New Mexico

Owned by an Indian couple

Last night, I stayed in Van Horn Texas. By mid-morning I had entered disconnect. All day I have been experiencing deja vu. Not recognition of a place I've never been to before, but a place I have been. I have alternately been in the Australian outback, the Deccan plateau, or Mexico. New Mexico is a very different state.

The Perfect Man Shrine

My first stop was in Columbus New Mexico, about three miles from the border crossing at Palomas Mexico. I was there to see a replica of a tomb in India. I think a little background information might be helpful here. I am a follower of an eastern spiritual master, Avatar Meher Baba. The appellation "avatar" has gone through pejoration and is now firmly ensconced in the jargon of web speak and self-aggrandizement, but there was a time when the word primarily meant a manifestation of a deity in bodily form on earth. By that definition, Zoroaster, Ram, Krishna, Buddha, Jesus, and Mohammed are also avatars, or the avatar depending on your point of reference. Meher Baba lived and worked primarily in India, but he came to the United States several times. His samadhi, or tomb, is near Ahmednagar, India.

An American Baba follower, Earl Starcher, built the tomb to be the centerpiece of a spiritual retreat center, but he died suddenly before it was finished. The property is now owned by a couple who are not followers of Meher Baba. The replica sits surrounded by trailer homes on the outskirts of the village of Columbus. I knew of the replica and had thought of it as a lesser Scotty's Castle; but when I started plotting my trip, I thought I would check it out. I arrived in Columbus around 10:30 after a three hour drive from Van Horn and a time change. I found it fairly easily thanks to directions from a friend who has been there several times. The shrine is neglected and fallen into disrepair. It is surrounded by houses. Behind it is an unobstructed view of the Florida Mountains. It is wierd, a bit sad, yet some of Earl's devotion still clings to the place. I went there expecting nothing and was unexpectedly touched. No revelations, but lots of ruminations about shrines and sanctuarys.

I opted out of crossing into Mexico for lunch after several locals discouraged me with words like "at your own risk." Instead I had chile rienos in Deming, drove to Las Cruces, found a health club to work out, and checked in at America's Best Value Inn. If you find yourself in these parts, I recommend it. It is a very good value. The owner is from Brisbane and I swear, he has successfully channeled Australia's outback. By the time I had checked in I thought I was in Australia. Then I went out to dinner in Mesilla, and was in Mexico. It ain't called New Mexico for naught.

The Organ Mountains

At the end of the day, which it now is, what I got from today was the land. The mountains, the desert, the biblically austere beauty suitable for any avatar looking for a wilderness in which to spend 40 days and nights, or jockey camels, or whatever. I am not a desert person. I don't think I could be happy living in one.  But I am seduced by its beauty; in Uluru, Deccan, Baja California, or the American southwest. My humble attempt to capture some of it is on my Facebook page,