In the Camel Market outside Marrakech, I was both a participant and an observer. The exacting work of the American film crew only magnified the feelings that had begun to well up inside me, their business-like precision playing counterpoint to the chaotic, intense scene in the loud, dusty Market where Arabs and Berbers, sweating in their rancid wool robes, plied their trade. The ready-made scene had a natural soundtrack, too -- an odd symphony of brass bells, the flat alto braying of donkeys, and camels coughing and barking like baritone drunks. In the 100 degree heat, I listened to the director explain the sequence of shots while the make up artist tried to keep my make up fresh with more powder to soak up the perspiration. But my thoughts were totally absorbed in a more striking, interior scene.

I was thinking about Siddhartha, the Herman Hess story about a young man who rejected his comfortable life in search of greater meaning and purpose. My studies in comparative religion and various spiritual/metaphysical teachings were beginning to take hold as I saw myself that day. I took an inventory. The clothes I wore were not mine. My hair was freshly cut and styled for the film image. I wondered, what is there of me in here? Even my thoughts were not my own. What did I know? The connections I had begun to make through my athletic adventures were demanding more of me.

Fifty miles in the distance loomed the snow-capped High Atlas Mountains which cut through southern Morocco. The vast Sahara Desert spilled out on the other side. Taking in the entire scene, I knew that something out there was calling me. I wondered what I would find. Perhaps if I sat under a Bodhi tree like the Buddha, or walked over the mountains and through the desert for forty days and nights as Jesus had done, I would discover the answers to the questions that, on this day, seemed immense and important.

One year later I returned to the camel market and soon thereafter, carried out my vision quest against the advice of practically everyone I knew. They warned that I would be killed either by Berbers -- the fierce inhabitants of the land -- or wild animals, or the rugged terrain and severe weather. Nevertheless, I purchased a donkey to help carry my supplies and took off. For three weeks I journeyed like a Berber, traveling alone on foot across the mountains and through the punishing desert terrain, covering over 300 miles. Often hungry and thirsty, I was determined to maintain the traditional Moslem fast of Ramadan with its simple rules of no eating, drinking water, smoking or sex from sunrise to sunset. My own monsters kept me company, as well as those I was forced to encounter in the environment. When I reached the end of my journey and in my hotel room finally looked into a full-length mirror, I didn't recognize my body. I was lean; I looked weak, but I felt strong. The shocking sight of this new physique brought up all kinds of emotions. What happened to my body? Tears of loss became tears of joy as I recognized a healing transformation had taken place. I had acquired a profound, new inner strength. I felt reborn.

A vision quest is a radical means of getting in touch with one's deepest self by eliminating the familiar distractions of daily living and venturing out into the unknown. It is a spiritual adventure of the purest sort. As a Native American tradition, young men were sent into the wilderness alone and without provisions for a period of time to test their bravery and connections with nature; tribal leaders merged with the isolation of the desert in order to listen intently to the guidance they believed they would hear.

The serious vision quest initiate takes only the barest of necessities -- perhaps a water bottle and a knife -- and returns days later with greater understanding of the self and one's place in the world, freed from whatever issues, problems and dilemmas were uppermost in his life prior to it.

Even now, adventure travel companies and organizations that lead tours to sacred places around the globe offer various versions of a vision quest experience from mild to fairly intense. From a few days to as many as a dozen or more, one can have the experience of being alone in the desert in the southwest United States, sleeping under the stars, keeping company with none other than one's own thoughts. A fasting regimen is often part of the experience so that the physical body can be cleansed and renewed.

Many back-packers, hikers and trekkers know the lessons of the experience. Now and then the media reports the story of a lone person who, desperate to get back in touch with the richness in life, takes off on foot or bicycle to cross the country in search of the people, places and stories that will nourish his soul. Without a doubt, a genuine vision quest is a life-changing experience.

For the modern spiritual adventurer, setting aside the radio, television, fax, laptop computer and cellular phone for a week may be a good beginning to a vision quest. Instead of daily commuting, one does daily communing with the natural world, inviting the true self to express itself without the noise and pressures of daily responsibilities. Retreat centers all across the country offer modest lodging, simple meals, and plenty of time to be alone in nature. While this approach doesn't test life survival skills, it will most likely evoke essential inner responses that seem new and vibrant. Ironically, retreating into the quiet of the self to let the soul speak is perhaps the antidote to Thoreau's often quoted commentary that "most men lead lives of quiet desperation."

Form a question that relates to a big issue in your life. Perhaps you are considering a major change such as marriage, divorce, or parenthood; or transplanting yourself in a different part of the country; or looking for a new profession that will satisfy parts of yourself you only rarely glimpse, but now feel compelled to explore and express. It may be that you sense a new spiritual depth is now available to you, and you wish to ignite it with a meaningful experience in solitude. Or you are interested in adding another dimension to a regimen of fasting and meditation that you've been experimenting with. Your intention for a vision quest should be to grasp new truths, inviting clarity, honesty and an open heart to show you a future filled with unimagined possibilities.

Option One: On the most basic level, make a commitment to remove yourself from everything that is a reminder of your daily routines for a minimum of one day. If you aren't fasting, pack a light lunch and visit a nearby state park. Ask park rangers to suggest a way to hike or walk their best trails for an entire day in relative solitude. Take along a notebook for capturing insights that surface. If you can afford the time, spend the night in a cabin, tent, or under the stars in your sleeping bag. Don't take books, a radio, or anything else that might distract you from getting in touch with your own inner guidance.

Option Two: If you are an experienced camper, add more days to your experience, and have your vision quest in a location you've never visited. For safety considerations, invite a friend to join you and make plans to meet up with them at several points during the adventure. If you establish a campsite together, agree to have meals in silence.

Option Three: You may feel ready to have "the real thing" -- a week or more in the wilderness. Contact travel resources and investigate your options thoroughly. Talk to others who have participated in their wilderness adventures where the vision quest experience is the primary objective. If you already possess basic survival skills and are fairly confident, choose your location accordingly. Go for it. This is not about sending postcards to your friends and family back home. This is about having a peak experience -- transformation through adventure.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Joseph Campbell