Desert Journey

By Dr. Jerry Burgener

Time and experiences had left lines on my face, which had grown deeper, like the dusty trails of my life that I seemed to be retracing.

Reeling from yet another relationship failure, Jerry travels to the American Southwest to spend a couple of months riding his horse, savoring the warm weather, and finding respite from the daily grind. But what begins as a simple escape to the wide-open spaces of Arizona soon becomes a powerful odyssey of self-discovery.

When Jerry comes upon an Indian named Tom in the middle of the Superstition Mountains, he senses that the meeting is no casual encounter. Wise and unreserved, Tom speaks to Jerry with a knowingness that both unnerves and captivates him.

Jerry is compelled to return to the mountain again and again to accept Tom's challenges, exercises, and assignments for living in the moment, tuning into the love all around him, and honoring a connection to Spirit. With Tom as his guide, Jerry uses dreams and visions of his own past lives to make sense of his modern reality.

Tom's lessons cause Jerry to question long-held beliefs, but they also afford him the insight he needs to move beyond pain and make his metaphysical journey toward inner peace and enlightenment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 30, 2007
• ISBN: 9780595865642

Dr. Jerry Burgener

Dr. Jerry Burgener grew up in Illinois and still lives there today. He received his PhD from Southern Illinois University, spent most of his career as a forensic psychologist, and is now in private practice. Dr. Jerry has also ridden and trained horses in Illinois and Arizona.

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Copyright © 2007 by Gerald W. Burgener

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN: 978-0-595-42226-5 (pbk)

ISBN: 978-0-595-86564-2 (ebk)

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

To the spiritual guides we encounter in everyday life. My guides include my loving daughter, Jerica, and my best friend, Brad.

Thank you to the wonderful people at I-Universe, who helped make this a better book.

Chapter 1

I promised to tell this story. Since the person I made the commitment to was not someone you would want to disappoint, I will tell you what happened.

It began this last year in the desert Southwest, where I had arrived, after a three-day odyssey, from Illinois for what I thought was going to be a two-month vacation, riding horses and escaping from the end ofa relationship. IfI had been able to see the future and knew all that was to happen, I may have chosen to stay home. By the time the trip was over, my view of my life would forever be changed, and I would come to question many of the core beliefs I had thought to be true.

I parked my horse trailer, with living quarters, at a local ranch in Apache Junction, near Superstition Mountain and all of the surrounding trails of the Tonto National Forest.

I thought it was ironic to call the area a national forest when there were hardly any trees other than scraggly little bushes with no leaves on them. I was used to the forests of the Midwest, where towering oak, maple, and sycamores obscured the skyline.

Life in Arizona was strictly my own, not affected by the day-to-day responsibilities and problems I had left behind. The biggest decision I had to make was to either ride with other snowbirds or travel the trails by myself. Usually, it was more interesting to be with other people, but lately I wanted time by myself, as I was given to self-exploration.

On one sun-filled morning, my horse and I started out alone.

The desert in winter was quiet, and only a light wind interrupted my thoughts. For me, life made the most sense when seen from between the ears of a horse. But on this day, I was feeling empty and out of balance with the world around me. Even though I had fifty-five years of experience on this planet, I was a long way from figuring anything out, especially when it involved relationships with the opposite sex, but I kept on trying.

Physically, the years had been good to me. I still had much of the same curly, brown hair that was there when I was the adventure seeker, jumping out of airplanes and flying helicopters for the National Guard. Time and experiences had left lines on my face, which had grown deeper, like the dusty trails of my life that I seemed to be retracing.

* * * *

I grew up a middle child from a large family in a rural farming community in central Illinois. I had learned I needed to be different if I wanted attention, and my father quickly taught me that misbehaving wasn’t the way I wanted to be noticed. Our little farm raised all sorts of livestock, and, most of the time, we had a horse or two among the cattle, sheep, and pigs.

