We enjoyed our stay in Padua, or Padova as Italians call it. The town has a rich cultural heritage. How enriching to see architectural traces that likely date to the 1200s!

St. Anthony of Padua is revered in Italy as a patron saint who championed marginalized groups. The basilica was built first as his chapel. Over the centuries, they added more chapels. The basilica is in the heart of the city, and our hotel was right next to it. After we checked in, we went straight to it.

Words can’t do justice to the basilica’s vast scale and the chapels’ luminous divine energy. The experience felt calm, healing, and peaceful.

The passageways between the chapels have walls that converge all the way to the church’s height. This structural engineering enables continuity and flow without any visually obstructing pillars or crossbars.

Each chapel in the basilica has its own inspiration and design.

The Scrovegni Chapel features fresco murals by Giotto di Bondone, painted in the early thirteenth century. They chronologically narrate the story of Mother Mary’s parents and her early life, the incarnation and early life of Christ, and the passion and resurrection. Giotto used the fresco technique—painting with watercolors on wet lime cement—and as the cement dried, the colors stayed vivid and refreshing even after 700+ years.

The streets in the historical parts of town are paved with stone. Their eclectic facades give the buildings an immersive, layered feel.

Prato della Valle is supposedly Italy’s largest square. An elliptical canal surrounds it, with a green island and a water fountain in the center. Two rings of historical statues line the canal.

We have visited Florence, historical towns in Tuscany, Milan, Rome, and Venice. Italy has so much history, art, and heritage. That said, Padua captures that quintessential Italian spirit without unnecessary touristy embellishments. We enjoyed the small-town feel, history, culture, and buzzing atmosphere.

We planned the Dolomites Alta Via 1 hike almost a year ago. As we prepared, trained, and learned more, our awe of the Alpine mountains grew. We had seen pictures and heard stories. Trekking 60+ miles in a week was a challenge, too.

We were so happy and grateful we made it. It turned out to be so much more than I could have imagined. As I looked at all the pictures and started thinking about how to capture it on the blog, the experience came alive. The memories and moments flooded in, feeling even more vivid. I let them flow and emerge. Here’s how it came back to me as I relived it while writing.

We left Treviso by bus for Cortina d’Ampezzo. As the road curved up toward the Dolomites, the rugged mountain edges on the horizon and the rolling green slopes drew me in right away. We checked into the hotel and went to the village, feeling the heartbeat of the alpine resort town.

The Winter Olympics were in Cortina not long ago, and we were so happy to see the iconic Olympic logo against the Dolomites.

The evening before the hike felt so soothing, with buildings embedded in the green valley and mountains in the distance. Sunlight refracted above the mountain peaks, adding to the intrigue.

I caught sunlight on the mountain’s tip as I looked east. That was a beautiful sneak preview of the Dolomites’ pink sunset glow.

Couldn’t wait for the next morning to go up there.

We took the bus from Cortina to Lago di Braies. The first view of the lake, with the reflection of Monti Pallidi (pale mountains), felt so soothing.

We walked a few hundred feet on the trail, and a vantage point came up between the trees where we saw the mountain’s breathtaking reflection in Lago di Braies. An exciting start to our Dolomites adventure!

The day was hot and humid, and I was drenched in sweat right at the start of the first ascent, not exactly what I’d expected in the Alps. Seeing the glowing Dolomites peak was enough to keep me going. It’s quite a story: the region was a tropical, shallow sea in the prehistoric Tethys Ocean, filled with coral reefs, shells, and algae. The collision of the tectonic plates forced the seafloor upward, creating the dynamic alpine peaks 30 to 100 million years ago. The resulting stone is a magnesium-rich calcium carbonate that glows white by day and turns pink or red at sunset—a phenomenon known as enrosadira or alpenglow.

The trail rose in a steady incline. The valley floor was green, probably thanks to all the rain. The ragged mountain peaks with sharp edges rose against the horizon. I felt immersed in nature, humbled and awed by Mother Nature’s majesty.

From a distance, trees dotting the peaks looked so tiny. Yet they stood as a testament to nature’s resilience, growing, healing, and thriving amid what looked like unforgiving rock.

After about six miles and a 2,500-foot elevation gain, we reached our first rifugio, Refugio Genova. The rifugios in the Dolomites are mountain huts, kind of guesthouses, that provide food and shelter. We had heard legends about hearty food at the rifugios, and our first experience didn’t disappoint.

