I walked into the Mohave Desert on a gorgeous day, minding my own business. Suddenly, there was a big fat Mojave Green rattlesnake directly in front of me. And I had almost stepped on him! No one around for miles and this could be a painful, slow death. My heart was beating to pop out of my chest, my brow had broken into a sweat, I was paralyzed by fear. But then, and I don’t know how it happened, my eyes began to focus: I dared another glance at the snake—and miraculously, I saw: It’s a rope! That snake is a rope! Well, I fell to the ground and began to laugh, cry, and to just take it in. I even had to poke it. What had happened? I knew one thing: I was safe. I knew that I could stand over that rope for a thousand years and never be frightened of it again. I felt such gratitude and ease. The entire world could come upon this snake, scream, run away, have heart attacks, scare themselves to death—and I could just remain here fearlessly, and pass on the good news. I would understand people’s fears, see their pain, hear their stories about why it really is a snake, and yet there would be no way that I could believe them or be frightened of that rope. I had fallen into the simple truth: That snake is a rope.