Archived Entry from April 20 2005

"Adventure of the less than mystical tree"

I picked up a job renovating a log-home in Maple Ridge.  The work didn't bother me but when I woke up one morning I knew there was somewhere else I needed to be.  It was a nice day out and I had trouble ignoring it.  As I got ready for work, there was something about this day that called out.  It was without works, but spoke to the deeper places in me.  Without a voice it was convincing me to go into the wilderness to search for something.  I didn't know what it was but it promised I would recognize it when I saw it.
Without explaining to anyone where I was going or what I was doing, I took a "personal day" off work and drove east to an area past bridal falls. I picked a random mountain that had a good feeling to it and set off to explore it.  I was going to do whatever it took to satisfy what I felt was being required of me.  The mountain I chose had a waterfall that I could follow up or down to keep from losing my bearing and getting lost.
It was refreshing and exciting at first.  To escape the routine, the grind.  No one around.  No expectations.  No judgments.  Just you and more wilderness than you'll ever be able to find the end of.  A good place to finally hear yourself think and get to the heart of what's going on inside.
As time wore on and the hike began to get more challenging, the questions started to come up.  "What are you doing here...?"  I didn't have an answer, but the urge in me was the answer in its own.  "It will make sense when you get there" it whispered.
Before long the hiking became climbing and I was traversing dangerous surfaces.  Most often it is easier climbing up than it is down and I began dreading the thought of the return trip.  I forced those thoughts out of my mind though.  I had enough to worry about in the present.  I had to stay focused, keep to my mission or I would surely wind up hurt.  In some points I had to run across loose sheets of layers of rocks that created a kind of avalanches when you disturbed them.  If my momentum didn't carry, I would fall a good distance.  I was determined, but I wasn't conquering the mountain.  It seemed to be getting bigger and bigger and I wasn't finding or settling anything.  I had hoped that at the top of the waterfall there was a wellspring or something, but all I was getting was endless and senseless climbing.
Eventually I saw a lone tree in the distance that stood out unusually.  For the same reason I went into the wilderness and for the same reason I selected that mountain, I knew that the tree had something to do with the reason why I was there.  Of course the earth between me and the tree was difficult to cross and I had to strain with new reserves of my strength to get there.  I would make it to the tree, but I could feel fear was settling itself onto me.  I hadn't started early and arrived at the mountain in midday.  When I made it to the tree I had been on the mountain for 4 hours.
I sat under the tree confused and angry.  "I was so close, wasn't I?  Why here?  Why isn't this it?"  It didn't seem there was a reason for the spiritual quest.  I was aware that I wouldn't have the strength to go down off the mountain the way I came up.  I suppose it didn't matter anyway, there wouldn't even be enough hours of sunlight left for it.  What was I thinking in the first place?
I looked at the tree, angry that I couldn't just touch it and have all my problems melt away.  It was outrageous that I lived in a world where it didn't have magic powers.  That it wouldn't sprout wings and allow me to ride it safely to my car.  I started to prepare myself for the idea that I would have to spend the night on the mountain and try back down in the morning when my strength had returned.  No one knew where I was, I had only the clothes on my back and I didn't know anything about animals in that area.
While facing the tree, I turned myself to God and wondered what I was going to do.
"You're probably not going to teleport me out of here, are You?  Why would you?  I walked into this, I deserve it I suppose."
 "Go further."  The voice in me said.
"Why?  Why would going in any deeper help?"  From where I was on the mountain it only seemed like one horizon after another, each one I conquered got me no where.  "That's pointless, I'm going to need my strength to stay warm tonight."
"Go further."
Eventually deciding I had nothing more to lose, I grumbled and pulled myself up to a new line of sight.   The rocky earth ended with a moss covered plateau that sat above a small bluff.  If I weren't so exhausted I would have probably cried.  "You brought me all the way up here to have me sleep here?"  It felt very cruel.
"No.  Go further."
"..."
"Go further."
I did not want to spend the night, but I had a hard time believing that what was before me was going to be any better than the area I was at.  Sadly, it was the closest thing to hope I had. 
"Go further."  I don't know if I sat there for long or not, but eventually I got up.  I pushed myself through the start of a tree line and noticed there was an unusually straight and abrupt gap in the upcoming trees ahead.  It was a road.  I didn't have to follow it for long before I found a cabin that said "S6A" on it.  It turned out that BC Hydro (I assume) had done work up there in the past.  What used to be a logging road, ran back down the mountain.  It fed down a side of the mountain I hadn't been yet, but it was something.  I chased after the end of it, trying to beat dusk.  My body ached and it was hard for me to keep from tripping on my feet, but it was headed downhill and I was grateful.
Right around the time it was getting dark enough to mess with my depth perception, I got to the end of the road.  It was at the opposite side of the waterfall, not far from my car.  It couldn't have worked out better if I had planned it.
On the ride home I was stuck on the mystery of the ordeal.  I still didn't know what the point of it was.  Although by that time I didn't really care because I was so glad to have made it out okay.  But for some reason that single instance seemed to paint picture that summarized a good deal of my life, especially at that time.  My friend would later call that experience my "burning bush."
I remained confused because it didn't solve the question of purpose in my life.  I didn't receive any instructions, a mission or anything like that.  All I know about it is the way it felt.  The novelty.  The struggle.  The fear.  The despair.  Then the relief.
I wasn't lost.

Heart of Darkness

"...all that mysterious life of the wilderness that stirs in the forest, in the jungles, in the hearts of wild men.  There's no initiation either into such mysteries.  He has to live in the midst of the incomprehensible, which is also detestable.  And it has a fascination, too, that goes to work upon him.  The fascination of the abomination--you know, imagine the growing regrets, the longing to escape, the powerless disgust, the surrender, the hate."

"Whether he knew of his deficiency himself I can't say.  I think the knowledge came to him at last- only at the very last.  But the wilderness had found him out early, and had taken on him a terrible vengeance for the fantastic invasion.  I think it had whispered to him things about himself which he did not know, things of which he had no conception till he took counsel with this great solitude- and the whisper had proved irresistibly fascinating."

"...there is a period of time which I remember mistily, with a shuddering wonder, like a passage through some inconceivable world that had no hope in it and no desire.  I found myself back in the sepulchral city resenting the sight of people hurrying through the streets to filch a little money from each other, to devour their infamous cookery, to gulp their unwholesome beer, to dream their insignificant and silly dreams.  They trespassed upon my thoughts.  They were intruders whose knowledge of life was to me an irritating pretense, because I felt so sure they could not possibly know the things I knew.  Their bearing, which was simply the bearing of commonplace individuals going about their business in the assurance of perfect safety, was offensive to me like the outrageous flauntings of folly in the face of a danger it is unable to comprehend.  I had no particular desire to enlighten them, but I had some difficulty in restraining myself from laughing in their faces so full of stupid importance.  I daresay I was not very well at that time.  I tottered about the streets--there were various affairs to settle--grinning bitterly at perfectly respectable persons.  I admit my behaviour was inexcusable, but then my temperature was seldom normal in those days."