Life is like a mountain

How does one even begin to describe an adventure that peels back the layers of reality itself? I'm attempting to from Dharamkot, Northern India, still processing an experience that deepened my understanding of what truly exists, far beyond our physical sight. I write this with profound blessings, gratitude, and thanks for this experience. Its lessons are paramount. This journey has added, and continues to add, layers of knowledge and experience beyond what our eyes can see.

My belief is that consciousness is the universe's underlying aspect, the very fabric of our existence. Carl Jung, who wrote extensively on synchronicity, discussed this thoroughly; he saw signs aligning with his projects.

There's an energy reality where ideas, thoughts, experiences, and emotions impact unseen areas. I experienced this more strongly than ever before – an experience I see as the potential of positive energy, love, consciousness, miracles (something beyond what we consider natural), and God. Everything is exactly where it needs to be. While my journey to India was planned, this unexpected detour to Northern India, though born from difficult circumstances, has shown me how everything is truly meant to be. Had I not come, I wouldn't have been there for a friend, nor experienced this. There was a sense of a greater power willing everything to work out exactly as it did.

Indeed, the stars aligned for me to be in India. I began my travels, spending my first month in Georgia and the second in South Goa – an incredibly productive time. I enjoyed myself, working hard on both my job and personal brand. Towards the end of my trip in South Goa, I logged onto Facebook one morning to photos of my good friend Sam's face plastered everywhere with "MISSING: Last seen on Triund track near Laka Glacier." I couldn't believe it; I'd just spoken to him Wednesday. He must be partying, I thought. But the article said he'd been missing since Friday, and it was already Monday or Tuesday.

The Search for Sam

That's when I knew it was serious. Did someone push him? Rob him? Injure him in a fall? I called his friends in Israel. They reassured me professional teams were searching, that they didn't need help. I spent the next day and a half with my girlfriend, reeling, imagining what was wrong. For context, I was in South Goa, Sam was on the other side of the country.

There were moments in the beginning, when we found he was lost, that I thought he was no longer with us. It was at those moments that my girlfriend would push me to believe he was alive. Internally, I felt unneeded. But was I wrong? We need everyone. Every energy, thought, positive action counts toward a goal, especially in a group effort. We often, myself included, undervalue individual efforts. These are lessons I learned while Sam was on the mountain. One must always have hope and belief, even against all odds, until solid proof exists.

When I first learned my friend was missing, about four days in, I thought he was gone. Every night, through South Goa's monsoon rains, I thought about him enduring that freezing environment. My hopes weren't high. I thought he'd hit his head, fallen somewhere. If he was okay, wouldn't he have come out or been found? My thoughts were overrun with images of him crushed by rock or passed out.

About two days after learning he was missing, I decided to look for him after talking with a mutual friend. Another lesson: I didn't think my efforts would matter. I undervalued myself. I thought professional teams were looking, as a family member told me, and that I wasn't necessary. I was dead wrong. Sam had no family or close friends up here. I was about to find out my importance. Lesson: Never undervalue your efforts, especially when helping or for a good cause. Often in life, I felt I could sit things out because my effort didn't matter.

After a short conversation with my friend Pazz, I realized my effort was necessary. Shaken into action, I immediately bought a ticket to look for him. My flight to Dharamshala was leaving from North Goa, where my girlfriend and I had originally planned to spend the rest of our trip. Fortunately, I'd only booked a hotel for a week. We traveled to North Goa together, arriving just a few hours before my flight. I barely had time to prepare that Friday night before taking my hour-long taxi to the airport.

Only flights with three stops were available. I spent the whole night moving from plane to security check to plane. If you've been through Indian security checks, you know their seriousness; full body scans. After passing three bustling airports, I eventually reached Dharamshala airport. I was to meet in Dharamkot, a part of Dharamshala, a small, picturesque mountain town nestled at the Himalayan foothills at the bottom of the Triund track. This is where Sam left for Triund and the Laka snowline, which still had glaciers and snow.

I immediately jumped into action upon arriving in Dharamshala, without sleep, meeting Imogen, a fellow DJ of Sam's, who had searched for him for three days. She was to play a set with him on Friday the 13th, which he obviously missed. I met Yonatan, an IDF drone pilot, who heard about Sam and drove six hours from Parvati Valley, Kasol, to join the search.

