blog Post 6, The Darkness

Rolling mountain ridges paint blues and purples onto the far, distant late afternoon horizon. The forests, shades of green and greige, hide ancient rock formations that give birth to freshwater springs. Generations of flora and fauna thrive in this, their home. It’s easy, for me, to feel the presence of spirit here. But, in these mountains there is one place where a river flows, even on a brightly sunlit day, into total pitch-black darkness.

South of Castleberry Bridge Road in Dawsonville, GA, the Etowah River retains the same wild, natural beauty as it does when flowing from the higher elevations just a few miles north. If you're paddling this section of the river, it's likely with a particular goal in mind: you're contemplating trusting the river's flow to guide your vessel through over a quarter mile of pitch-black darkness and then bringing you back to the safety of your senses. When I say "contemplating," there is an option to opt out. Some people have unknowingly opted out by missing the entrance, only to realize the mistake after rounding a horseshoe bend downriver and seeing the tunnel exit.

It's no surprise that The Tunnel of Terror has become the favored name among paddlers. This tunnel, reportedly carved and blasted through solid rock in the 1850s, was intended to redirect the river's flow to facilitate gold mining further downstream. Today, nature has reclaimed it, as it has with many other human-made structures from the past.

I grounded the nose of my whitewater kayak about 50 feet from the entrance to the opening to get ready. My main goal was to calm my mind. I needed to reflect on the upcoming unknown and try to exert as much intellectual control over it as I could. My headlamp hung loosely around my neck, ready to be used. My friend, Kirk, had also banked his kayak further upriver and got out to wade along the shore towards the tunnel. Since the bank was steep and the bow of my boat blocked Kirk's path, I pushed back slightly to let him pass. Without my input, the tunnel and the river suddenly decided that my launch was an immediate GO.

Evidently, the Universe, like the river, had a playful spirit that day. It recognized it had a soul to engage with. Just a slight push from the strong current was enough to pull me stern first toward the tunnel. I had mere seconds to decide between turning on my headlamp or maneuvering my eleven-foot-long “Green Boat” around before being drawn into the darkness of the seven-foot-wide abyss. Which option did I take? In some ways, it might have made for a more thrilling tale to describe watching the lit tunnel vanish behind me as I shot backwards through it. However, knowing there was a reported two-to-three-foot drop somewhere in the middle, I felt more at ease entering bow first into the complete darkness, so I opted for the latter. I barely managed to turn around. No light, but I could see a small spot of illumination in the far distance. That would have to suffice.

Uncertain of the walls' location, I kept my paddle aligned with the boat. The roar of whitewater was intensely loud. I concentrated on the gradually expanding sphere of white light. Suddenly, the boat dropped. I made it! Moments later, BOOM! Cold water engulfed me. I found myself upside down beneath the torrent rushing through the tunnel. Quickly, I removed my spray skirt from the cockpit rim and slid my legs out to escape what had become the underside of my kayak. With some effort, I pulled myself up onto the new topside of my submerged craft. In the distance, I saw my paddle glinting as it sped away. Uh oh. How far back was Kirk? He didn’t have a headlamp.

My feet reached the bottom, but I saw no benefit in slowing down, so I let them trail behind. Could I exit the tunnel before Kirk? No. The abruptness of a boat being paddled onto your back is something you won't encounter in the dark safety of a Sensory Deprivation Tank. His kayak pushed both me and my flotation deeper into the water. "Kirk," I shouted, "You're on my back. I flipped. Go around!" He managed to get past.

As I emerged, Kirk was by the exit, holding my paddle. Nice. His kayak, designed with less rocker underneath, tracked well and was clearly more suitable for navigating that artificial darkness. Well done. What spiritual insight can I gain from this experience, and what lesson did I learn?

Spiritual awareness and maintaining the flow come more naturally to me in the natural environment, but in man-made settings, such as tunnels or cities, adjustments are needed to make subconscious connections just as accessible. In France, communication is smoother if you speak French. Although I describe how the Universe communicates with me in the mountains, it can speak just as clearly in any part of the world, whether urban or not. If I become a city dweller again someday, I will still be guided by the All, in different ways. My point is that it's all within you. Let your heart be the guide that teaches you how to communicate with it. For some, the connection might be through music, other arts, sports, or an endless array of possibilities. After all, the heart is a creative communicator.

The tunnel experience mentioned above offers as many spiritual messages and lessons as there are individuals to interpret them. If it happens to be beneficial to you at this moment in your life, consider this: you might feel that you are turned upside down, submerged in darkness. Remember that your most precious wisdom resides in your heart. Your heart understands that the flow will lead you to the light. In contrast, your brain, your intellect, may only provide fear, negativity, and depression, draining energy from your heart's strength. It's difficult to see the light in those dark circumstances. Trust your heart.

During this experience, I had a unique spiritual vision that affirmed our true essence exists beyond our physical bodies. While submerged upside down in the dark, cold water, I clearly saw myself leaving the overturned kayak from about 20 feet away. Both the kayak and I appeared light green and translucent, similar to an x-ray. This wasn't my first out-of-body experience, but it was distinct and happened while I was awake, not dreaming. It's comforting to know that when we use heart intelligence, extrasensory perceptions are available to us. Perhaps one day, people will paddle this river to experience the ALL within the Tunnel of the Heart. A tip: we all hit walls. Let your heart be the light.