I was Blindfolded in the Woods at Night: A True Story

We were set out in the moonless, dense forest at night - blindfolded. They wanted to make sure we couldn't see anything. We were set so far apart that we could not even hear each other and call for help. It was odd, giving up all sight and yet having to walk through dense, thorny brush. Occasionally someone far away would beat a drum, and we would try to walk toward the sound.

The drum spoke. Thump! I started walking slowly, feeling my way, walking toe to heel. Walking heel to toe, as most modern people do, is something brought on by wearing shoe soles on our feet. Stomping down as hard as you can on forest twigs and spiky branches won't faze you a bit with hard soled shoes on. Try walking heel to toe barefoot though, and you will soon have a twig shoved right up into that tender foot flesh. Oh, did I mention we were barefoot, too? I walked along carefully, putting my toes down first.

Thump! I moved forward, my hands out in front of me. I wasn't particularly fond of finding trees with my head. I tried to listen for the drum beat and follow that way for a few steps. I paused, listened again and thump!

The time I'd been through the blindfold drum stalk before, the walking was fairly easy. The trees were far enough apart that I could easily feel them with my hands, and I could stand up the whole way. An odd thing occurred that first time. After I'd been walking for awhile, I relaxed more deeply and moved more fluidly. When that happened, I started to see what looked like lights outlining trees. I checked and double-checked my blindfold; it was secure.

When I "saw" these tree outlines, I started putting my hands out toward them, and more times than not, I would touch a tree. Why this happened, who can say? But I'm sure it had something to do with tapping into that sixth sense we all hear so much about. I'd had about a few thousand "coincidences" like this before, that pointed to a sixth sense or even more. After a few thousand "coincidences" even the biggest skeptic (like me) starts to wonder - and believe.

This walk that I was on now, however, was different. First of all, we had been blindfolded much, much farther away from where the drum was than we had been the first time. This time, I could barely hear the drum when the blindfold drum stalk had started.

Secondly, the terrain was much different. The flora was totally different. After just a few yards, the brush got so thick I could no longer push through it. I was forced to crawl, blindfolded and feeling my way along the ground, still listening for the drum.

So at this point you may be asking yourself, why? Why put yourself through something like this? All I can say is that I knew from others that had gone through it, that they raved about the experience (as have my students since). Further, the exercise is designed to open your other senses besides sight, on which we so much rely. Beyond that, the exercise begins to open the senses beyond the senses you normally experience. It begins to open the sixth sense and more.

Crawling on my hands and knees, still blindfolded, at some point I wandered into a thick clump of prickly brush. Somehow I got lodged deep in the brush and could not find my way back out. No telling where I was. For the life of me, I could not find an exit. I would go one way, get blocked by dense, prickly brush, go another way, get blocked again, ad infinitum. I was stuck, cut up by the thorns, and starting to panic.

I thought about taking off the blindfold but then thought, no I won't cheat. I'll just stop and calm myself down and "feel" where to go. "Feel" with my spirit, not with my body. So I stopped, sat back on my heels, took some deep breaths, and reached out with my spirit, trying to sense what was around me.

I sensed that I should go in a certain direction and began crawling that way. Surprisingly, I found my way out of that tangle of briers and branches within a few seconds. Relieved, I continued on. Thump! The drum was sounding louder now, and frankly I couldn't have been happier.

There was a stream to cross, I knew, about waist deep, between me and the drum. We were supposed to find the log that went across the stream (propped about two or three feet above the stream) and try to walk it blindfolded. That would mark the end of our blindfold drum stalk.

I had a hard time even finding the stream for awhile, much less the log that crossed it. But finally I did. I also found the log, which I had crossed without a blindfold in the day time many times. I climbed up on it, stood, and took a few, careful steps. Splash! I heard laughter on the shore, and I laughed with them. I felt my way to the shore and took off my blindfold. I had made it. Later, I actually saw a number of people who walked that dad-blasted log blindfolded - at night - the whole way. Some people are just talented that way.

The whole experience was more than just walking through a big brushy area with a blindfold on at night. There was something more I felt I had just learned and accomplished. Perhaps a battle with my own self-honesty. Perhaps a battle with my perseverance and tendency to give up at a certain point. Perhaps a battle with my own demons. Perhaps all of these and more. There were lessons learned here that I cannot put into words.