Places of Peace and Power is the story of a long and enchanted pilgrimage to more than 1000 sacred sites around the world. It is also the story of an inner pilgrimage, my quest for spiritual awakening. I began traveling to the sacred sites in 1983 at the age of twenty-nine yet my journey had really begun when I was a young boy. My parents were world travelers who met during the Second World War in China, where my father worked as a fighter pilot and my mother as a code expert. After the war my father remained in the Air Force, giving our family the opportunity to travel and live around the world. I was born April 29, 1954, in the town of Colorado Springs, but my first memories are of Germany where I spent several childhood years. Three impressions stand strongly in my memory of those times: my father's fascination with archaeology and photography; my mother's love of classical music and painting; and the large collection of National Geographic magazines that were stored in my bedroom, immediately adjacent to my bed. Well before I learned to read I fell in love with those glorious photographs. Sitting in bed at night, I often fell to sleep and fantastic dreams while gazing at the extraordinary images. By the age of six I had already recognized what I wanted to do when I grew up. I would be an explorer, an archaeologist and a photographer. And, even then, I knew it would turn out to be in some unique and splendid way.

When I was twelve, our family moved to Asia. Crossing the Pacific by boat, we visited Japan, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Thailand, and the Philippines and then settled for nearly four years in New Delhi, India. This magical period of my life gave birth to many of the interests that would prepare me for my future journeys. I began practicing yoga and meditation; disciplines that would later help me sense the subtle energy fields at the sacred sites. I acquired my first two cameras, a Rolleicord and a Nikon Ftn. And I began my love affair with the adventure of rough travel in unknown places. I feel great love for my parents, who offered me such a wonderful upbringing.

Living in exotic India, I was little attracted to schoolwork or the company of other westerners, even boys my age. Instead, I yearned to lose myself in exploration. Dressed in native clothes and well tanned by the tropical sun, I went on solitary excursions to the far reaches of India, Nepal and Kashmir. Traveling by train, bus, foot, horse-cart, elephant and camel, my life seemed reminiscent of Kim in Rudyard Kipling's novel of the mystic East.

Scattered throughout the mountains and plains of these lands, certain sites have been magnets to great numbers of pilgrims for thousands of years. I was drawn to visit and photograph these places. The attraction was clear, yet it was also mystifying. I was fascinated by the art and architecture of the temples, the wonderful photographic possibilities, and the devotion of the thronging pilgrims. Yet there was something more, something so subtle that I was hardly aware of it: a spirit of place, a charged energy, a mysterious feeling beyond my previous knowing. This experience was the true beginning of my pilgrimage to the world's sacred sites. I did not understand it then, and indeed twenty years and three more trips to India would pass before I would recognize this spirit of place to be a field of power that saturates and surrounds the sacred sites.

Returning to the United States to complete high school, I began readings in anthropology, mythology and Eastern mysticism. At eighteen, pursuing my childhood dream of becoming an archaeologist, I entered the University of Arizona. My intention was to work toward a PhD. in pre-Columbian archaeology. But, this was not to be. Metaphysical questions were smouldering in my mind and an undeniable force of spiritual yearning urged me on to other things. Within a year I left university to return to India.

From my studies of Oriental religions I had become intrigued by the meditation practices of Tibetan Buddhism, particularly the Dzogchen sect, and intended to find a remote mountain monastery where I could sequester myself for some years of rigorous inner work. I also yearned to find a spiritual teacher or a Guru, as such a teacher is called in the Hindu tradition. I expected my teacher to be an old, white-bearded sage, toughened by years of austerities in a Himalayan cave. Instead I found an Indian guru who taught a simple path of love and selfless service. Deeply enthralled with his teachings, I began a ten-year period of monastic life and a serious, daily, multi-hour practice of sitting meditation. These years, spent between India and America, had strong psychological and philosophical influences on me. I gained three things of inexpressible value: the ability to focus my mind and experience peace within; a spiritual recognition of the interconnectedness of all existing things; and a passionate devotion to manifesting truth, beauty and goodness in the world.