I was always drawn to the horses and would spend hours riding after chores were done. The one saddle we had was in poor shape, and it wasn’t long before I mostly rode bareback. My cousin, who lived a half mile away, had a horse that was as spirited as mine, and we would race to see who had the fastest animal.

We would line up, side by side, in a freshly mowed pasture. I would wrap one hand in the mane of my horse as my other hand tightened the reins. Sensing the impending duel, the horses would prance, excited to begin the competition. We would lean over the horses’ necks, and with a ready, set, go, the race for bragging rights would begin.

If I hadn’t had a tight grip on the mane, I would have flown off the back of the lunging hindquarters. Wind would whip by my face as I leaned forward, asking for more speed. Needing little encouragement, my little horse would fly across the pasture in a flat-out run that would end after about a quarter of a mile. Sometimes my horse and I were the victors, and other times my cousin would win. But the excitement of the race would linger even after our horses had been turned back out into their pastures. That was the beginning of my becoming hooked on the adrenaline that resulted from taking risks and living life to its fullest.

* * * *

When I left Illinois for Arizona, I gave up a relationship at the same time. Natalie was beautiful, giving, financially secure, and adventurous—all I thought I wanted in a partner. I enjoyed nearly every minute of my time with her, but there was something missing that kept me from giving into the relationship. Was it fear? It seemed fear had been in my life for a long time.

I could still see Natalie’s long, black hair cascading down her back as I imagined the gentle touch of her hand caressing my face. Could it be that I was afraid to commit, or was I just picking the wrong women to care for? I don’t know. I had told her that I wanted to explore other possibilities, and she wasn’t able to live with that. If Natalie wasn’t right for me, why did I miss her so much?

What added to the regret was the memory of my daughter, Jerica, saying, Dad, I really like her. Why didn’t you stay with Natalie?

Jerica had seen too many relationships come and go since my divorce from her mother. I felt guilt at her words.

I had been married three times, and the longest marriage had lasted only ten years. It seemed as if my life were an old record album that kept skipping backward at the same point in the song, never to reach an emotionally satisfying end.

Where was I going wrong? Questions spun around my mind like a top, rendering me even more confused than I’d been when I had begun the ride. Usually, horses were my therapy, helping me find peace within myself, but it wasn’t working today.

After leaving the ranch, I moved quickly into the Gold Fields. This area was known for its gold exploration of the late 1800s, with frequent pits noting past attempts to find that precious metal. The desert had a diversity of plants, from creosote bushes and ocotillo to the majestic saguaro cactus pointing into the sky. But I was not paying attention to the beauty, as my mind wandered.

My mare, Liberty, hesitated at a fork in the trail and then decided which path to take. I just hope she remembers the way back home. I gently touched her flank, and she stepped into a smooth, mile-eating foxtrot. The rhythmic creak of the saddle had a soothing effect on my soul. The further I went from the ranch, the more primitive the trail became with less signs of having been traveled.

The flat of the Gold Fields gave way to the mountains surrounding Apache Junction with the trails following the contours of the land. The path was well worn from the hooves of the horses that had come before. I wondered if these were new trails or remnants of the tracks taken by the Indians and miners of long ago.

I saw a switchback climbing into an area I had not noticed before. My mare hadn’t adapted to the mountains yet, so I pulled gently on the reins and slowed her to an easier pace. The climb became steeper, and the trail again doubled back as we got nearer to the top. The vegetation thinned to sagebrush interspersed among the rocks and even though the sun was bright, the temperature dropped.

We reached what I thought was the top and found it had hidden the true peak, which jutted up into the sky. The trail flattened and led around the false peak. As we came around the top, I was surprised to see a man sitting on a rock on the slope side of the trail. He almost appeared to be asleep, but he sat too erect for that. Liberty saw him and stopped. I half expected her to jump, as she usually did when she saw something new. Instead she seemed almost curious about the man.

I didn’t want to scare him, so I politely said, Hello, announcing our presence.

