Sunlight stains the mountain peaks pink, but I cannot relish a slow dawn – I’ve got to find the missing piece by sundown. I shrug from my sleeping bag into a sweater. My duffle gets stashed under a tree and I head upward across a scree-field, munching an apple. My feet crunch broken rock.

Mom introduced me to Windsong, the Wise woman, a decade ago. Visiting her, awe and comfort mix. Her beautiful face is ancient and youthful, wise and loving. 

Today is the final test before my initiation rite. Being the only teen given this chance makes me proud of my family’s pedigree.I’ll be revered as a wise woman, like mom and Windsong.

My assignment: find the missing link to complete the magic circle on the mountain’s summit. The rite will not happen unless I succeed.

Wish mom gave more clues. ‘Search until you drop’–what kind of advice is that? What do I look for? A sacred crystal, maybe? Guess I’ll know when I find it.

Three days roaming the wilderness, coming up empty, convinces me I am destined to fail. Must be unworthy, or I’d be ready in time.

I continue climbing, eyes peeled, ears perked, awaiting revelation. I listen so hard I can hear my heartbeat against the backdrop of wind over rock.

Nothing.

As boulders replace scree, my pace slows. Breathing labors due to altitude. I’m so dizzy. Not an iota of inspiration or insight; noon approaches. Wiping sweat from my brow I push upward, preparing to accept disgrace and defeat.

***

The peak looms. Scaling a steep slope with gasping breath, arms and legs feel like lead. On a ledge before the pinnacle, I sit. Only hours left. Sunlight glints off the rock. What’s that? I stretch to grasp a shiny object lodged in a crevice. A crystal! It glitters golden light.

I fumble. Shoot! It slips from my hand and tumbles down to the valley along with my dashed hopes.

Torn between a desire to scream and an urge to let go, I surrender to the moment. Detached from my body, my spirit floats, weightless among clouds, then soars beyond them. The mountain looks tiny. I can’t feel my body but I’m still me. I smile within, liberated and vibrant.

Next thing I know, I’m back in physical reality, wretched with fatigue and stinking of sweat. Every muscle aches. Scratches and bruises clamor with stings of pain. The ecstasy dissolves as despair returns.

Sun continues its stubborn sky-trail.

***

Sundown. Mom and the Windsong stand, eyes locked on me as I reach the peak. I study the ground. Failure stings worse than cuts and bruises.

“What have you found, Jennifer?” Windsong touches my arm, her touch and tone both gentle and firm.

Kicking a rock, I look up. “Nothing.” I sigh. “I’m not fit for initiation. Sorry to disappoint.” I glance at Mom, perturbed by her incongruent smile.

“Have you discovered anything?” 

“Nothing.” I pause, and frown. “I’ve seen how small I am.”

“Yes. Hmm…what else?”

“Well, um, I can fly out of my body but it hurts when I come back.”

“What have you gained from these discoveries?”

My eyes fix on the color and contour of every pebble as I consider her question. “Humility, I—I guess.”

Windsong places a forefinger under my chin, tilting my head upward.

“Now, you’re ready.” She grins. “I knew you’d pass the test.” With a nod, she sweeps her arms outward. “Step into the circle.”

I found the missing peace.