"There is a pull that comes from the soul. It does not excite us; it stills us."
Hitendra Wadhwa · Mentora
Mentora · A Reflection
Walk Into
the Dark
One night in Yosemite, a shortcut across a dark meadow became a communion. A meditation on the pull that stills us rather than the one that rushes us.
Read slowly
The heart of it
What we feel is not a rush but a hush — calm, centered, connected.
The reflection
From time to time, I feel the pull of Yosemite National Park, and I must respond to it. Two moments, across two different visits, stand out for me. One came in the full light of morning, the other in the depth of night. In the first, Yosemite gave me everything. In the second, it asked me to surrender everything.
The second experience: my family and I had boarded a shuttle to The Ahwahnee to end our day with dinner. Afterward, the shuttle had stopped running, so I set out to walk to our car — perhaps a mile away. As I stepped out, I noticed a shortcut: if I left the road and cut across a broad stretch of grassy meadow, I could reach my destination much more quickly.
The farther I walked, the more the bustle fell away behind me, and the darker and quieter the meadow grew. The lights of the hotel thinned to a faint glow, and then to nothing at all. I had no flashlight with me. Ahead of me lay a large expanse of darkness.
My mind told me to turn back — there are bears in this park, and I could slip and fall in the dark. So I paused.
But the pull was so, so strong.
The pull toward silence. The pull toward darkness. The pull toward the unknown.
On one side lay the comfort and safety of civilization, with its paved, well-lit path. On the other side lay the call of Spirit, beckoning me to open myself to a deeper journey. My soul told me, “Walk into the darkness, Hitendra. Let Spirit wrap you in its quiet, cosmic embrace.”
So I knelt in the cool grass, lifted my face to the stars, closed my eyes, and prayed for a few moments. Then I rose, and walked on into the meadow. Mostly, the next twenty minutes were filled with a beautiful, silent communion between soul and Spirit. With each step, the grip of my mind loosened a little more, and something older and gentler settled in its place.
The mystics speak of a dark night of the soul, a desolation in which Spirit seems to have withdrawn. This was the dark night’s other face: a powerful presence that felt so much closer once the last of the lights had gone out.
"My son, you get so caught up in the theater of life. Tell me, what is it that you are experiencing now?"
"Oh, so much more. It is as though I am touching infinity, eternity, serenity."
"That is my nature — and that is your nature too, behind the veil of your earthly form."
"I feel the same river of life flowing through everything. I feel us humans as the waves, and you, Spirit, as the ocean."
Not every pull is the same
The rush
Comes from adrenaline. Excites us. Can put life and limb at risk. Asks to be questioned.
The hush
Comes from the soul. Stills us. Calm, centered, connected. Asks for our quiet courage.
Carry this with you
Spirit is waiting just past the edge of our well-lit passages in life.
A practice to carry
Find your own meadow
You do not have to travel to Yosemite. Sit with these before the next pull comes — and when it does, you'll know which kind it is.
Where in your life is the path paved and lit — and what might be waiting just past its edge?
Think of the last pull you felt. Was it a rush, or a hush? Did you follow it?
What is your version of walking without a flashlight — a small act of trust you've been resisting?
If a line stayed with you
Send a line that stayed with you
Tap to copy the words that moved you, and pass them to someone standing at their own edge.
"I feel us humans as the waves, and you, Spirit, as the ocean."
Hitendra Wadhwa · Mentora
"Spirit is waiting just past the edge of our well-lit passages in life."
Hitendra Wadhwa · Mentora
"Whenever you feel that calm pull, my wish for you is that you find the quiet courage to follow it."
Hitendra Wadhwa · Mentora
Someone in your life is standing at the edge of their own dark meadow. This might be the nudge they were waiting for.
Until the next pull
Hitendra
Mentora Institute · Bi-Monthly Reflections
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