Looking back as we continued our hike, the rifugio felt like such a part of the Dolomites.

As we started down toward San Vigilio, we were surprised by a stunning green valley and mountainsides. It was a stark contrast and a breathtaking shift in perspective.

We had amazing pizza at a local restaurant in San Vigilo, and sleep felt so good.

One blessing of the planned setup with Macs Adventure is that they arranged the hiking plan, trail maps, and hotels along the way. The guidelines and trail map connect all the way to hotels or bus stops on days when we had to take a bus to start or end the day. They transferred luggage, too. Sanjay, Bela M, Prasad, and all our leaders planned and coordinated meticulously, thinking through every detail. We were tucked into the alpine beauty of the Dolomites, even if it felt hot and humid.

We boarded a bus to Peduru to start our trek. It was about twelve miles to San Cassiano, with an elevation gain of about 2,600 feet, then a rather steep 3,000-foot decline.

The range of perspectives and shift in the views we saw were second to none. I gained a profound appreciation, and once again, awe for how incredibly beautiful, breathtaking, stunning, and enormous the Dolomites are. Pictures can’t do it justice, and words are wasted. Still, here it is. 🙂

As we started going up, I stopped a gazillion times to look around and soak in the moments through all my senses.

At one point, after a mile or so in, I looked back at the trail and the peaks behind me. The trail showed a white path among the mountains, and the scale and majesty of what surrounded us “grabbed” me.

The core of the Dolomites probably spans close to sixty miles east to west and north to south. We were now in the heart of it, and perspectives shifted literally after every hill or curve.

We took a refreshing break and a quick bite at Refugio Fanes, our next one. Boy, rifugios are such a neat concept- the people serving there are super friendly and helpful. They prepare fresh meals right up there in the huts.

I learned Fanes is the name of the plateau we walked for probably the next 3-4 miles. It’s an expansive space with a lake and streams. Hills line the horizon on both sides of the trail. As our trail wound through it all, the splendor and imposing, yet rejuvenating presence of the mountains yanked me totally into the moment.

We ran into cows with bells several times, as it’s an expansive plateau with green plains.

As on the previous day and on other hiking days, we saw green valleys as we descended. Green in nature has that nourishing, healing, and nurturing vibe for me. It felt good.

The trek downhill to St Cassian was very steep, probably the steepest I’ve been on. Thankfully, they have “giant stairs” breaking the decline into manageable segments.

As we wrapped up the day’s hike, there was a spot to see the peaks we’d scaled earlier. What a day, and what an incredible experience! I could go for several more miles.

It rained that night, as the forecast predicted. Little did I realize then it would unlock another magical side of the Dolomites over the next two days.

We took the bus back to San Cassiano, then took a cable car to the Piz Sorega Plateau.

It was drizzling when we reached the top, and the air felt slightly chilly, a welcome change from the first two days. Thick fog covered most of the green plateau floor and the mountain peaks as I looked around.

The fog cleared pretty soon, revealing the stunning beauty of the mountain ranges on both sides. A valley lay on one side, with peaks in the distance. As the clouds moved through, we saw the Dolomites’ splendor change every minute. That’s what I pictured when I thought of the Dolomites. While I certainly wasn’t complaining about the first two days, it felt like the Alps were finally living up to the anticipation and expectation.

At one point, there was a nice, gentle green slope. Sanjay said he always wanted to roll, and it looked like a great chance to do it. We all did – rolled and frolicked on the grassy slope. We were in our elements, totally in vacation mode.

We reached Pralongia Mountain Hut. The mountain backdrop and totally serene ambiance felt so nurturing and healing. A small house sat by a pond, with mountain goats nearby.

While the refugios on the first two days were good, this one felt like the heart of nature, almost like a movie scene. The food there was awesome, with a restaurant-style menu. One of their servers came over and started talking to us in Hindi. Ganesh is from Rajasthan and is working there. They prepared soup, pasta, pizza, and a range of other food items with heart. It was one of the best minerstone soups I have ever had. We saw chutney paired with cheese on one of their menu items, and we liked that pairing. 🙂

The trek after that was mostly downhill, about 2,000 feet. The hotel for the day was also in San Cassiano, and when we arrived, we had about seven miles of mostly downhill walking.

