"For the garden is the only place there is, but you will not find it
Until you have looked for it everywhere and found nowhere
that is not a desert."
Until you have looked for it everywhere and found nowhere
that is not a desert."
--- W.H. Auden, For The Time Being
when i was young, probably around 5 or 6 years old, i remember my dad taking me outside to show me how to fly the new kite he had just purchased. i can't remember if it was my first, but i remember it being a novelty nonetheless. its too long ago to remember all the details, but what i do remember is this: at one point, once he had the kite flying, he opened the driver's side door to our purple waldoch conversion van and wedged the roll of string connected to the kite in between the door frame and the van itself. allegedly, the idea was that it was a place for the string to be "held" while he did something else momentarily. well, placing the roll there did in fact hold the roll in place fine, however the string itself kept unraveling as the kite flew higher and higher into the sky. just as he realized what was happening, he reached for the roll of string only to find an empty cardboard cylinder in his hands as the kite string had quickly unraveled and escaped our reach into the wind swept atmosphere.
this story came to mind when thinking about the year 2006. my life literally felt like that kite string that year. it was unraveling right in front of me, and when i finally tried to reach out and stop the unraveling, i found my hands with basically an empty roll of toilet paper. and all one could do for a time, was watch it disappear into the horizon.
it was in the midst of watching this metaphorical kite fly away, many times feeling powerless to do anything but watch, that i decided to take a trip out west. i needed to get away. i needed solitude. i needed to figure out what it meant for me to regain control of myself... of my life.... even to find myself.
To learn to love
it to be stripped of all love
until you are wholly without love
because
until you have gone
naked and afraid
into this cold dark place
where all love is taken from you
you will not know
that you are wholly within love.
it to be stripped of all love
until you are wholly without love
because
until you have gone
naked and afraid
into this cold dark place
where all love is taken from you
you will not know
that you are wholly within love.
--- Madeleine L'Engle
in my planning, i happened upon articles speaking of colorado's majestic "14ers". a 14er is a mountain that rises more than 14,000 feet above sea level. i had been to colorado countless times, but to date, had never specifically aimed to hike to a mountain top. i had always looked for notable hikes to waterfalls, rivers, lakes, and any other destination that had some form of water.
there was something in my soul that was awakened as i read stories about others making such hikes. there was something about the effort and experience that seemed to speak to my present state of affairs. so without understanding a great deal about what i was getting into, i picked out the tallest mountain in colorado, that being mt. elbert, and decided i was going to hike to the top.
i was so raptured by this upcoming trip. the more i thought about "conquering" something (which is how i looked at it at the time, but have since chosen much more meaningful ways of describing what reaching a summit is like to me), the more alive i felt. having and feeling a sense of empowerment was quite antithetical to what my life had been over the previous 6 months or so. however, the more i read about what i was attempting to accomplish, the more i found out that i was not going at the best time of year, and in fact, the worst time of year. the dates i had set were in mid-april. in the mountains of colorado, spring time is a transitional period between the hardened, wind swept slopes of winter and the snow-free ascents of summer.
spring time temperatures meant one was to expect post holing.... a reality meaning that whether in boot or snowshoe, you end up sinking into the snow with every step because the snow is in a state of melting and thus softened. i was not going to let information like this deter me however. i queried a good friend's father to see if i could borrow his snowshoes, and managed to gather a list of other necessities as i read about the survivalist's "10 essentials" for the first time with increased interest.
eventually, the day came and i made my way to colorado..... alone. i borrowed my father's SUV, packed it with my gear, and headed west with an anticipation that i'd like to believe rivaled any adventurers setting sail for new land.
i arrived in the small town (population 36) of twin lakes to find my "hotel," an ex-brothel, all but deserted. this was actually just fine by me who was traveling for solitude anyway. the owner, charlie, was the only one around and he was only a day away from leaving for a business trip to chicago. when he finally left, he literally ended up handing me the keys for the hotel and told me to remember to lock it up each day when i left. that doesn't happen everyday.
i knew i needed a couple days to acclimate before attempting to summit elbert. acclimatization is an important biological process that takes place where your body adjusts to the decreased amount of oxygen in the air as a result of the altitude. if one tries to do too much activity too soon, you can experience intense headaches, dehydration, and dizziness. and if this occurs at high enough altitude, one can actually get "altitude sickness" which has the capacity to lead to death.
i spent a couple days hiking the rivers in the area, and just getting my body prepared for what lie ahead. i brought along the book, "soul making" (by alan jones) and picked it up here and there while on the trip. i was quickly getting interested in the book as it seemed a perfect match for where i was at in life. the book focuses on the value of solitude, awareness of one's finitude, and a spirituality marked by embrace of suffering and an intentional awareness of one's inevitable death kept at the forefront of the mind.
it was this last idea that really gripped me. so much of life is spent pretending we are not what we are.... namely mortal. so much of life is spent attempting to sugar coat that which could not be more natural. so much of life is spent thinking about the "present" apart from its ultimate context..... carpe diem without consequence.
