Real gold

This summer I walked a section of the Klondike Trail in Canada’s Northwest. It is a narrow path straight through wilderness, mountain passes and rivers, as wide as a horse and wagon. The trail was cut during the Goldrush around 1896, when gold was discovered near the Klondike River in the Yukon, close to Alaska. Hundreds of thousands left America to embark on the harsh trek north, overcome by gold fever, thirst for adventure, or the desire for a better life.

There were several routes, and the Klondike Trail was one of them, across Canada. From Fort Edmonton’s last train station, it remained 3,000 kilometers north. Along this trail traveled about 1,500 men, nine women, and apparently a few children (given a child’s grave along the way) with 2,000 horses, according to recorded history. What was meant to be a two-year journey faced unprecedented conditions! Accidents, inexperience, lack of information, malnutrition, disease, exhaustion, mud and insects or cold, ice and snow took their toll on man and horse. Some attempted to turn back midway, causing disastrous two-way traffic on the narrow path. The road was littered with horse carcasses. Out of all the travelers, just 160 men reached the Klondike, and not one woman or horse did. It is ironic that when these men arrived, the Gold Rush had already ended.

What strikes me most is the lore’s silence on the intense disappointment and anger these men must have felt when they arrived. On the contrary, the survivors appeared to settle remarkably peacefully in a nearby town. They were content. It is as if the hellish trek had freed them from the outer gold rush and another gold had revealed itself. Perhaps they had discovered inner gold?

I thought of the old Zen masters who sometimes travelled under the worst conditions. Had Canada been the land of Zen, these gold diggers likely would have been purified and become true Zen masters during their trek.

Zen is free from limits of time and place. Thus, one of these men might have been named ‘Ryokan’ and written: ‘If I should die unexpectedly… But I have been spared and go on with my life, deeply saddened witness of unprecedented misery.’

Or ‘Blyth’: ‘Deep suffering is deep living… Nirvana is often seen as a state of supreme joy. But it is also the state of deep sorrow. What matters is not the joy or sorrow, but its deepest form.’

Or ‘Wallace Stevens’: ‘Amid twenty mountains of snow - was the only thing that moved - the eye of the blackbird.’*

Where do the polarities disappear? The pros and cons? Wanting to have or letting be? How could this benefit you?

I invite you to shine your light on the usefulness of non-duality with our authors. What is your finding?

*Quotations from De Vonk en de Vlam - Zen through the Ages, Han van den Boogaard, Publisher Samsara