A Desert Sound Bath
It was Sunday morning in Joshua Tree. The sound bath practitioner told my sister to meet her at a designated liquor store at 8am. We would then follow her to the meditation location. Since we were the first to arrive, I drove back to capture a cool tree carving we passed before the stop sign.
Leyah the practitioner arrived at full speed at 8:05am in her Nissan Rogue, much like Princess Peach in Mario Kart. She fit the typical image of a hippie yogi: sunburnt skin, dirty blonde hair with a lilac turban, grey midriff tank, and low-rise silk pants in a blue flower pattern that flowed with the breeze. She approached a vehicle that had appeared in the five minutes we were gone. Then she walked towards us, calling us “sisters” as she complimented my sister’s mane. She explained she was waiting for one more party before we followed her because Google Maps did not know how to arrive to the retreat destination.
While I had her attention, I asked if it was okay if I fell asleep during the sound bath. I tended to knock out during Shavasana at the end of my yoga practices and that was my way of apologizing ahead of time for an occurrence I anticipated, especially after having woken up so early on a Sunday, the day of rest. She said I was opening my third eye every time I fell asleep during Savasana (different pronunciation, same practice). I looked at her confused, unknowledgeable of the information she was giving me. Noticing my ignorance, she proceeded with a short For Dummies explanation which I further looked into. According to the my.cleavelandclinic.org website, “The third eye is synonymous with the pineal gland which is located deep in the center of the brain and helps regulate light via the circadian rhythm and melatonin secretion.” In Layman’s terms, “the third eye serves as a connection between the physical and spiritual worlds.” Woah.
I was unsure if I should consider the dream I had that night of me flying over Joshua Tree a “spiritual world.” My sister had identified it as a lucid dream, one in which a person is hyperaware that they’re dreaming. But I would not describe it as such since I was only aware of my lack of control over my flying activity. Upon further research I found in the Healthline website, though, “The third eye acts as a doorway for spiritual communication that may include clairvoyance and lucid dreaming.” Shut the front door!
Just twelve hours before, I had bought a moonstone ring from a woman I had perceived as clairvoyant — she knew that I thought my moonstone at home would be jealous if I brought back a new addition. Paired with my sister’s pinpointing of my lucid dream, I didn’t know if being privy to this mystical jargon was simply a coincidence or if I had finally found myself in the spiritual enlightenment I’d been searching for since 2017 when I traveled to Peru. It was a perplexing revelation to have right before a sound bath.
The third party Leyah had been waiting for arrived and the three vehicles trailed the Nissan Rogue from a paved highway onto an unmarked gravel road. Even though my car has off-roading capabilities, I complained to my sister and friend that the online booking for this event should have had a warning since I like to mentally prepare for these things. After a minute or two of driving on a bumpy, dirt path we saw a blue house on the right behind some Joshua trees. I passed the sound bath installation to my left — seven mats raised on wooden pallets with a gong and singing bowls facing the sunrise — as I made my way to the designated parking slots. I left my phone, camera, and wallet in the car with the purpose of becoming one with nature. With my moonstone on my finger, I led the pack to the meditation.
Leyah instructed us to remove our shoes and choose a mat. I headed for the first one in the front row on the left; I tend to sit at the front of any class because I don’t like to see people and I am less distracted that way. She introduced herself and briefly described the layout of the practice. We started by rubbing oil in our hands, taking in the scent with a deep breath, and rubbing the excess wherever we wanted on our bodies. Then we had to stand in a brass bowl that she had brought back from Tibet. She shared that her friend, a monk, had made it especially for her. We were to stand in it and recite our intention for the day’s practice out loud or silently to ourselves. I wanted to kill Jackie at that moment. I hated speaking in front of people. But I pushed those emotions aside and focused on being present. I tried to draft an eloquent intention in my head because I wanted to be brave and vocalize it aloud but I couldn’t form a single comprehensive sentence, much less a complete thought.
Leyah was the first one in the bowl. She stepped inside, faced her audience, and closed her eyes. She modeled her intention audibly, then banged the gong behind her, and finished with more banging on the Tibetan bowl. We sat around quietly, nervously, wondering which one of us would dare to get up first. The last girl to meet us at the liquor store was our savior. It was her second time doing the sound bath with Leyah so she was guided by past experience. I feel confident saying that we were all grateful for her.
