The Stones of Peace made it all the way to the top of Mount Sinai!! So did I, with the help of my guide, Mahmoud, a 22 year old Bedouin monk.

The Sinai Peninsula is populated predominantly by Bedouins, according to the manager of my hotel, Ahmad, thanks to whom I wear that beautiful warm Bedouin coat. Mahmoud carefully carried it down half the mountain for me because it was too warm to wear!

The Stones of Peace were given to me at a time when all the magic of life seemed to have stopped. The story can be heard here. The message of the Stones is: Going Forward there shall be Peace. Our Great Mother’s promise to encourage us during these difficult times…

I’d tried to connect with others I knew who were walking up the Mountain but hadn’t been successful. I tried to connect with yet others I knew who would be in the area. Finally, I decided to accept Ahmad’s advice and join a regular tour with a guide. Having been traveling since the 13th of October (more stories to come!) it seemed a good choice, and less expensive than trying to run after other people on my own in a foreign land!

That picture of me in my borrowed coat with the Stones of Peace was taken at one of the rest stops coming down the mountain the next morning. What a relief it was to be letting myself down rather than pushing my way up! Mahmoud was so encouraging, letting the rest of the tour go on ahead — there’s only one path up/down the mountain, and we would meet again at St. Catherine’s Monastery at the base… But here I am telling you about the end!! I should start with the going up… what a trek!

We all started off well, walking past the vendors’ stalls, and the check-point with the soldiers armed with automatic rifles; past St. Catherine’s Monastery with the hotel that was full when I tried to book it. (I loved staying at Lagona Dahab Hotel — and Ahmad, the manager!) Walking in the darkness I wondered if someone had dropped a bunch of cherries on the path, and I avoided stepping on them because I didn’t want to stain my new white shoes with red. Ha! I found out later, that’s camel poop! Just as well I avoided it!

The grade became steeper and I kept up well, for awhile. One of the other tour members offered to carry the bag that held my precious coat. Even unburdened, the farther up we went, the farther I fell behind. Drivers of camels coming down offered rides but I said no until one said, “Save yourself for the 750 steps!” and I couldn’t imagine doing that after doing this! I accepted his offer — for about CDN$20 I had the experience of a lifetime — one I’d read of in books, but never thought I’d ever do.

I rode a camel! Getting on was quite a stretch (this foot, up there?!) and with the animal rising from lying, the horns of the saddle were urgently required. It was not comfortable; great flexibility of the lower back is needed — I was deeply grateful for my (almost) daily QiGong routine. The driver, walking along beside, pacing the gentle giant, maintained a constant verbal connection. Zigzagging up the mountain, it seemed the camel would walk into walls but at the last moment, the “ship of the desert” would change directions and lurch up another level. At the topmost place he could go he was guided to lie down beside a rock wall and I dug my fingers in through the blankets to offer him a touch of thanks. I swung my leg up over the back horn of the saddle; then paid the driver and thanked him. I loosened up stiffened muscles on the short walk to the base of the stairs…

Stairs? In my experience, stairs are regularly elevated and arranged in flights. These are neither! This is rock climbing! To be fair, they were constructed from locally available stone by a generation of Bedouins and they make this impossible route possible, though, even so, it wouldn’t have been possible for me if not for Mahmoud. He walks the mountain every day. His family lives in the mountains and he grew up there. He expects to live his life there, and plans to go to school to learn more about his culture. He was delightful, and very very helpful. Patiently, he waited as I gathered the folds of the big coat so I didn’t tread on it. I was grateful for it and grateful for Mahmoud, and grateful for everything that had happened to bring me to this amazing experience. That’ll be in another post…

First I have to share the OMGosh experience of walking up to the top of the mountain to see the vast expanse of mountains spread out below us, the Full Moon setting behind us, and all the people who had come to the top of the Mountain to greet the dawn of a new day.  

