Thursday, July 09, 2009

I was listening to the words of the poet Jim Harrison today. (Would like to get his book of poetry, 'in search of small gods' for my upcoming trip to Africa.


He talked about getting older, of boiling down your life, to it's very essence, much as a cook would boil down the broth, to it's bare flavorful essential self. All the fluff in life becomes less important.

I've often spoke of climbing a glacier, alone, in the middle of the night. Just me, the stars, and the silence, except for the sound of a slight breeze, and the rhythmic crunch of the crampons on the hardened snow. In one sense, feeling so small and insignificant, but never feeling more alive and complete, as my total self is concentrated into a single moment of being, without all the external noise of me having to scream out into the world, "This is me! This is me!", seeking some empty identity in the void.

I've come to bemoan Facebook, Twitter, Blogs, etc.. It often seems that way. People crying out for a connection in some digital world. "This is me! This is me!" When the secret is being more alone, more alone than you've ever been, lost, meaningless on a darkened glacier. Then, and only then, finding connection to the eternal.

Hiking with Robby and Robin on July 4, up to camp Muir on Mt. Rainier. Not quite alone, but close enough to the heavens....