Some folks recited their intentions facing the sun, away from us. When I stepped into the bowl, I faced the other participants and placed one hand over my heart and another on my belly, just as I had learned from my yoga practice. I silently wished to continue to be enlightened that weekend and hoped Leyah’s energy would embody me too.
After everyone had a turn stating their intentions, we laid on the frameless cots. Each one was outlined with medium-sized crystals which Leyah said we could remove or place on our bodies. I grabbed the two within reach and placed one below my bellybutton and another above, holding them in place with my hands.
Leyah then proceeded to play the dozen singing bowls, gong, drums, and meditation music for the next hour. Sometimes the audio included humming, chants, and singing. At one point Leyah sang live. When I realized I wasn’t anywhere near dozing, I took on a three-part breathing exercise I had learned in my yoga classes: breathing in halfway through my mouth, taking in another breath through my nose, and exhaling. That was usually the breathing pattern that put me to sleep. But I never came close to the REM stage that morning. I did, however, see colored patterns that kept cycling through. The first hue I saw was a deep red. It lingered so long that I thought that meant I was entering hell. Eventually it turned into a deep purple followed by a blue that got brighter and brighter. The colors kept repeating in that same order for a bit. Towards the end of the practice, Leyah banged drums and made bowls sing over our individual heads. She also held something in her hands that reflected the sunlight against my closed eyelids but I couldn’t tell if that was done on purpose or not.
At some points, I got bored and hoped the practice would finish simply because I wasn’t entranced; my mind was wandering as it usually did in the shower. At others, I didn’t want it to end, hoping to find my own clairvoyance where I’d see a happy future as if looking into a crystal ball. The sounds eventually did subside and Leyah served us tea. While we sipped under the scorching sun, she asked if we had seen colors during our meditation. Red, white, and blue were thrown out and she began describing their meanings. According to the chakra colors, red is our root or foundation that deals with our needs and security. White is the chakra looking for a spiritual connection. I got the chance to tell her about the bright blue that kept cycling through during my meditation. That is the throat chakra, the one in charge of us being able to speak up and express ourselves, an aspect of myself I am constantly working on developing. She asked me if everything had a blue tint to it when I opened my eyes. When I told her yes, her entire expression changed. She excitedly told me I had entered the fifth dimension and that I was only the second person she knew who had reached that space. She threw the terms third eye, pineal gland, and indigo ray at me and I regretted not having my phone on me to take notes on. She asked if she could give me a hug and I eagerly accepted. My love language is not physical touch but I went into it with every intention of holding her tiny frame in the tightest embrace I could manage, hoping her positive disposition would transfer onto me through osmosis.
The meditation ended soon after my interaction with Leyah. My party was the last one to put our shoes on. She said, mostly to my sister and friend, that if we wanted to find our third eye, we should gaze at a fixed spot in a sun-kissed blue sky for five minutes. Once we saw white specks, that would signify the gateway into the third eye. Healthline.com confirmed her advice by stating that sun gazing “boost[s] your pineal gland,” the ‘Seat of the Soul,’ according to the National Library of Medicine website. Apparently staring into a sunny sky with closed eyes will get you to the fifth dimension too.
I had experienced so many spiritual coincidences in less than twelve hours; it was too much information for me to grasp and understand. So later in day, I learned from Healthline.com that meditation, chanting, and crystals — who some believe to have healing energies—stimulate the pineal gland and open the third eye. “The third eye chakra is sometimes referred to as our sixth sense and…can lead to an increase in perceptive, intuitive, and spiritual abilities.” I had begun to experience variations of these out-of-body experiences starting with my lucid flying dream and then during the sound bath when the chakra colors appeared. None of it was a coincidence. The moonstone, sound bath, crystals, and sun had worked together to take me to a realm that didn’t include deadlines, alarm clocks, or even people, for that matter. My spiritual adventures had taken me to the quieter remote place my soul needed for a very long time. During my dream and meditation, I finally had the chance to breathe calmly and be still. I got be be an observant of nature and its colorful palette. And I surrendered control to my third eye.
I felt the lightest I possibly ever had. Light and happy. I was home :)
