Openness and Observation

[These are 100% my thoughts and my writing. AI did NOT assist in the authoring, just the image above.]

"When open, there is no obstruction; when calm, there is no desire. When openness is complete and calmness profound, observe the process of nature and know its cycles." - The Book of Balance and Harmony

This past weekend, I celebrated my birthday, as I have for 27 years...in the woods.

This year, I was solo for the first time in 13 years.

While I absolutely love adventuring with my family, there's something magical about being in the wilderness with yourself, your thoughts, your feelings, your spirit...and the Universe.

Some 27 years ago, my step grandfather took me on a climbing trip to Donner Pass, where I slept under the stars (literally, no tent) for the first time in my life. The experience changed my life and my commitment to outdoor recreation (re-creation). I vowed that night, as I tears of awe streamed down my cheeks, that I would always spend my birthday in the wilderness to reclaim my wildness.

I have been incredibly fortunate not to break that vow, although at times the vow had to accept what was possible (namely Marine Corps exercises/deployments that still met the spirit of the vow). Once, I stayed in a rental vehicle in a National Forest just outside of Redmond, WA and went back to my hotel early the following morning to get a quick shower before an executive briefing on Microsoft's campus, the closest I ever came to missing my commitment to myself.

"In Wildness is the preservation of the World." —"Walking" Henry David Thoreau

As I was hiking amongst the high-country scrub and scree, around 12,000 ft of elevation, I found myself in awe, yet again.

The bluebird Colorado skies seemed peaceful, yet the whipping winds were anything but.

The pikas chirped and scampered, as I watched their neighbors squeal their concerns about the stranger strolling through their home.

For me, my annual retreat to the wilderness is the way I reset, restore, and ultimately preserve my soul. I'm reminded of the wildness within, the awesome powers and responsibilities of humans on our planet. I'm reminded that I can and will survive hardships. I'm reminded that I am unique, special...and yet, the same and as ordinary as every other sentient being on this giant flying rock we call home.

Occasionally, I would look ahead to one of the notorious false summits of the Colorado alpine terrain, or down to the valleys with their patchwork of trees, marshes, ranches, roads, and other signs of human impact, which served as a reminder that the journey is never as short as you might think and even the most remote places aren't that far away from civilization and domestication, the taming of the wild lands and the wild within all of us.

I felt tremendous gratitude for being alone in such a beautiful place, for having a body that could take me there, and for the layers of technically advanced clothing that I donned and stowed frequently, in an attempt to regulate my temperature.

I felt tremendous gratitude for the little boy from Jacksonville, FL who fell in love with John Elway's Denver Broncos, that weird International Scout II with the mountainous Colorado license plates parked across from my house that stoked my Colorado curiosity, the "Sleeper House" in Genessee that tugged at my love for the Jetson's, the phenomenal skiing in Vail - all the tastes of Colorful Colorado that ultimately led a young adult me to an internship in Boulder, followed by a succession of jobs that allowed me to stay in, or ultimately return to, the Front Range.

I felt, with every cell of my body, gratitude for the dedication that this 47-year-old man had to that little boy's dream as he journeyed from boyhood to manhood.

I've been blessed with 47 years on this planet, with some phenomenal humans. I could feel my connection with everything in my sight and those beyond my comprehension. Just as I have had many life-orienting interactions with people, places, and times that directed my path, I'm sure that I've influenced others, which has ripple effects as well. And, will any of it matter in a generation, seven generations, or when there are no more human generations?

Sitting with the view pictured above before me, I was open, calm, free of desires, and observing the process of nature's cycles. I could see the Pikas gathering food for the impending winter, the last of the wildflowers before they get blanketed with snow, the aspens beginning to change color below, the deterioration of an old mine shaft, the crumbling rocks of the eroding mountain on which I sat, and those in the distance, which are eroding from the harsh Colorado alpine weather. I was witness to multiple time scales simultaneously, these processes playing out in seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades...eons...and I was deeply humbled, terrifically calmed by the profundity of the awe inducing sights before me.

In that open and calm, I felt peace, and I was reminded that the moment is what matters. We have such little time to enjoy this life, that we must remember the personal importance of being present with an appreciation for the gift that is life.

Yes, we are special, and yet we are not.