We had the day marked for Ortisei and Seceda – more of a sightseeing excursion than hiking. We hired a bus to Ortisei, then took the gondola to Seceda peak. It’s probably 8,000+ feet high.

The weather at the peak was cold. We were all layered up to stay warm. It was overcast, and clouds and fog covered all sides of the peak in the morning. It was white all around us. The peaks in the distance might occasionally poke their tips above the white.

The dramatic ridgeline has jagged cliffs on one side and smoothly tapering green slopes and alpine meadows on the other. The moving clouds created quite a spectacle as we watched it. The contrast between the two sides probably stems from different tectonic plates when the whole area was underwater 200+ million years ago, and from softer rock giving way to millions of years of ice, melting water, and freeze-thaw cycles.

Thick clouds and fog behind the sharp, falling cliffs made me wonder for a second whether it was just floating.

Walkways and trails all around let you see and experience Seceda Peak from different angles. There are hiking trails there. The thought crossed my mind: what if we did more hiking there from one of the villages down there? Sounded exciting, but then my body reminded me to enjoy the break from hiking, too.

We took the chairlift down to Fermeda. We lucked out with a clear view of the ridgeline on the way down.

We had lunch at the rifugio in Fermeda – the ambiance there gave me picnic-type vibes. The food was good. We were getting used to it and started expecting it at the rifugios.

We had a few hours in Ortisei, and we went to the UNIKA Art Fair featuring local art from sculptors, painters, photographers, and woodturners. They had organized the art fair inside a tennis center. Inside the big open space, we saw a very different way to present art, and, in some ways, a different type of art, too. It was a fun change of pace.

When I checked my phone at night, I had walked 9+ miles that day. It’s wild how much walking adds up when we are outside, even if we’re not on hiking trails.

The next day’s hike would have 4,000+ feet of elevation gain. Sleep well.

We took a bus to Sciere and started the trail to Rifugio Lagazuoi at about 9,000 ft. elevation.

It was an overcast morning, and that was a blessing for the rigorous hike. The fog veiled the valley and mountainsides, creating fascinating effects as I looked around.

The incline was steep, probably the steepest I’ve ever hiked. The trail took us straight up, and hills stretched in every direction ahead. We saw water streaming down, and it felt healing in the otherwise calm ambiance.

When I paused and focused directly on the creek, it stilled my mind.

I looked back and saw the crisp green valley floor. I zoomed in on my phone camera and saw the trails “chiseled” into the valley floor.

Bela and I reached the top of the first crazy-steep incline. The trail curved a bit, and what opened up completely shocked and overwhelmed me. It saturated every sense. The floor was white or bright yellowish-orange, with eclectic hues; clouds above framed the view, and the mountains on both sides showed an incredible range of colors. Did we hike to another planet? We were in a fantasy land, making memories of a lifetime. As clouds moved, spots opened in the sky, and light fell on just one small segment of the mountains.

As we continued, small “windows” opened, offering glimpses of dark green or dark brown. We were in the middle of a breathtaking movie playing all around us.

While enjoying “the movie,” we reached a spot where I looked left, and suddenly the green valley and mountains appeared. Welcome back to Mother Earth!

As we got closer to the top, we had a beautiful glimpse of the valley.

We reached Rifugio Lagazuoi at the top. Bela and I had a long, warm hug. What we just experienced was beyond words, beyond my intellect, way above the league for my thinking mind.

I looked back at the side we came from and caught one more glimpse of the “other world.” Jay, Ami, Milind, Swati, Bela, and I sat at the lunch table talking about it. For me, it was still all sinking in.

The views from the top were nice, too.

My phone showed an elevation gain of 4,350 feet for the day. As we took the gondola down, I captured final glimpses of the mountain on the other side. We could see the village.

 

Thinking about it now, if someone asked me what my number one thing from the Dolomites hiking trip was, this would be it. The experience renewed my respect for Mother Nature’s abundance and majesty. I surrender my mind, body, and intellect to the universe. I am part of the interconnected whole, far beyond the life I know. I felt connected and healed by it all.

 

We took a taxi to reach Alleghe in the afternoon. There is a beautiful lake. We took group pictures in our matching Prana T-shirts. The village of Alleghe is nice, too, one of many we saw or drove by during the week. The entire Dolomites area is set up for winter skiing and summer hiking. Villages, gondolas, chairlifts, and cable cars are everywhere.

