Hampi: Boulders.

We have spent the last two weeks rising with the sun. It is cool in the early morning hours and the rocks remain unbaked until ten o’clock. After a hot cup of chai, we wander slowly through the dew-soaked rice paddy, careful with our hazy steps. The sun rises more steadily than our selves, but our chatter grows as bodies warm and begin to work again. Muscles – some stiff after a day’s rest – are stretched up and out and around. The rock and thorn-strewn path has led us to an area called Little Cave and it has been two days since I was last confronted with this challenge.

My route is in the shade now, though the unforgiving sun creeps silently closer. Time is limited in this small way and I am glad. Before long, I will put this problem to rest. First – a swig of water. Feet stuffed into sticky shoes. Hands lined with chalk. I look up at my former nemesis and squint. As my heart begins to crawl a little higher in my chest, I notice it looks a little different today. My body reads the rock and seems to recognize it. A deep breath into my belly reigns down my heart and I place my hands on the first two holds.

Exhale completely. Of the four extensions from my body, only my right hand holds solid. Left fingertips use a small seam in the stone for balance and the sticky balls of my feet utilize friction against the rock. My body has a memory of this movement and my left arm rises as I stand taller on the texture. It finds its place quickly and my fingertips fit snugly into jagged grooves. Right hand mimics left, though this one feels sharper and my time on it is less. Feet step up to the smallest of dimples and I hug strongly into the rock as my legs elevate my torso just high enough to let go of the painful right hand.

There it is – my eyes catch it first – and suddenly my arm is outstretched and my hand is securely embracing this elusive hold. Immediately, my right foot slips and my left hand barely meets its match. My heart leaps north again, but I am stronger now than last week and hold fast. Energy moves quickly into my core and I find my feet pulling up onto a beautiful little shelf. With one final extension upward, I am stepping atop this sun-soaked boulder.

Squinting in the bright morning sun, my smile is as wide as this panorama. I have never been to this particular vantage before – I have not been able to reach it. Today I understood how and my body was ready to translate. Another deep breath draws in sweet morning succulence. Behind me is a landscape littered with boulders – as if someone much greater than me is playing a wicked game of marbles. They teeter precariously upon one another as I balance lightly on this edge. Before me, the rock drops sharply down to the rice paddy we crossed some moments ago. Beyond that, a river runs, a temple towers and ruins reach out as far as I see.

This is a special place, an unforgettable moment. A personal challenge achieved through discipline and a small tap into a universal energy source. Rocks are not merely climbed here. A relationship develops between a body and a boulder – and only when the mind is removed from the equation, does this connection truly occur. Funny, I realize, a body doesn’t always need a mind to fully understand.