The Mysterious Visions Begin

After years of monastic life, I felt compelled to express my spiritual understandings in some form of social or environmental service. Lacking any clear direction, I decided to first build a financial base of support while looking around for the real work I would do with my life. With all my travel experience it seemed logical to try my hand in the travel business. This proved to be a wise decision. A friend and I began two travel companies, had thousands of clients during our first two years of business, and made a good deal of money while having a very exciting time. We were a great team with a fantastic financial future, but my heart longed for something more. My yearning to give my life in service had grown during those two years in business. I lived alone, had continued daily sitting meditation and had found, spontaneously issuing from my heart, intense prayers that I might find my work. It was a bittersweet time. The devotion in my heart was wonderful but I also felt a sadness for I had still not found my way to bring truth, beauty and goodness into the world.

As these feelings grew stronger, something unexpected and quite magical occurred. Late one night after returning from a day at my office, I stood on the porch of my apartment and gazed upon a splendid full moon. Looking at the heavens had previously evoked longings and prayers in my soul, and on that night my yearning to find a way of service was much heightened. Closing my eyes, I passionately repeated my prayer, "Please God, let my life in some way become an expression of love and service in the world." At that instant, with my eyes still closed, I began to see a clear image in my mind. It was in full color, its detail as sharp as a photograph, and it filled my mental field of view. I immediately recognized what I was seeing. It was an image of the large stone heads on Easter Island. Though I had never been there, I knew about the place having read the book AKU AKU by Thor Heyerdahl when I was eleven years old. As I gazed at this beautiful image in my mind, an inner voice spoke to me, saying, "Go here. At this place you will begin to find the answers to your prayers."

Within a moment the vision faded and I opened my eyes. Everything was normal - the night, the moon, my apartment porch. Yet something mysterious was happening in and around my body. I could sense a kind of electric charge in the air all around me, and my weariness from the long day at work had disappeared. I closed my eyes again, hoping to see the image once more, but all that remained was blackness. What had just happened, I wondered? Never before had I seen such a clear picture in my mind, and the voice that had spoken to me was certainly not my own. Having practiced meditation for many years, I knew full well the tendency of the mind to come up with wild ideas and endless chatter. Yet what I had just experienced was not a product of my own internal dialogue or imagination. It had occurred within my mind, but it had not originated there. I had not conjured up the beautiful color picture nor the enigmatic words I had heard.

Quite stunned by this visionary experience, I brewed a cup of tea and sat to ponder. From my readings in parapsychology I knew that some psychically "gifted" persons have the ability to send and receive telepathic communications. While scientists have not been able to explain this phenomenon, it has been observed so often and under so many circumstances that it is generally recognized as fact. Maybe, I reasoned, what I had just experienced was the reception of such a telepathic communication. This idea was hard to believe, yet it was the only plausible explanation. Whatever the explanation, I had been compellingly affected by the visionary experience and I decided to follow its directive. I would travel to Easter Island. Whether or not my prayers would be answered, I liked the idea of visiting this dream place of my youth and I certainly needed some time off from work.

From that moment, a series of serendipitous events began to occur that strongly supported my plans. I was given a free airline ticket to South America. I found several books that shed light on the meaning of my vision and the journey it suggested. And I experienced a release from the questioning about my service and life's work. In addition to Easter Island, I decided to also visit the ruins of Machu Picchu in Peru, another place to which I had long felt an attraction. All of this planning and support happened quickly. Within a month I began the travels that would take me to see the mysterious stone giants on Easter Island. On that island and also at Machu Picchu, I received what again seemed to be telepathic communications. Similar to the initial vision I had had a few weeks earlier, these communications came as visual and auditory messages. Although the source and content of these messages were mysterious, I sensed that they did indeed portend an answer to my deepest prayers.

The first of these visionary experiences occurred atop the extinct volcano of Rano Raraku on Easter Island. Around the base of this volcano are many of the giant stone heads for which Easter Island is famous. After photographing these statues, I decided to climb the volcano. An hour of scrambling across the sides of the mountain brought me to its peak where I sat to enjoy the view. Catching my breath, I closed my eyes to meditate and attune my spirit with the energies of the place. As I brought my concentration to my breathing and thereby emptied my mind of thoughts, I became aware of a curious conceptual presence, a message of sorts, lingering at the periphery of my consciousness. Focusing my awareness on this new and foreign presence in my mind, I recognized two things. First, I had not thought up its message myself but that had somehow arrived in my mind already fully developed. Second, the presence/message had been there for some minutes while I had been clambering over the volcano. I had only noticed that conceptual presence when, reaching the top of the mountain, I had stopped the physical activity distracting me from notice of things in my mind. The words had been unobtrusively present in a peripheral ‘corner’ of my mind, as if patiently waiting for me to notice them.