It was our chill-out day. We hiked to a waterfall and around Lake Alleghe. It helped us decompress a little. The houses, hotels, and buildings in the villages in the Dolomites have cute backyards with flower pots hanging from the galleries and windows. Innovative, attractive art pieces are everywhere. Today we got the chance to slow down and enjoy it.

I caught a glimpse of the mountain right outside the hotel. Our last hike the next day would be up there.

We took the cable car from Alleghe to Col dei Baldi, and then started on the trail towards Rifugio Coldai. The trail was rocky, with valley views as we hiked up.

After a quick refresher at the rifugio, we hiked to Lago Coldai. Monte Civetta is the prominent mountain directly overlooking the lake and reflected in its waters. Monte Civetta’s peak is about 10,500 feet, and the lake sits at 7,000 feet. It’s quite imposing to see the mountain from a distance, towering above the lake.

We walked along the far side of the mountainside, circling the lake, and saw the Alleghe village and lake.

We returned on the same trail and got a different perspective with a peak in the distance.

One more quick glimpse of the Olympic sign and Monte Pallidi the next morning, and then headed to Venice.

Santiago Oaks has a series of hills that add nuance and depth early in the morning, as the sun rises. The hills are still green this time of the year. While brown-colored hills have their own charm, I am certainly enjoying the shades of green while they last.

There is a trail close to home, Weir Canyon Loop, a little under four miles long. It’s easy access for us, close to home, and a go-to trail for a quick hike. I went there twice last weekend – on Saturday and Sunday. The contrast between the early-morning fog on Saturday and the total clarity on Sunday brought an intriguing shift and a sense of newness for me.

There is a spot where we always stop to soak in the view of a water reservoir with the feel of a small lake. There are houses all around, and on a clear day, we can see the cities of Anaheim, Irvine, Newport Beach, and, to the north and west, Los Angeles. Fog covered it all, and from our higher vantage point, I felt, for a moment, I was looking at a cloud.

Hill sides are slowly turning brown. It is an amazing mix of colors. We took a slight detour to get to the top of a hill. There is a spot with valleys all around. It was quite a treat to get another flavor from the same area of the trail.

We started hiking to Ontario Peak in Mount Baldy Cucamonga Wilderness around 7 am. The starting elevation was about 5000 feet. The air was clean and crisp. The mountains in all directions, trees, a blue sky with scattered clouds, stunning landscapes with valleys and hills, and the fragrance of trees took us right to the heart of nature.

The surprise for me was the sound of water with its thunderous and yet healing music. It is Ice House Canyon Creek streaming water down the mountain and splashing and swirling around the rocks. For the first mile while hiking up a steady incline, we had plenty of opportunities to capture water flowing, falling, rocking, and in some places playing around our feet. We stopped at every curve, edge, and angle to soak it all in. As always, I enjoy capturing water’s thunder, music, and resonant sounds in videos. Can’t have enough of it. 🙂

Spontaneity has its splash. 🙂

The trail curled to the left and up at one point, taking us slightly away and above the flowing water.

The water from the heights finds its way from every possible angle. Small streams come down and merge. There are spots where water crossed our path. I was totally in my element.

I hiked probably for a few hundred feet, and the trail took me right next to the thunder of a strong gush.

It’s a continuous incline, and as we gained elevation, it was quite a treat to see the evolving landscape and expanding views.

Certainly a different experience from trails closer to home. Then again, Mount Baldy is only 50 miles away – maybe we do it more and more often. The day helped us dissolve the stress, heal & energize, and be one with Mother Nature.

Morning was brisk at Balboa Beach. Sunlight filtered through scattered clouds. Wispy clouds stretched across the blue canvas of sky, creating a striking blend of color when I looked up. The water reflected these hues. As waves neared shore, silver highlighted their crests. A gentle breeze brushed my face, drifted through my shirt, and cooled my skin. The crash of waves was resonant. As the waves broke, cold Pacific water swirled around my feet, uniting me with Earth and sea. I was wholly immersed in nature. I felt merged and one with it all.

The moments healed, nurtured, and energized me.

We reached Laguna Beach around 3:30 pm. The sun’s reflection created countless mirrors that crashed and danced on the sea. I gazed at the ocean, and it felt so soothing.

The experience saturated all my senses, making me feel inseparable from the sky, air, sun, water, and earth.

The morning was crisp. The ocean reflected deep blue of the clear sky. Sunlight brightened the horizon and edges of the water on the east side.

