Interestingly, the act of hiking up a mountain never feels like a doing thing; rather it feels like I am immersed in something that is bigger than me – as though something beautiful is taking over. I feel myself in the midst of this grand and beautiful thing – a part of it really. I feel my emotions of weariness, achievement, exhaustion, elation, but those feelings are all part of something bigger.
Hiking up a mountain makes me part of something. This is where I lose myself and ego diminishes. I don’t think it disappears completely. It would be heavenly if it did. But ego is too strong to vanish. However, it does move to a place of background noise. Beauty takes over.
Beauty is such a powerful force. I don’t think we give it enough credit. The greatest beauty we can experience is in nature. Artists have been striving to emulate this beauty forever and sometimes, they come close. When a painter creates a scene of beauty and adds his own feelings to it – raw, hard emotions – he comes so close. And yet, nothing I have seen, can top the glory of a sunset over mountaintops, painting the sky in oranges, reds, crimsons and purple or a pink and blue dawn. Witnessing those moments gives true meaning to my life.
Beauty, for me, is a manifestation of quality – both elusive concepts because they require a subject and an object to meet. Together they create quality and beauty. Together the subject and object create the experience of love – beauty and quality in their purest forms.
Is it any wonder I am swooning with joy that I am going up Flower Ridge tomorrow? It’s probably not the most beautiful place on the island – I doubt I have seen the most beautiful yet – and “most” also has a habit of changing season to season and mood to mood. But what I do know is that it is a place of beauty that speaks to me, lifts me and gives me wings.
Tomorrow I fly.