After an in-depth conversation with Imogen about where she thought Sam was, we headed to the cafe to speak with the search and rescue team head. I immediately felt uneasy. Though they claimed search teams were on the mountain, something felt off. There was a significant dissonance: between the search teams, the family, the heads of the rescue operation, and crucially, a severe lack of local searchers on the mountain. My local friend on the mountains confirmed no Israeli teams were searching the right areas. Most hired rescue personnel were from six hours away, not local. This made no sense; Sam remained unfound, suggesting more local search efforts were desperately needed.

I informed everyone I was Sam's close friend, giving the family someone on the ground who knew him. This also helped psychologically assess his whereabouts. Some speculated he might have committed suicide, but knowing him, this was unrealistic, far from it. Sam had just finished a breathwork certification and learned to DJ. After speaking to him Wednesday, he discussed future plans for Israel, hoping to start a personal brand organizing events. So, his future was bright. From my perspective, he was definitely on his way up – up a mountain, that is.

Before leaving for Dharamshala, I brought something significant. Sam had left a phone camera stand at my house a year earlier after using my apartment while I was in Greece. I brought it as part of my content production equipment. Before leaving for North Goa, I'd told my girlfriend I'd finally return it to Sam. In my mind, I'd envisioned a skinny, grizzled Sam receiving it. LOL. That camera stand made it up the mountain with me the day I went to find Sam. Remember this.

The Miracle of His Return

Back to the story: After meeting with the SART (Search and Rescue Team) head, we decided a proper drone search was needed. The previous search was too fast, inefficient; drone pilots hadn't covered areas and lacked communication with those who knew Sam's likely location – another strategic error: lack of communication among team members.

Anyway, a plan to fund new drones was made. Everything took so long. Though we felt time ticking – every moment counts, especially eight days into a scenario with someone missing, likely injured, in treacherous terrain – there was a feeling this was necessary, and our efforts would be rewarded. I distinctly remember, after closing the drone rental deal, feeling absolute confidence we'd find him. It was so sure, I almost posted it in the family WhatsApp group, but decided against it, considering the situation. Probably not best to raise hopes after so long, when the rational thought was he was likely no longer alive.

The odds: he could have fallen and died, been crushed in a landslide (as happened years before), injured and eaten by animals (sloth bear, wild dogs, snow leopards, regular leopards), starved, died of dehydration, frozen at night. The potentials were endless. As I said, chances weren't good. Still, our hopes were high.

Everything took so long. Just reaching him was about 4500 meters above sea level – a five-hour hike up a mountain with no cell service where weather can turn from balmy to treacherous, with zero visibility, in 30 seconds. We had to wait until the next day; no way I was going up at night. Nobody does that, not even locals. Oh, and I was wearing barefoot Earth Runners sandals, which I highly recommend for grip generally, but not for Himalayan hiking – no, I'm not paid for this.

We packed our bags that night, stuffing one with the two drones, eight batteries, and controllers. It almost weighed 80 lbs. The next morning, we set off. It wasn't the best day; multiple downpours during the climb. It was shitty, thinking what he experienced up there – rain was bad here, but what about 4500 meters up, where it was significantly colder?

We eventually reached the top of the Triund trek, to an opening that looked landscaped with green grass and no trees, filled with ravens everywhere. It looked like something from The Lord of the Rings. We stopped for a chai to warm up and rest before continuing to the Laka snowline, where Sam was last seen. It was about an hour away. As I chatted with Yonatan, the drone pilot, a local man beckoned me over, wanting to show me something. I thought it strange; my initial reaction was, "WTF does he want? Push me off a cliff like Sam, LOL?" But then I told myself to be positive.

I walked over. He showed me a video: a balding, emaciated man with a gray-white beard and striking blue eyes, sitting against a wall, being fed chapati by Indians. I couldn't believe my eyes – it was Sam! Against all odds, after not seeing a single soul for nine days, Sam had found his own way out, emerging near the village of Tharti, at the bottom of the Himalayas. The experience was unlike anything I'd ever felt: the excitement, the high, the sheer experience; it was a dream. I jumped up, running back to Yonatan, who was drinking tea. "Sam was found! Sam was found!" How? What happened? Where was he, so many questions floating in my head. The mission was done.