The message said, "Go upon a journey to the sacred places of the ancient civilizations." There were no other notions and no accompanying images; only this simple suggestion. It is difficult to clearly describe what occurred when I brought my attention to this message. As I focused on that mysterious presence in my mind it moved from its peripheral position and began to flow through the rest of my mind. The idea of the message then began to fill my thoughts. As this occurred a tremendous feeling of ecstasy surged through my entire body, and I knew that my destiny was indeed beginning to be revealed to me. Sitting atop the volcano, I let myself relax deeply into this wonderful experience. It was a feeling like coming home after a long time away or of finding a loved one you had lost touch with for many years. An hour passed and rain clouds began to build over the peak. Rising, I made my way down to the emerald green valley far below. The conceptual presence and the rich feeling of ecstasy diminished as I reached the base of the volcano, yet the knowing that I was to travel to the sacred places of the ancient civilizations was etched firmly in my mind.

A second telepathic communication came a week later at the Inca ruins of Machu Picchu. One afternoon as the ruins were closing, I prepared to do some photography. Entering the sacred precinct by a hidden jungle path, I wandered about with only a gentle llama as my companion (over the course of days I fed this llama a few dozen cookies and it became my inseparable friend). After shooting several photos in the golden light of the setting sun, I went to the Intihuatana stone, the ‘Hitching Post of the Sun.’ This short pillar of stone, jutting from a larger sculptured base, had been the sacred center of Machu Picchu. A few archaeologists and astronomers had theorized that the Inca used the Intihuatana stone as some sort of solar and stellar observational device or marker. At the time I did not understand the significance of the stone or the theories regarding its astronomical use. But I felt a powerful presence or energy surrounding the stone. As the sun set behind the distant mountains, I stepped over the rope barrier encircling the Intihuatana stone and sat on its flat surface. I had an intuition that I was about to have another visionary experience and that the area around the Intihuatana would somehow increase my receptivity to that experience.

During the next twenty to thirty minutes I had a most astonishing experience of receiving a vision, a communication from the some thing or place beyond myself. As before, I received the suggestion to go on a journey to visit the sacred places of the ancient civilizations. I was also shown where to begin. In a film-like sequence of astounding visual clarity and brilliant color, I saw images of myself trekking through the evergreen forests of a rugged mountainous land. As the vision continued I explored shrines and temples in the dark forests, climbed lofty peaks, and played in steaming hot springs hidden in the virgin woods. From my earlier studies of oriental religions I recognized the architectural styles of the temples my visions showed. Japan was where my pilgrimage was to begin.

As soon as I grasped this message, the images faded. I found myself still sitting upon the Intihuatana stone. The sun had set and stars were beginning to appear in the night sky. A rich silence surrounded me, with only the soft roar of the Urubamba River far away in the darkness. I felt a peace so sublime, a joy so sweet that it rendered me intoxicated with ecstatic delight. How I would locate the old temples in the forests or where my pilgrimage would lead me after Japan, I did not know. I only knew that I must, very soon, set my feet on this sacred vision quest.

Returning to the United States refreshed and inspired from my travels, I was perplexed about exactly what to do next. No further telepathic communications or visions occurred. The ones I had received, however, took root in my mind and grew until they monopolized my daytime thoughts and many a night time dream. Hesitant at first, I finally discussed the matter with my business partner. To my surprise, he was very understanding. Since my return from Japan, he had noticed a decrease in my attention to our business activities and an increase in the time I spent daydreaming. He suggested that I take four or five months off from work, travel to Japan, bicycle around the mountains, and get the wanderlust out of my system. Elated by his encouragement, I began to plan my travels. In addition to reading about the history, religions and geography of Japan, I studied the language for two hours each day. Six months later I crossed the Pacific Ocean to begin my pilgrimage.

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