"To live our life from the point of view of our death is not necessarily a capitulation to despair, to withdrawal, to passivity. Rather, it can become the basis for our being and doing in the world. The more we refuse to look at our own death, the more we repress and deny new possibilities for living. We are all going to die, and our life is a movement to that sure end. [Some] find that meditation on this simple fact has a wonderful way of clearing the mind! It enables them to live every single moment with new appreciation and delight. When I say to myself, "this moment may be my last," I am able to see the world with new eyes."
---- Alan Jones, in "Soul Making" (p. 67)
the night before my summit attempt, i was invited to a "town" dinner which consisted of about 16 people coming together for a pasta dinner at the hotel where i was staying. charlie was known to host such meals for the people living in twin lakes. the night was fantastic as i got to sit amongst long time friends and family laugh and tell stories. i've never had another experience like it.
i was lucky enough to sit next to one of the town's eccentrics named tom. tom had apparently been around longer than the moon. he clearly suffered mental illness to a degree, but in a way that made him all the more fun to listen to and engage in conversation. he spoke very slowly, but intently. his stories were rich with hyperbole and color commentating. he told whimsical stories of climbing elbert with water melons to eat at the top, and inspiring stories of camping at the top to catch the sunrise in the morning from the highest point in all of colorado. he told stories of literally sliding down the mountain (called "glissading") in winter on his butt in less than an hour or so if i remember the story correctly.
when the townspeople found out that i was planning on hiking elbert the next day in snowshoes, they all had advice, as well as caution (and that with a slight smirk here or there, as most knew how crazy it was that i was attempting such non-sense at this time of year.... but keep in mind that this town is a common stopping place for folks who run the leadville 100, which is a 100 mile race by foot through the mountainous terrain of the sawatch.... and this 100 miles is covered in less than 19 hours by the best!!) i could not believe how caring they were. i had this very odd feeling of being surrounded by family. a feeling that is certainly more easily spread when eating with an entire town that literally survives.... together.
i went to bed a little bit more warm because of that evening's dinner.
the next day, i woke up early around 4:30am to prepare for hiking up elbert. i had prepared all my gear the night before, and was ready to go without much effort. the sun was not going to rise above the horizon for another 120 minutes (or something in that ballpark). i hit the trail around 5:30am and turned on my headlamp so that i could see my way along the trail that guided me for the first mile or so of my hike. it was so quiet i remember. it was also dark. its amazing the primal instincts you tap into when walking an alpine trail in the dark with nothing but a narrow shaft of light to guide you through terrain upon which bears live. needless to say, i was not disappointed when the sun began to light my surroundings, and i could shut my headlamp off.
the sawatch range is well known for its long approaches when attempting to hike its 14ers. it is a range that i have fell in love with as its extended base approaches are marked by thick mountain pine forests surrounding your field of view as you hike to the base of the mountain.
once you begin to ascend, the alpine forest remains a close friend of yours until you are in the 12K+ range (in terms of altitude). at this point, you reach what is referred to as "tree line" which means that you have ascended to an altitude so high that the trees no longer have the oxygen they need to survive, and thus no longer are there trees surrounding you. at this benchmark, you are now allowed to see for the first time the world beneath you. there are few experiences like it. when you've been covered underneath the branches of majestic pine trees all morning, its an unforgettable experience to come out of those trees into a field of view that spans for dozens and dozens and dozens of miles into the valley below.
this particular trip was filled with struggle however as i was post holing with each step up the slope of the mountain. even with snowshoes i was sinking into the snow up to my knees (or further in some cases). there was so much emotion going into this climb, and i remember cursing at the top of my lungs as i slowly made my way up the side of the mountain. it was one of my most visceral experiences of cleansing the demons in my soul as i faced myself in utter solitude. no one could hear my screams, the universe was silent, and it all directed my complex emotion.... inward.....
there have not been many experiences in my life where i made the decision to "fall short." and i don't say that arrogantly, but the decision i made that day is meaningful because i had to face this question as i was 3/4 up the great mount elbert. i was beginning to experience headaches, and i was running low on water, and there was absolutely no one on the mountain. i was literally miles from any help if i needed it, and 3000 feet above them. this is partially why everyone in town thought i was crazy because if i so much as sprung an ankle while halfway up the mountain, i could be in big trouble if i couldn't get back down before nightfall. i sort of understood that when i was eating with them, but was hit with its reality in a whole new way as i sat on a rock three thousand feet up the mountainside.