Waiting for the sun to rise, I unwrapped my sacred bundle and created an altar on the stone wall. Using the bag itself (made from a batik created from an aerial topographical photo of my home) as an altar cloth, I set out the Stones of Peace, prayer ties for the Indigenous children of the Residential Schools, the icon I carry for Baháʼu’lláh and a shard of Hopi pottery. As I arranged what I had, I thought of what and who I didn’t have with me, and so made them part of all that was present… It was a very busy simple altar under the Full Moon of November 8 and the breaking dawn of November 9. People sang hymns… my heart broke, tears flowed and the sun burst free!

I just found (in a Whatsapp thread I lost) the most wonderful affirmation of my decision to not leave the Stones of Peace on the top of Mount Sinai!!  It could have meant my job was done. The story of how I received my life’s mission is coming out in December in the Ascension volume of Sacred Stories’ Common Sentience series (get your copy here: https://amzn.to/3G2dqap).  But I decided that leaving them lying unexplained would not help Her message be heard. I felt it would be like abandoning the feminine (round river Stones) in a very (harsh jagged) masculine place, yet I wasn’t sure. My first assurance that I made the right decision was meeting Ton van der Kroon and Anne Weitz on the way down. They were the people who received and shared the Call. They were the people I’d hoped to join, along with the group they were walking with — I showed them the Stones. I’d shared my intention in the Facebook group and they knew I was bringing the Stones, perhaps leaving them. I was deeply grateful to meet these Spirit-guided people! Here we are together, and here are the Stones in a picture showing my second assurance — MOM’s gift of presence and awareness — the time the pic was taken: 11:23, is a number sequence! Divine approval, as I see it!  (The video was taken by me and the photos by Minet Westerveld.)

We continued down the mountain (thanks for staying with me! Not much longer…) Mahmoud provided a strong arm and balance for me as I stepped from rock to rock down the uneven stairs. I didn’t get to see much of the view, I was so busy putting my feet in the right spots! The temperature rose as we descended and I took off the beautiful coat.  Mahmoud put it over his arm and gave the other back to me.

At one point I heard a call from behind me, “Grandmother, grandmother!! How can I help you?” A woman stepped in front of me and looked deeply into my eyes. “What do you need?” Scrambling for something she could provide that I needed, I said, “I need to tell you Mother Earth’s message: Going Forward there shall be Peace!” It was all I could think of, but Annette had ideas of her own! She anointed me with oils to ease my lungs, head and heart, and a scarf to warm my shoulders. At one point I looked at Mahmoud and said, “A medicine woman!” thinking of the rest of the tour so far ahead of us, and he smiled and shrugged. I relaxed into her care and attention. Her companion spoke of knowing a Hopi Grandmother on the Second Mesa and I said, “I have a shard of Hopi pottery in my bundle” and “I’ve been to a Kachina Dance!” at which she brought out sacred corn pollen that was added to the oils on my forehead and to my hands. I don’t remember all that happened, nor Annette’s companion’s name, but I remember Annette holding her phone focused on me, filming me as I talked and walked behind her. I thought she did it very well and look forward to connecting with her and her companion again to find out what I said, and to learn more about their group of Grandmothers working on having the Papal Bull, the Doctrine of Discovery, rescinded by the Pope. They went on ahead, and we continued…

Coming, finally, to the end of the trail, Annette and her friend came to hug me. I went to return the blue headscarf with which she had replaced the thicker one around my shoulders. She had used it to coach me in breathing: Breathe in blue; breathe out red… When I touched it, to return it to her, she said, “Don’t even think it!” I was SO blessed!

Before rejoining our tour group Mahmoud made sure I saw the Monastery, and then delivered me to the minibus for our 2 hour trip back to Dahab. I was last to be dropped off so I got to see the goats running through the streets, and other places people were staying. The woman of the last couple we dropped off turned to me as she was leaving and said, “I have something for you.” Mystified, I waited as she dug into her bag. She pulled out a folded plastic square – it was the bag for my beautiful Bedouin coat! I had not, as I feared, added to the plastic pollution of the mountain; and I was able to return the coat as I had received it. I thanked her whole-heartedly. It was the perfect ending! 

This has been a long story; thank you for your interest and dedication! I hope you enjoyed it, and buy the book with the story that inspired my life’s work (“I will speak for You, when the time is right!”). It is to be published December 12, 2022: https://amzn.to/3G2dqap