Greetings,
For years, The
Integratron, a one of
a kind structure, has been a best kept secret from the
masses. That is, until two nights ago, when Huell Howser
went to The
Integratron and told all of us, his viewing audience, about it on his
show,
California
Gold.
When I am overly attentive to
this "reality," I can be just plain obtuse to inner
promptings. There are no accidents, only intended events that
I don't
always understand or grasp at the time that they occur.
Once in awhile, out of the blue, I'm
gifted with crystal clarity, however fleeting. This time, the convergence of
events was obvious; the design, transparently clear.
I was feeling a strong pull. The synchrony of watching of Huell's show, the proximity of Landers to
us (see
map),
my attraction and connection to rocks, and the stuck images in my
mind's eye of Giant Rock and
Huell in the sky
chair, experiencing a sound bath, was not lost on
me.
Imagine that -- being bathed with
crystalline sounds! Well, it was time to put some reality to
that imagining, and I was having a DIN (Do It Now!) moment.
I checked out The
Integratron's website. The following description was
irresistible:
"Sound is heard and consumed through every pore in our bodies, not just with our ears. Its influence can quicken the rhythm of blood
circulation, awakening and arousing to greater passions, or calm and soothe the nervous system by bringing peace. Sound becomes
visible in the form of radiance, absorbed by the physical body... [Sound] recuperates and charges [the body] with new magnetism."
~ Hazrat Inayat Khan
The Integratron was built specifically to recharge energy into living cell structure for the purpose of rejuvenation. The Integratron is a
multiple-wave sound chamber. The sound bath uses quartz crystal bowls and recorded music to produce a quantum music sound bath.
The overall effect on the body is like a deep massage on the atomic and molecular levels. It produces waves of deep peace and relaxation
that restore the body and refresh the soul.
Re-attune, de-stress and rejuvenate through sound."
For those coming
from Los Angeles,
getting to the Integratron requires an investment in time and mileage.
Located on
the high desert -- The Mojave -- in the town of Landers,
with a population of 1500. Already in the hinterlands, for
us, it
is just an hour's drive away. The Integratron is open
for tours on the first three Sundays of the month. Perfect.
It's off the beaten track, and therein lay its particular charm. By midmorning,
we were on yet another road less travelled. [See
yesterday's entry]
To get to The Integratron,
you do
not pass verdant hills, verdant anything. Born and raised on
the windward side of Hawai`i, we were surrounded by tropical
lushness. Here in California, in the 'burbs, our idea of the
outdoors is manicured, green lawns with suburban landscaping at
the fringes; in the mountains, we live among tall pine trees.
The desert is foreign
to us, and for the first half hour, its opulent barrenness was
jarring, if not downright jolting:
Sand. Sand. And more
sand.
The occasional tumbleweed. Dry washes. Sparse
vegetation. A barren, moon-like terrain.
"There are none so blind
as those who will not see,
nor none so deaf
as those who will not hear."
The passing miles
allowed me to passively absorb the desert views, and I accommodated it into
my reality. An hour later, on Old Woman Springs Road, I
began seeing the desert without judgment, without filters.
The desert has NO clutter.
It is starkly beautiful, with open spaces, occasionally punctuated by
Joshua trees below a cloudless blue
sky. In two words, the
desert is: Simply Zen.
Its location out in
the openness of the Mojave Desert is what makes
this unexpected tourist attraction unique -- and, I'm to
discover, quite special:
Click here for
details:
The
Integratron Website
We missed the turnout road to
The Integratron on the first pass, turned around, and backtracked
to Linn Road (see
map). As we drove up the hardtop road to Belfield Road, there it
was.
The Integratron is nothing you'd
ever expect to see in the middle of nowhere, or anywhere, for that
matter. Actually, that it exists is mind-boggling. A mere 38 feet high and 50 feet
across, this remarkable white-domed structure is not huge
like the Capitol's Rotunda, the Duomo, or St. Peter's Basilica, but it's not exactly
wee, either. Off Linn and just on to Belfiend, The Integratron is announced with a
sweet, discreet sign: Tours $5, Sound Baths $5.
I was reminded of Don
Shimoda's $3 biplane flights in Richard Bach's book, Illusions.
We were warmly greeted
by a spritely couple, full of good spirits, even as they were hard at work. We later learn that they are a
Net-based
business couple, who fell in love with The
Integratron; its owners, who they met a few months ago; and now
the desert itself. As volunteers, they were manning the ticket
desk and the information stand. Their enthusiasm for The
Integratron was unrestrained, and their joyfulness was palpable
and contagious.