My ego can lead to self-centered thinking, isolating me in the cocoon of my thinking patterns and a false sense of security that depends on the need to control external conditions. Fear and the need to preserve and maintain a separate identity fuel it. It can disconnect me from the flow of the Universe, which is much larger, timeless, and rich with boundless potential. Surrendering and opening up to the universal consciousness can enrich me with the abundance and healing – it can open up potential, possibilities, and a profound sense of connectedness.

Albert Einstein:

A human being is part of a whole, called by us the Universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts, and feelings as something separated from the rest — a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. Nobody can achieve this completely, but striving for it is, in itself, part of liberation and a foundation for inner security.

I am an integral part of the Universe – an interconnected node in the vast web of relationships. I am a link through which the Universe evolves and expresses its consciousness. All phenomena, including us, are the products of infinite causes and conditions. There is nothing separate or independent. Everyone and everything around me touches me. They shape me, and in turn I am shaping them – that is both knowingly and unknowingly. The awareness and acknowledgement of interdependence nudge me to surrender my mind, ego, to merge and be one with all – a kind of unfoldment of my mind, body, and intellect to be part of the collective whole.

Surrendering opens my mind like the sky – it creates space and expands horizons, offering answers to questions and insights to grow and develop. The spacious awareness can let the weather of thoughts and emotions pass through, enabling healing from within.

All compounded phenomena disintegrate. That includes us. Nothing is permanent. Everything is in a continuous process of arising and dissolving. There is nothing I can hold on to. I let go of resistance to the change. Grasping for permanence – I don’t like surprises – I cling to the past and don’t let go – I create plots of mental drama disconnected from reality. If I am not aware, the thoughts can get stronger, and the drama can become even more intense over time. Accepting the impermanence makes it easier for me to surrender to the Universe evolving through me – to the life living through me.

Following clear and singular views can simplify navigating life. However, I am not the discrete, independent “self” – it’s an ever-evolving landscape where mind, body, and experiences constantly change, shaped by a multitude of conditions and internal causes. So, being open and vulnerable to new ideas can help me revise the maps of what actual reality is.

I surrender to the universal consciousness. I surrender to the divinity. I pray to the gods, archangels, and gurus, as they symbolize and embody that divine energy. I pray with trust, faith, and surrender – with ભક્તિભાવ. I invoke or invite healing, peace, blessings, and all good things to help me clarify my mind.

> Clarify My Mind: 1 of 12: Wonder and Lightness of a Beginner

> Clarify My Mind: 2 of 12: Be a Witness and not a Judge, Be Always Aware

> Clarify My Mind: 3 of 12: Accept, Allow, Let It Be

> Clarify My Mind: 4 of 12: Let Go

> Clarify My Mind: 5 of 12: Trust or Faith or Belief

> Clarify My Mind: 6 of 12: Patience

> Clarify My Mind: 7 of 12: Generosity – Give

> Clarify My Mind: 8 of 12: Leading with the Inner Compass

> Clarify My Mind: 9 of 12: Gratitude

> Clarify My Mind: 10 of 12: Equanimity

> Clarify My Mind: 11 of 12: Empathy, Compassion, and Forgiveness

> Clarify My Mind: 12 of 12: Surrender

We made a trip to the New England area. It’s fall time. The leaves on trees turn from green to yellow, orange, red, and every hue in between. It was quite a treat to see breathtaking colors in all directions in Maine and New Hampshire. The trees accentuate the landscape along the roadsides, on the mountains, in the thick vegetation along the rivers, and in the backdrop of the ocean.

It’s the narrative of Mother Nature and the trees accepting and adapting to the impending colder weather, and, in so many ways, figuring out how to survive and eventually thrive again in the spring. It felt like the harmony of the trees, wearing and shedding colors, expressed through stunning landscapes. While seeing and experiencing it all, the soothing, healing, and rejuvenating aura of Mother Nature dissolved dense energies in my mind, body, and intellect. It nudged me to be part of and in resonance with Mother Nature’s collective consciousness.

Can I be just like the trees – accept, allow, and simply be with the universe evolving and expressing through me? Can I keep my mind open like a sky full of awareness for new ideas and imagination? Can I be with the stillness where intuition, voice & channel from my subconscious, and peaceful heart can be my guiding light?

I feel so humbled, blessed, and grateful to see the splendor and majesty of Mother Nature.