i had never climbed a mountain before, and so i chose to play it safe, as hard as that was. what seemed like throwing away my training, and five hours of grueling snowshoeing up a mountain side is hard to do for someone with pride. but i'm not an idiot, and i remembered the phrase etched in my brain from a book i read before making the trip out here: "it is better to live to climb another mountain than to make a bad decision and never climb again."
so i stared up the mountain for a short time, cried tears coming from all sorts of places within me, and attained the peace i needed about my decision before heading back down.
turning back early that day has done more for me and my respect for the mountain than any sentence read could ever do. and as i hinted above, i change my perspective forever that a mountain was to be "conquered." there are few ways to disrespect the mountain more than holding such a view. on the slope that day, i was humbled. i was torn down by my own inner struggles that i brought to colorado when i traveled here. on this mountainside i was laid bare. and i felt everything breathing around me, whispering to me to "let it go."
let go of the anger i was living with... let go of everything holding back tears from a life turned upside down over the last year.... let go of my desire to conquer as a way to redemption.... let go of my illusion of control... and live......
i felt myself being reborn.......
on that mountain side... i cried hard for a long while. what my book had been speaking of, "the gift of tears" was a gift i experienced for the first time that day. the "gift of tears" is not simply having tears (which i had of course had many times in my life), but a qualitatively intensified form of tears whose fruit is joy. i cannot put into words the peace that washed over me as my death was sitting right in front of me, not as enemy, stranger, or something to be feared.... but friend.
more clear than any other moment in my life, i knew i was going to die.
i made it back down the mountain. that trip back down is my own. but needless to say, i came down a changed man..... through and through. and although i didn't know this at the time, i can easily look back and locate the transformation in hindsight. it was a mountain top experience that occurred just short of the mountain top.
since this trip, i have made it back to colorado and to the top of four 14ers. and every time i have approached the summit, i continue to be washed over by tears that come from places i do not typically have access to internally. so powerful are these summit experiences, where i relive the awakening that took place in my life the first time i attempted to summit elbert.
the metaphor of climbing these majestic mountains is no longer about "conquering" but "finding." ....about "struggle" and about reaching places that one only reaches through pain and belief in oneself. climbing these mountains is an affirmation of all the life inside me, and the depths of strength i now know i have. all of this rests in the arms of the awareness and embracing of my inevitable death. and as alan jones states in his book, this is not that which leads to despair, withdrawal, or passivity..... but rather that which becomes the lens through which you view and engage life, the basis for living and being in the world.
when i got home from this unforgettable trip..... i quickly turned to designing a very simple framed "graphic" i had envisioned while sitting alone in the hotel in the small town of twin lakes. i printed it out, framed it, and placed it above my bed. to this day, the frame sits next to my bed. its really no graphic at all.... for on the all white background is nothing but perhaps the most fundamental truth:
---- Alan Jones, in "Soul Making" (p. 67)
the night before my summit attempt, i was invited to a "town" dinner which consisted of about 16 people coming together for a pasta dinner at the hotel where i was staying. charlie was known to host such meals for the people living in twin lakes. the night was fantastic as i got to sit amongst long time friends and family laugh and tell stories. i've never had another experience like it.
i was lucky enough to sit next to one of the town's eccentrics named tom. tom had apparently been around longer than the moon. he clearly suffered mental illness to a degree, but in a way that made him all the more fun to listen to and engage in conversation. he spoke very slowly, but intently. his stories were rich with hyperbole and color commentating. he told whimsical stories of climbing elbert with water melons to eat at the top, and inspiring stories of camping at the top to catch the sunrise in the morning from the highest point in all of colorado. he told stories of literally sliding down the mountain (called "glissading") in winter on his butt in less than an hour or so if i remember the story correctly.
when the townspeople found out that i was planning on hiking elbert the next day in snowshoes, they all had advice, as well as caution (and that with a slight smirk here or there, as most knew how crazy it was that i was attempting such non-sense at this time of year.... but keep in mind that this town is a common stopping place for folks who run the leadville 100, which is a 100 mile race by foot through the mountainous terrain of the sawatch.... and this 100 miles is covered in less than 19 hours by the best!!) i could not believe how caring they were. i had this very odd feeling of being surrounded by family. a feeling that is certainly more easily spread when eating with an entire town that literally survives.... together.
i went to bed a little bit more warm because of that evening's dinner.
the next day, i woke up early around 4:30am to prepare for hiking up elbert. i had prepared all my gear the night before, and was ready to go without much effort. the sun was not going to rise above the horizon for another 120 minutes (or something in that ballpark). i hit the trail around 5:30am and turned on my headlamp so that i could see my way along the trail that guided me for the first mile or so of my hike. it was so quiet i remember. it was also dark. its amazing the primal instincts you tap into when walking an alpine trail in the dark with nothing but a narrow shaft of light to guide you through terrain upon which bears live. needless to say, i was not disappointed when the sun began to light my surroundings, and i could shut my headlamp off.