He didn’t seem surprised, even though we were intruding in his remote mountain hideaway. The only change in him was a deep breath, which made me wonder if he had been breathing before. Where did that thought come from?

He turned, and after quickly looking us over, rose and said, Hi, why don’t you come and sit for a while? Your horse looks hot.

I quickly looked down at Liberty and saw sweat covering her shoulders. The heat of irritation coursed through my body from not having noticed she was lathered from our climb up the mountain. I was proud of the fact that I was good about paying attention to my horse. I shifted my weight in the saddle, wanting to end the conversation with this stranger and move on, alone with my thoughts of Natalie.

I saw that he was an Indian, with straight, black hair that hung down past his ears. He had a red bandana tied around his head, and he wore a gray denim shirt and worn blues jeans. His face looked as if it had been chiseled out of old rock, with sharp peaks and deep crevices. As he stood, I had noticed tennis shoes that looked as if they’d put on a lot of miles. He stretched as if he had woken from a nap and strode quickly to the trail.

Liberty stepped up to him so he could scratch her nose, as if they were long lost friends.

Nice horse, he said, moving his hand to her neck. He looked at me with two of the darkest eyes I had ever seen. It almost felt as if lasers were aimed at my head, with only his smile softening his high-powered gaze. Come on. Check out the view from over here. It’s truly amazing. He turned and started walking back to the bluff.

I hesitated. Logically, I should have just ridden on and left this man I did not know. My spurs were ready to touch my horse’s side, moving her on down the trail and out of this stranger’s life. But something indefinable stopped me. I felt oddly drawn to this man, and I swung my leg over my horse and stepped down to the ground.

I turned and looked over at the ledge where he had been sitting, wondering what I should do with Liberty if I was to climb out to the rock he had been sitting on. It was almost as if he read my mind. You can tie your horse over by my tent, he said over his shoulder. I looked to my left, and, sure enough, he had an austere camp set up among the rocks. I was surprised I hadn’t noticed it as we’d ridden up, as I am normally more observant than that. Near his tent was a small scrub bush that did look like a place I could tie to, but I was not sure if it was strong enough in case something should spook Liberty.

She will be fine, he said even though his back was to me, and he couldn’t have known what I was thinking. Could he?

Normally I wouldn’t have trusted a stranger’s judgment when it came to my horse, especially if an error meant that I would walk home. But there was something about this man that I wanted to trust.

Okay, I said, with some hesitation, as I tied her to the bush.

I walked over to his vantage point and was met with another smile as he turned, offered his hand and said, My name is Tom.

I slipped my gloves off and wiped my hand against my pants before I shook his calloused hand.

Mine is Jerry, I replied, looking closely at his face, trying to figure out what this man was all about. I turned to the valley and was struck by a view that was remarkable, capturing the surrounding mountains and a truly beautiful valley.

Have a seat. What do you think of my view of life?

View of life? What a strange statement, I thought, but quickly passed it off. I kept glancing at him out of the corner of my eye and wanted to ask him what he was doing up there, but I didn’t want to be rude.

We sat quietly for several minutes as I wondered about this unusual man that I had just met. I was surprised I was talking to him and not riding down the trail. He was very different, but there was something about him that made me want to get to know him better. My mind drifted back to another time in my life that I had felt an instant bond with someone.

* * * *

I was a senior in college, studying for a degree in geology. Being a young man, I was equally interested in women as I was in academics, and I dated frequently.

Friends introduced me to Marilyn, one of three women that would lead me to him. The first thing I noticed about her was long, brown hair that cascaded around a pretty face. When she laughed the lights would bounce off her hair, and her beauty would mesmerize me. I quickly found her to be smart, funny, and easy to talk to.

We had been going out for several weeks, and I was beginning to have feelings for her. I called Marilyn on a Wednesday night and started talking about what we were going to do on Friday night. After an awkward pause, she said she had another date for Friday. I squeezed the phone in a stunned silence.

I thought she liked me.

As if to justify going out with someone else, she blurted out, His name is Dick, and he drives a yellow Corvette.

