I set out...

I set out on an epic journey.

The city is in my rear view mirror and my bag is packed with all bare necessities.

I arrive after what seems like eons at the side of the road, next to a creek that has no official name.

My own presence strikes me like a heavy blow at the sound of my door slamming as I leave the comfort of my automobile and enter a space that is infinitely bigger than myself – where my thoughts, like the wind, wisp past me into nothingness.

I begin up the worn animal trail into the forest towards a peak I cannot yet see. After 2 long hours the fresh reviving scent of pine has become commonplace and the feeling of dirt beneath my feet becomes boring. I no longer notice the changing path and strange distant sounds. I don’t even notice the path getting smaller until it is gone and I am left to navigate without the help of autumn herds that once journeyed here – I now step out onto a path that I must create alone. I can taste the salty goodness of things to come.

But alas, the taste in my mouth reminds me also that the greatest test of faith remains ahead. I now find myself being whipped in the face with branches and bushes and tall green grasses – I stumble across fallen ancient trees like fallen forgotten soldiers. I clumsily make noises that nature rejects – wailing birds and squeaking squirrels protest my  destruction of their once harmonious space. Logs crack and shoes scrape along jagged rocks and crispy leaves. When will the mountain come? It should be here by now. I find myself in a state of doubt – maybe I’ve gone the wrong way? Maybe I should go back, maybe I should check the map – maybe I’ve messed the whole thing up – and to the worst thought of all – maybe I hate this – I want to go home and watch tv – I’m tired and I’m not sure I believe in the peak anymore. My skin is hurting from scratches and scrapes and bug bites – strange bushes rub my legs and make them burn – I cannot find my footing here – I’m too tall, too stiff, too dumb to go on.

But my fear and anxiety push me until I can feel the warmth surging through my veins – my lungs beat me into submission – I cannot stop – up and up and up I go – kicking ass and taking names of trees that don’t fascinate me and branches that don’t threaten me. I hate this forest and I want to be rid of all the nonsense that once promised good things to me.

Finally! I notice the trees are getting skinnier – I can fit my hands around them – they’re tiny and very close together – I must weave my way through now – and I can feel the soil is much shallower – hard mountainy rock is right under my foot. As I step now, I hear the high pitch squeal of shale – I’m not in the forest anymore. I feel the sun hit my face and send shivers down into my bones –  I remember that I am alone. I remember that I can’t hear traffic or aeroplanes or bear bells in the distance. I’m all by myself now – there are no deer or squirrels in this place. I’m on the rocky face of an unnamed mountain and the peak is in sight – ominous and magnificent.

The truth is so simple – once you wade through superstitious orthodoxies – once words stop slashing at my legs and whipping my face – once doctrines and dogmas begin slipping out of sight and the now uninhibited wind has free access to my entire being – now I feel myself getting closer to true religion. I’m no longer looking at each footstep hoping not to make the wrong noises or meet the wrong friends – now I am free to reach and strain for what’s ahead – there is nothing to doubt. Sure, there are big steps and dangerous ledges – wrong footing remains a concern – but the path is clear now – go up. So up I go. The sting in my muscles is utterly delicious. With each step I am closer to the top – the wind is overwhelming and the view is demanding hat I take it in, but not yet! I tell the panorama - not yet – I cannot look just yet! As I reach my arms to pull myself up one last time, I close my eyes, sit down and take a deep breath. Now I can open my eyes and see.

A long raspy wow growls up from the depths of my being. Theosis – divinity –  truth. My brain doesn’t understand the vastness of the world my eyes behold – millions of tiny mountains as far as the eye can see – and nothing else. Mountains that make me look like a speck of dust that have been here since before any human in all of history ever breathed – mountains older than Moses – older than thoughts. Mountains that will remain even after I am dead and have turned to dust – Mountains that will remain even after one hundred generations have come and become dust.  

I build a fire and consider staying forever but I know this is not possible. I must climb down back through the itchy trees and into dark forests – back towards the sound of cars on gravel and into my stupid red car. When I arrive,  I turn the ignition while the door is still open – the loud beeping noise of mechanical reminders tells me I am about to leave my home and return to a prison cell of computers and suburban churches and empty words.