the sawatch range is well known for its long approaches when attempting to hike its 14ers. it is a range that i have fell in love with as its extended base approaches are marked by thick mountain pine forests surrounding your field of view as you hike to the base of the mountain.
once you begin to ascend, the alpine forest remains a close friend of yours until you are in the 12K+ range (in terms of altitude). at this point, you reach what is referred to as "tree line" which means that you have ascended to an altitude so high that the trees no longer have the oxygen they need to survive, and thus no longer are there trees surrounding you. at this benchmark, you are now allowed to see for the first time the world beneath you. there are few experiences like it. when you've been covered underneath the branches of majestic pine trees all morning, its an unforgettable experience to come out of those trees into a field of view that spans for dozens and dozens and dozens of miles into the valley below.
this particular trip was filled with struggle however as i was post holing with each step up the slope of the mountain. even with snowshoes i was sinking into the snow up to my knees (or further in some cases). there was so much emotion going into this climb, and i remember cursing at the top of my lungs as i slowly made my way up the side of the mountain. it was one of my most visceral experiences of cleansing the demons in my soul as i faced myself in utter solitude. no one could hear my screams, the universe was silent, and it all directed my complex emotion.... inward.....
there have not been many experiences in my life where i made the decision to "fall short." and i don't say that arrogantly, but the decision i made that day is meaningful because i had to face this question as i was 3/4 up the great mount elbert. i was beginning to experience headaches, and i was running low on water, and there was absolutely no one on the mountain. i was literally miles from any help if i needed it, and 3000 feet above them. this is partially why everyone in town thought i was crazy because if i so much as sprung an ankle while halfway up the mountain, i could be in big trouble if i couldn't get back down before nightfall. i sort of understood that when i was eating with them, but was hit with its reality in a whole new way as i sat on a rock three thousand feet up the mountainside.
i had never climbed a mountain before, and so i chose to play it safe, as hard as that was. what seemed like throwing away my training, and five hours of grueling snowshoeing up a mountain side is hard to do for someone with pride. but i'm not an idiot, and i remembered the phrase etched in my brain from a book i read before making the trip out here: "it is better to live to climb another mountain than to make a bad decision and never climb again."
so i stared up the mountain for a short time, cried tears coming from all sorts of places within me, and attained the peace i needed about my decision before heading back down.
turning back early that day has done more for me and my respect for the mountain than any sentence read could ever do. and as i hinted above, i change my perspective forever that a mountain was to be "conquered." there are few ways to disrespect the mountain more than holding such a view. on the slope that day, i was humbled. i was torn down by my own inner struggles that i brought to colorado when i traveled here. on this mountainside i was laid bare. and i felt everything breathing around me, whispering to me to "let it go."
let go of the anger i was living with... let go of everything holding back tears from a life turned upside down over the last year.... let go of my desire to conquer as a way to redemption.... let go of my illusion of control... and live......
i felt myself being reborn.......
on that mountain side... i cried hard for a long while. what my book had been speaking of, "the gift of tears" was a gift i experienced for the first time that day. the "gift of tears" is not simply having tears (which i had of course had many times in my life), but a qualitatively intensified form of tears whose fruit is joy. i cannot put into words the peace that washed over me as my death was sitting right in front of me, not as enemy, stranger, or something to be feared.... but friend.
more clear than any other moment in my life, i knew i was going to die.
Whoever can weep over himself for one hour is greater than
the one who is able to teach the whole world; whoever recognizes the
depth of his frailty is greater than the one who sees visions
of angels.
--- Isaac of Ninive
since this trip, i have made it back to colorado and to the top of four 14ers. and every time i have approached the summit, i continue to be washed over by tears that come from places i do not typically have access to internally. so powerful are these summit experiences, where i relive the awakening that took place in my life the first time i attempted to summit elbert.
the metaphor of climbing these majestic mountains is no longer about "conquering" but "finding." ....about "struggle" and about reaching places that one only reaches through pain and belief in oneself. climbing these mountains is an affirmation of all the life inside me, and the depths of strength i now know i have. all of this rests in the arms of the awareness and embracing of my inevitable death. and as alan jones states in his book, this is not that which leads to despair, withdrawal, or passivity..... but rather that which becomes the lens through which you view and engage life, the basis for living and being in the world.
...In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain....
---- T.S. Eliot, from The Wasteland
when i got home from this unforgettable trip..... i quickly turned to designing a very simple framed "graphic" i had envisioned while sitting alone in the hotel in the small town of twin lakes. i printed it out, framed it, and placed it above my bed. to this day, the frame sits next to my bed. its really no graphic at all.... for on the all white background is nothing but perhaps the most fundamental truth:
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