That didn’t make me feel any better as all I could afford was a very old Ford.

Anger at what I thought was a betrayal quickly passed as my life went on, filled with classes during the day and trips to the pub at night. It wasn’t long before I was once again developing feelings for a beautiful young lady.

* * * *

Her name was Julie. I first saw her picking songs from the jukebox in a local bar, as she swayed seductively to the beat of Brown-Eyed Girl. Long dark hair cascaded down her face as she studied the song selection.

Wanting to see what was hidden behind the hair, I walked over and sat my beer next to hers, as I pretended to look at the song choices. Pushing her hair over her ear, she looked to see who had joined her.

Beautiful, brown eyes took my breath before she turned back to the song selection. A small smile convinced me she was not disappointed at the interruption.

Was that song written for you? I asked, drinking in the beauty of her face.

Do you really think that line will work? she replied, turning to me, her eyes almost challenging as she awaited my response.

It was bad, wasn’t it? I replied, laughing as I picked up my beer for another drink. I am doing research for a social psych class, and I am supposed to ask at least one beautiful woman a day what it would take to get them to have a drink with me. So, can I buy you a beer? I asked smiling.

Not just yet, she said laughing, lifting her half full glass for emphasis.

I was compelled to find out all I could about this intriguing woman, What are you studying? I asked.

With a playful tilt of her head, she said, I want to know if men tell as many lies when they are sober as they do when they have been drinking. Her reply was quick and playful, right up my alley.

After we had been dating for two weeks, I called to talk. Julie hesitantly told me she wanted to see someone else. When her declaration was met with silence, she blurted, His name is Dick, and he drives a yellow Corvette.

Why do they have to tell me he has a Corvette? Does that make it okay?

I said good-bye, knowing I would miss her. What are the odds? I thought. How many Dicks on this campus drive a yellow corvette anyway?

Hesitant to date again, I started spending more time on academics and

Reviews for Desert Journey

[beckvalleybooks · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Absolutely loved this book, I was completely hooked from the start and found it extremely difficult to put down. This is one of them books you just do not want to end, WOW! Such an easy flowing read and one mans quest to find true happiness and his true self is utterly believable.On a horse trek around Spiritual Mountain Jerry is gently guided by the hands of fate to an encounter with a wise old Indian named Tom unbeknownst to Jerry, Tom is his spiritual friend from many past lives and his spiritual mentor on his life's journey, they have shared many lifetimes together and made an agreement a long time ago to find each other to help reach their fullest potential.As they sit overlooking the valley Jerry is asked what his most important goals in life are, his reply is to be happy and to learn what it is that he needs to know from this lifetime. The answer is very simple 'To be in the Moment', Tom replies. Tom agrees to teach Jerry only on the condition that he writes all about what all they have talked about in their many times together for people to enjoy and learn from.The only drawback to the book is that you can not actually sit on the edge of the mountain with them to share the wonders and solitude of the valley although the book describes it so very well you almost feel as if you are there yourself.Tom begins to teach Jerry the spiritual lessons he requires, these are very clear and gives the reader a great awareness to life's real important lessons, extremely clever story writing by the author. I could write an absolute page upon page but some of the points are that your own perspective on an identical situation can change it from a negative to positive everything happens in life for a reason and for lessons to be learnt, we should take a step back from life events and look at the wider picture from our past and present lifetimes realizing that each event is another opportunity and isn't as important as we think - some people come into our life for a purpose and once that is met they may go on to other things. Also that fear leads to negative feelings and therefore what you are actually thinking about you can bring about, when our emotions are high the signals we send to others make them easier to be picked up and influence their behavior towards ourselves.One sentence that made me think was that when someone acts in a way that irritates us it is usually because we have it in common but are unable to see it in ourselves, I'm going to have to remember this for the next time it happens.A fantastic story in its own right with self discovering special messages to be read and learnt. This is one book that I could and probably will read again and again. I cannot rate this book highly enough, loved it !!