, I took off on my camel for I heard the wind call my name. No signs, just the moon to direct me further into darkness. They smoked their hash while I strayed off on my own, into my own. The moon was full and the skies were bleeding red. The intensity of the colors, the mystic air, venturing on sand that my ancestors once stepped on, I felt reincarnated.
I felt bad for abandoning my friends and I couldn’t explain later what made me take off. The explanation was hidden on the horizon — when the sun fully set and the moon came alive with magnificent pride. I tranced out beyond the norm but my camel returned me back safely as if it knew where my heart wanted to go and when it was time to return to do what I needed to do – in this lifetime and in preparation for the next. For me, this spiritual ride is what brings me back again and again. I was here, lived here, and died here — a thousand times over.