Blog Entry 23 * 5-28-22
Two thoughts that I’ve written in my journal to remember are: First, that each day a certain amount of time needs to be spent focused on Krishna to maintain the clarity and growth that a person seeks to achieve and sustain. This is the anchor of my journey. It’s amazing how quickly the mind can drift when this daily centering is neglected—like a compass needle wavering without its true north.
Second, when traveling and staying in areas that might feel risky, isolated, or uncomfortable, it's important to keep moving a little each day—driving to a new place before sleeping again. There’s something about this rhythm that greatly contributes to the safety of someone wandering through unfamiliar areas. It’s almost like following an invisible current of grace, trusting that by moving forward you’re guided to exactly where you’re meant to be.
At this point, I was in Utah, which is a beautiful place, but it didn’t quite have the same sense of freedom that I had been enjoying in Arizona and Nevada. The mountains rise like sentinels around you, stunning yet a little imposing. There’s a stillness here that feels heavier, more structured—less wild than the open stretches of desert I had just left behind. I had made it to Salt Lake City and spent the night at a truck stop there. The glow of the city lights and the sound of trucks idling all night was oddly comforting, like being in a moving caravan of strangers all searching for something.
After a good night’s sleep, I woke up wanting to meditate and soul travel again. This time, though, I decided to do something different. I invited Krishna to join me. A beam of light came through my meditation space and lifted me to the place I wanted to go. It was not the usual subtle lifting of my own effort but something much deeper and steadier—as if the wind itself had changed direction and was carrying me.
Previously, when I sought soul travel, I preferred to do it solo (though it’s an illusion that we are ever truly solo). In my mind, that solitude gave me freedom to explore without interference. But a friend of mine had suggested that I invite Krishna to join me, and it turned out to be a beautiful experience. With Krishna present, the meditation opened like a lotus flower—layer by layer, effortlessly. Krishna guided the meditation with openness, shaping everything as He wished.
I surrendered and fully enjoyed the experience of sharing this meditation with Him. The energy was richer, the vision clearer, the sense of connection undeniable. It wasn’t just traveling—it was being carried, being shown, being known. Since then, I’ve invited Krishna along every time. There’s a sweetness to that companionship that deepens my journey, making even the most ordinary truck stop feel like a temple on the road.
In a way, Utah became a turning point. The landscape outside felt a little less free, but inside my practice, I discovered a freedom far greater than any open desert road.