The vast majority of the work is dirty, sweaty, and decidedly unglamorous. This rings true of my spiritual walk as well. While there are mountain-top moments of transcendence, they are strung together with much longer-lasting periods of absolute mundanity. The trick is to find what is mystical about the mundane. To try to find the blessings which are buried in the humdrum.
Big journeys are more like spirals than linear paths. Spirals leading inward, into the unseen recesses of ourselves, through the terrain of past experiences that have formed us. We encounter lessons we may have “learned” before, but each time we return to a painful fact about ourselves, or others, or the world–we do so with more wisdom, more nuance and perspective.
Blistering gales of wind grated against my already frayed nerves as I gained and lost maddening amounts of elevation between 12,000-13,000 feet. I don’t usually consider wind to be an unpleasant experience but I have found that there are few sensations more vexing than relentless winds at high altitudes. Despite the winds, the San Juans Mountains north of Silverton–segments 23 and 24 of the Colorado Trail–were some of the most magnificent miles I have ever hiked.
We stared at each other for an indefinite stretch of time, until finally, he turned toward the lake, and plunged into the water with a couple of powerful paces. I sat there, watching the moose bathe and swim together. I watched as the sinking sun set the mountain tops ablaze before shrinking behind a stone outcropping. The waning crescent moon followed, arching over the rocky abode of the lakes and all the creatures that dwelt there. I waited patiently as the blue veil above turned lilac, then violet, thinning until it revealed the stars. They twinkled vigorously, pleased to be released from where they glint and gleam all day in secret.
I was poised at the edge of sleep but awake enough to discern the songs of winged insects when another sound came into my consciousness. The rasp of labored breathing, at first barely audible, gave way to the ragged gasps of respiratory distress. My senses sharpened, eyes snapping open, and I realized the noise was Matt struggling to draw breath as he lay beside me.
There was something magnificent about that storm. Although I was drenched and battered by hail, internally I felt balanced and sturdy. The past 48 hours had been a series of knocks and shocks, but I had managed to absorb them with grace and gratitude. One of the miraculous elements of thru-hiking, I suppose, is learning that you’re capable of so much more than you had imagined. The irony of this is that those revelations were not always admirable. I had learned a great deal about my own capacity for avoidance, duplicity, and selfishness.
This post was originally published on The Trek, which you can find here. July 24 It rained relentlessly. I was happy to have a reason to explore the parts of my brain that delight in doing difficult things and spent most of the day in silence. The backs of my legs collected thick brown mud […]
This post was originally published on The Trek, which you can find here. July 21st I relish the epicurean sense of indulgence that follows deprivation and asceticism. Backpacking is gratifying, intensely introspective, and demanding on many different levels. It is relieving to counterbalance that mode of being with moments of playfulness or outright hedonism. To […]
The decommissioned firehouse at the end of Joseph Court is marked by an atmosphere of modest California charm and the slow simmer of creeping insanity. The firehouse itself blends unremarkably into the culdesac’s collection of low lying stucco motels and nondescript businesses. Cream colored whites and dreamsicle oranges evoke the arid serenity of the desert […]
“The personification of the natural is exactly the tendency I wish to suppress in myself, to eliminate for good. I am here not only to evade for a while the clamor and filth and confusion of the cultural apparatus but also to confront, immediately and directly if it’s possible, the bare bones of existence, the […]
IsabellaZHall 