We planned our trip a couple of months ago – there were several contingencies to coordinate between our schedules and make it happen. As we got closer, we realized Mother Nature was ahead of schedule this year, and foliage peaked 10-14 days earlier than the norm.

Acadia National Park and the Kancamagus Highway in New Hampshire, and areas on the north side in New England, had the foliage past its peak. We kept the plan as is, and I am happy we did. The colors were still there, and the overall fun of being there close to nature made all the difference we needed and some.

The following are videos from my phone of the spots along the 30-or-so-mile-long driving loop at Acadia National Park.

We drove back to Boston, spent a day there, and then flew to New York. My “eye” for the foliage saw it in the cities. We went to Central Park in NYC on Sunday afternoon, and seeing the lake and trees juxtaposed with buildings somehow carried it “home” for me.

I hope, wish, and pray that the magic of Mother Nature and the moments of stillness from the trip carry through and help me see and express colors while back in the routine.

Our office in NYC is in the World Trade Center. The fall foliage caught my eye from there, too. 🙂

The waves crashing against the shoreline created a fantastic white color. With the strong tide, the waves splashed around the stones. It looked playful and evoked a childlike sense of wonder.

I looked towards the west, and the water’s surface appeared to be dancing with the waves. The reflection of the sun’s rays mesmerized me when I gazed at it. I felt like those waves playing along with the life living through me. The moments melted dense energy inside me, and I surrendered to the flow of life. I felt light and vulnerable like the waves as they danced and reached the shoreline.

There is a nook where waves approach in a circular arch. There is probably a large rock underwater, a little bit away from the land, where waves start the circles. I saw ripples emerge, spread, and overwhelm the beach with incredible white. The palm trees and plants add to the visual dynamic. I gazed from a height, and felt a perfect harmony where everything came together – the sea, the land, the boulders close to the beach, and the waves accentuating them all with their white color and the music of them crashing and playing around.

We went down the steps to get closer to the sea. The waves crashed against the last few steps and the nearby boulders. The sound and milky white foam of the waves connected me to the child I am deep down inside. I soaked it through all my senses and let it flow through me.

It’s always fun going to the sand and dipping my feet in the water. Today, the water glowed with the reflection of sunlight reaching through and around the scattered clouds. The countless mirrors were dancing on the surface of the giant cauldron of the Pacific Ocean. As the waves crashed on the beach, shiny silver turned into bright white. I felt one with the earth, the water, the fire of the sun, the air, and the sky.

There is an area where rock forms a platform about 3-4 feet tall. Strong waves splashed against it, swamping the water over it. The cold refreshing water covered my feet: it felt so refreshing and energizing. The waves left behind a thin film of water on the rock, which reflected the sun’s rays, creating a vibrant glow. It felt as if Mother Nature brought its abundance to me in a shiny platter.

Mother Nature creates an eclectic range of colors and moods across the Pacific Ocean’s landscape. Water wears the colors of the ambiance. I am capturing in the blog a couple of flavors: an early morning at Newport Beach a few weeks ago with a thick marine layer, and a sunny and crisp July 4th afternoon at Salt Creek Beach.

Different flavors, yet each dissolved my mind and body, making me one with it all.

The sun had yet to burn off the marine layer. There were clouds in the sky, fog in the air, and soothing grey on the sea as I gazed at it as far as my eyes would take me. The sea and clouds appeared to converge on the horizon.

The ocean drained charges from my body. The cold and refreshing energy rose through my feet and dissolved the dense energy. The water inside me connected and resonated with the sea.

As the sun rose from the east, the silver line around the clouds felt magical. The wide-angle captured an abundance of the sea, the Balboa Pier, the land, and its hilly terrain, with trees accentuating the view.

The tides were strong. The day was crisp and clear. The sea sparkled in the reflection of the sun’s rays. The temperature was around 80. The breeze felt so pleasant on my skin. The sounds and white of the crashing waves felt so vibrant.

The cosmic energy of the universe, light, and love soaked into me. It opened my mind like the sky above. The healing energy of the earth and sea rose through my feet. I felt radiant, full of light and love. The experience awakened my heart.

Each flavor healed and balanced my five elements – the earth, the water, the fire, the air, and the ether. The moments inspired in me the vibes of oneness: the world is one interconnected whole – I am part of it. The universe flows and evolves through me.