The Mining Train: A Spiritual Exercise

Reading Time: 5 minutes

By Michael Avery

I had the great pleasure and also the great misfortune of growing up at a quicksilver mine my father operated. With fifty-plus acres of hills, meadows, streams, ponds, wild strawberries, and ample wildlife, it was an idyllic place for a boy to live.

However, quicksilver, also known as mercury, is extremely toxic. The liquid metal that I often held in my hands turned out to be something other than a fun toy, as health issues later in life would prove. But this article is about a different memory from the “Bonanza Mine”—one that involves an old mining train and how it engendered a useful spiritual exercise. 

Buss Conn drove the mining train that hauled waste rock from the mine to a disposal site a thousand feet away. My four-year-old friend, Jimmy, and I would wait for the lights of the train to appear at the mouth of the tunnel. We would run to a wide area safely off the tracks and wave to Buss, who would stop and  let us ride with him out to the end of the track. After Buss had dumped the seven cars of “slag,” we would ride back with him to the entrance to the mine, where he would let us off since we weren’t allowed to go into the damp, mostly-dark mine.

Buss was a fairly large man with a kind heart and a tedious job, making run after run from the mine to the waste rock site. He always met us with a smile. I remember sitting next to Jimmy on the cushioned seat listening to the clickety-clack sound of the metal wheels grinding over rusty tracks on our way to the slag pile.

These memories of Buss and the old mining train returned to me with a message for this present time. When a memory returns, I generally look for a metaphor—what does waste rock have to do with my current thoughts or the present focus of my life, for example? Recently, I had carried on a conversation with someone about “dumping” outdated beliefs and emotional baggage.

“What can I ‘dump’ or let go of that would improve my current conditions or, better yet, my spiritual life?” I asked myself. That’s when the memory of the mining train returned with a message about letting go. It was no coincidence.

When we release things from our past such as guilt, fear, blame, judgment, sadness, trauma, anger, etc., we experience a new buoyancy or lightness. When some emotions of guilt, fear, and limiting judgments came to the surface recently, I decided to call upon Buss Conn and the old mining train for assistance. Please feel free to use the following spiritual exercise or alter it as you like.

The Spiritual Exercise

Buss Conn’s train appears at the mouth the mine with cars laden with waste rock, all except for the first car. It’s empty. Now that I’m all grown up, am I permitted to go down into the mine? I wonder. Do I even want to? What’s really down there? 

As Buss stops, he jumps down off the train and gives me a big warm hug. No, wait, it’s not Buss, it is my Inner Teacher dressed in the same tan shirt and matching slacks as Buss Conn used to wear.

“I see that you’re ready to dump some slag today, Michael, some karma that you no longer need,” he says. 

Behind the engine, I notice an empty train car. All the other cars are piled high with waste rock taken from the mine. “I’ve reserved the first car for you,” the Inner Teacher replies. “Anything too heavy for you to lift, please let me know, and I will give you a hand.” He steps back and nods, my signal to begin loading the car (and unloading my concerns, cares, and emotional baggage that I no longer want or need). 

I carefully focus my attention on each one to insure that all the lessons the experience holds have been learned and fully integrated into my beingness. After ten minutes, I’m surprised to see how full the car has become.

“Okay,” the Inner Teacher calls, “hop aboard and we’ll dump this load at the end of the track.”

It feels good to see the extra baggage and worries that I’ve been unnecessarily carrying for some time tumble down the slag pile and disappear at the bottom in a cloud of golden Light and Sound. The ride back is so much brighter and lighter. But there is one dark rock remaining in the car that I was unable to dump, one with red and black flecks of anger. I sang HU, the ancient name for the Creator, and asked for guidance.

The Blast Furnace

Without going into detail, an acquaintance from high school owned an auto repair shop. After an accident, I gave “Joey” some money upfront to buy parts and paint. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to buy drugs that he badly needed, more so than car parts and paint. He hid my car and gave any number of excuses why the repair lingered on and on.

Finally, after many frustrating months, I picked up the yet unfinished car and drove it to another shop where they repaired it in two weeks’ time.

Years passed, and the frustration was forgotten. But there was residual anger embedded in the waste rock that I still carried with me. How could I extract the anger and resentment? The Inner Teacher suggested a solution which involved a rock crusher and a blast furnace.

Mercury is extracted from a rock called cinnabar. The waste rock surrounding the cinnabar is hauled off the the slag pile. After crushing the cinnabar, the  fine powder is shoveled into a blast furnace where extremely high heat frees the mercury from the rock.

With this process in mind, the Inner Teacher led me to a large, noisy rock crusher. He then helped me gather all the details of my incident with Joey and toss them into the crusher. My stomach churned as the process continued for several minutes.

The next and final step was to load the crushed rock, known as “Unresolved Karmic Lessons,” into the blast furnace. The heat was tremendous. The fire was white hot. My mind was ablaze with new revelations and understandings.

Within the Light and Sound, I could see my past incarnations spread out on the time track. The Inner Teacher pointed to a lifetime when I had taken other people’s money and used it for my own pleasure rather than following through on my promises to deliver goods. 

In this current life, I suddenly realized that Joey was actually doing me a favor by hiding my car and “not delivering” on his promise to repair it. He was helping me understand and feel what others had felt when I’d done the same to them so long ago. Perhaps Joey was even among that group. Knowing the precision of the Law of Cause and Effect, I suspect this is so. 

Now, I knew the whole story. I could see inside the furnace how the cinnabar was letting go of its grip on the quicksilver within it. In similar fashion, by understanding why I had attracted the incident with Joey, I could forgive him for his actions and release the anger and resentment I had been holding onto so tightly.

Spiritual exercises work best for me when I can involve all of my senses, such as the light and heat from the blast furnace and the sound of the train with its metal wheels grinding over the rusty metal rails. Mostly, my memories come to visit with “easy to dump” waste rock. However, for those issues and incidents with strong emotions wrapped around them, it is necessary to ask the Inner Teacher to escort me to the rock crusher and blast furnace. 

As we returned to the mine, the Inner Teacher stopped the train just outside the portal. He turned to me with a question as I was about to step down from the engine car.

“You know,” he said, “you’re welcome to ride along. You’re allowed to go inside the mine now.”

I looked long and hard at the damp, dark tunnel. Deep down, I knew that something disturbing was waiting for me far underground, in one of the side tunnels. 

As I jumped down from the train, I thanked the Inner Teacher for his help and his generous offer. I managed a smile.

“No yet,” I called up to him…“But soon.”