the way that the river seemed to cleanse my soul, as if literally running through my cells, washing away the silt of stress and fatigue, leaving me feel fresh and alive. I sit here, next to an unstoked fire, in the same campground and am amused and amazed by a different experience this year.
I am happy to reconnect to the lovely little river that whispered renewal into my bones last year, but this year I am astounded by the mountains themselves. I’ve been to the mountains dozens of times in my life, but much to my delight, this year my experience of them feels fresh – as if I’m experiencing them for the first time.
In the past, I remember feeling overwhelmed by their majesty. I distinctly trying to comprehend their enormity and in this effort to comprehend them, missed them entirely. This year rather than trying to comprehend their existence in a cognitive way I feel them. I feel their enormity and my relative infinitesimal size as a feeling in my body – humility washes over me and I am relieved to be small and held in the deep security of the cradle of their vast valleys. I walk these valleys with tiny steps, hoping that each time I place my foot upon the earth it vibrates reverence, and that somehow the greatness that surrounds me feels that.
I know I wrote at some point about the importance of being affected by life – to not just meet life through a cognitive lens but to be moved by it. I am blessed to be moved by grand, immovable titans this year and to feel both smaller and more expansive because of it. I am in the mountains, and the mountains have made their way into me – penetrating any illusions of enormity my ego may have held and breaking it down to size. And, here I rest, really rest, in humble reconnection to something much bigger than my small self could ever imagine itself to be.