We celebrated atop the Triund as the search team descended. I met them, thanked them; many had worked tirelessly for days. After meeting most of the team, we decided to descend the mountain immediately. The way down felt much longer than the way up. Who knew why? Maybe finding him changed something. As soon as we got signal, I messaged loved ones with the good news. It was exciting, but also treacherous; the sun was setting. The last thing I wanted was to become another statistic after finding my friend. After trekking down, we immediately dropped off the drones and drove to FORTIS Hospital in Kangra. I had my bag with the prized camera holder for Sam. The hospital was about an hour's drive from Dharamkot.

I remember stepping into the hospital. The main waiting area for visitors had become a makeshift hostel, mattresses all over the floor, Indian men and women sleeping. Sam came out on a stretcher, covered in scrapes, with a casted arm and a scabbed nose that looked like it had been split in half from a fall. He came out almost immediately after we had arrived, and the first thing he said was, "I was eating bugs and drinking piss, bro…" Wow. I quickly pulled out the camera stand, walked up next to him, and gently reminded him he left something at my house, LOL. My accomplishment! "What the hell is this?" he said. We had a good laugh, or at least I did. I was incredibly surprised how clear and compos mentis he was. His eyes were like lasers. Surprising to see such clarity after a wilderness journey.

Lessons from the Mountain

That evening, we recorded his story while it was fresh. I want to share some of my personal insights and his. Sam's survival was more than just luck; it was a profound illustration of revealed miracles and the tangible impact of collective consciousness. Seeing the totality of energy each individual gave, each in their own way, was an absolute gift. It was clear to me that every person's influence directly impacted the outcome. To see so many unite, not giving up hope, was one of the greatest experiences of hope and humanity I've ever witnessed.

I've felt that people's thoughts and prayers impact our reality, but never had I seen it so clearly. We hear so much about the power of positivity, focusing on good, and hoping, but to see such a culmination was literally unbelievable. It was an amazing lesson to me of how much power we each hold in our ability to choose and see what we want, and that along the journey, one should live and hope, never losing hope.

There's a Jewish idea where faith is belief beyond rational thinking. There's belief dependent on facts, then Emuna – faith that goes beyond immediate proof, beyond us. What a blessing to experience and have my perception of the universe, and my belief in the Creator's power, be super-enhanced thanks to Sam, his friends, family, and one power.

Sam's injuries were as follows, making his survival all the more miraculous. Once you see how steep and deadly one wrong step is in the Himalayas, you'll understand how insane it is for him to have trekked from the Laka snowline down the mountain. Sam had a fractured foot, fractured knee, torn ACL and PCL, a clean break through both bones near his right wrist, and a fracture on his arm near his shoulder. Scaling a cliffside with one working limb is beyond belief, adding to the magnitude of this survival story of faith and friendship.

Sam mentioned learning which plants to hold onto while scaling down and which didn't hold. Day after day, he slid down on his backside in areas he couldn't walk or climb. He spoke of mountain plants grabbing him like limbs as he struggled through the forest, grabbing his legs and arms. He said he wasn't that hungry, but knew he must eat when resting, picking off bugs around him: flying ants, caterpillars, maybe a leech? Apparently, his injuries also occurred on the first day when he fell off a rock during extreme fog, with zero visibility, at the trip's start.

Self-love was Sam's message to me. Every step had to be permeated with self-love. No room for self-defeating thoughts while surviving. Everything had to be positive. Step by step, he told me, baby step, little by little, take it slow. (A lesson my grandfather literally tried to teach me as a child). One wrong step, and he would have been done.

Many of us have this mindset, or inability to sit still. We always want to go somewhere, do something, get everything at once. Life is a series of small steps toward our desired direction. It's the social media-fed mindset of grandeur that often leaves us desiring the dream without committing to the small steps. These are incredible lessons for climbing life's mountain. There are ups, downs, and moments requiring different strategies. But ultimately, if we keep believing, thinking positively, staying consistent with efforts, believing in a greater power helping us, and constantly forgiving ourselves while making necessary adjustments, we will reach our destination, against all odds, just as Sam did.

I'm grateful to have been part of this, experienced it, and written this piece from my perspective. Sam is currently recovering in Dharamshala and will soon be released after his knee surgery. May he have a full and speedy recovery.