We then met Jim,
a well-read, knowledgeable fellow visitor and as we were to learn,
a writer. And we became a group of three, well, five with
our two furkids. Unfortunately, the day before, a retreat group had a dog
that had rudely pee'd in The Integratron, and so our well-behaved,
very
house-broken dogs, O
and Freddy, were left tied outside to the entry door's
handle.
The two docents are The
Karl Sisters, also the owners
of The Integratron and the ten acre property it sits on. A day later, as I write this, I find my
mind's eye images of them alternate
between the women I met and two flowers blooming in the
desert.
I digress for a
moment: There is nothing as wonderfully striking as seeing a
desert in bloom. Years ago, our buds, Chris and Peg,
gifted us to a spring day in the desert at Joshua
Tree National Park. We saw for ourselves how the winter
rains come and go, but in the springtime, the desert floor is transformed and literally blanketed with
startlingly bright,
gorgeous blooms, gifts of the life-giving rains.
Someone Upstairs has
showered The Integratron with life-giving blessings. Unlike their delicate
and ephemeral desert counterparts, The Karl Sisters are perennial
bloomers.
Beautiful women, these
two. Nancy Karl, the raven-haired former dot.com
marketer; JoAnne Karl,
the light-haired angelic former nurse. Looking into their eyes and
feeling their energy, I know that their beauty is enduring and
hardly superficial.
Their strong sense of
purpose to perpetuate the dream of a visionary who built The
Integratron. He was George Van
Tassel, a former test pilot for Howard Hughes and Douglas Aircraft
and UFO abductee,
by inviting the
public to share it with them, as well as their individual
fortitudes, are communicated to their guests with clarity. By
sharing their own unique experiences
and personal encounters at The Integratron, they impart a
sense of respect and reverence for this special place.
Reading
between their spoken words, I sensed that they possessed a
childlike wonderment about how they were "chosen" as
stewards. They were called there, plain and simple.
The tour is a FULL AND
SATISFYING EXPERIENCE. The Integratron's rich history is
nothing short of fantastically fantastic. The integrity of the
building and its architecture is evident everywhere. Built without metal that
would interfere with the generated electro-magnetic fields, intricate
woodcrafting with dowels, instead of nails, keeps the structure
together. Solidly built, it handily withstood the 1992 Lander's
earthquake, the most powerful U.S. earthquake in 40 years.
I won't share the
particulars of The Integratron tour here. Take the tour for
yourself. I do not wish to
color the personal experiences that await you if you are fortunate enough
to be drawn to The Integratron and The Sisters Karl. Better, I think, to not seek a predetermined result.
Just be open to whatever
is there to be experienced.
With Giant
Rock nearby, the area was once a spiritual
center for the indigenous people. A vortex.
No words can describe the subtle, but
powerful energy that is there.
Those who are "on the path", that is, people who have made a
commitment to grow and become as much as they would be spiritually
are drawn here, as there is also a gigantic sense of
Presence. Who would have
thought that Huell Howser was a wayshower! For me, that's
exactly what he was. It was, after all, Huell's lounging in the sky
chair in the domed upper room, being sound bathed that attracted
my attention.
After removing our
shoes, we climbed up a steep staircase to a domed upper room,
which serves as a multiple-wave sound chamber. Nancy, our
docent, urged each of us to stand in the middle of the
room, right under the center of the dome, and say something.
I felt a strong urge to
chant
in Hawaiian. I did. Then, I said,
"Wow!"
Later, we learned that the most common word people will
spontaneously say is "Hello," and when they hear
their voice amplified, the most common second word is,
"Wow!"
After Nancy treated us to a
beautiful mini-concerto on the quartz bowls, I went downstairs to
check on
the dogkids. Meanwhile, DD asked JoAnne if we could sign up for Huell's
floating sky chair and sound bath experience.
"We're already
solidly booked,"
she told DD. "Earlier today, we had to
turn down a young man who
wanted a sound bath for his birthday."
When he climbed down
the steep stairway, DD broke the disappointing news to me. If it
was meant to be, it would have happened. If even a
birthday boy doesn't get his sound bath, well, sheeesh!
Ah, well.
Everything in its own time.
As we were leaving,
the congenial woman at the ticket desk gave us a map to Giant
Rock, urging us to climb up Crystal Hill.
I wasn't feeling
completed, and I asked her if
there was a chance for no-shows for the sound bath, we'd check
back after four-wheeling the badlands nearby to see Giant Rock,
the airstrip, and the hill.
"The private sound
baths may be sold out," she explained, "but ANYONE can just show up
for the group sound bath."
"Come back at 5,"
she urged. "Join us for the group sound
bath."
Woo hoo! Mahalo
e ke Akua.
To
Be Continued
More info on The Karl
Sisters::
More info on The Integratron and
George Van Tassel:
"Life is a Gift."
Until next time,
Author Unknown
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the
present
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