Where Seekers and Spiritualists Converge

As I approach Mount Shasta on Highway 89, the thick clouds slide away for a second to show its peak. In the same way that my first response to seeing a black bear is, “What a big Labrador!” my brain initially reaches for the everyday explanation: The “mountaintop” must actually be a cloud. It’s too many degrees above the horizon; it rises too steeply; it doesn’t look the way mountains look.

I crane my neck back like I’m beholding a skyscraper.

“Holy...

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