Blog Entry 31 * 6-3-22
Krishna told me I could’ve just chilled out and that the grind at Taos would’ve passed, but honestly, I think I’m kind of ready to be off the road for a bit. I need some time to figure out what I’m going to do with myself once I get back home in a week or so. The constant motion has a way of clearing the mind, but it also leaves a quiet emptiness—a space where questions about purpose and next steps start to echo.
When I arrived in Crestone, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was hoping to find. It turns out the town is mostly made up of retreat centers, many started by aging devotees and now mostly closed to the public—unless there’s an active program or retreat happening. There are just a couple of stores that carry the essential supplies locals need. Walking the quiet streets, I felt a sense of stillness that was both welcoming and a little strange after so many miles of road noise and activity. The pace here seems measured, almost meditative, as if the land itself encourages reflection.
Crestone is unique in that someone with a sizable piece of land once offered plots for free to any spiritual organization willing to build a temple there. That offer led to the creation of “Temple Road,” which winds along the ridgeline and is home to a variety of temples from many different faiths. Driving up and down Temple Road, I felt a profound sense of devotion expressed in so many different ways—Buddhist stupas, Hindu shrines, small chapels, and more. Each structure carries its own energy, inviting those who come here to slow down, breathe, and connect with something beyond the ordinary.
I visited the Lakshmi Temple first. The energy there is calm, nurturing, and expansive. The altar radiates a gentle warmth, and I found myself silently offering gratitude for the abundance and blessings in my life. It’s remarkable how certain energies can ground you, even without words, rituals, or interaction with others.
Later, I walked over to the Dharma Sangha Zen Center. Here, the quiet is more deliberate, almost rigorous, inviting stillness and mindfulness in every movement. The simplicity of the space, the careful placement of objects, and the muted tones all combine to create an environment that encourages presence—being fully here, without distraction. I spent a long while just sitting and observing, noticing the subtle sounds of the wind, birds, and occasional footstep.
There’s something about Crestone that makes me reflect on how different paths of devotion can coexist in harmony. It’s a reminder that the ultimate aim—connection to the divine, cultivation of peace—is shared, even if the forms differ. I left the temples feeling simultaneously humble, uplifted, and inspired.
The photos in this post are from the Lakshmi Temple and the Dharma Sangha Zen Center here in Crestone, CO. They only capture a fraction of the energy, but I hope they give a sense of the sacred, quiet beauty of this place.