That night the clouds parted, the chilled wind ceased, and total silence engulfed me. Furthermore, even with only the aid of starlight, I could see more clearly than I have ever before. Is was as if someone placed their hands behind my tired eyes and washed the haze away from my view.
I was high atop a rock formation in the northern New Mexico wilderness. The “Tooth of Time”, easily the most recognizable landmark in the area, was nestled between the southern cusp of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains and the expansive desert plains.
After a relatively short yet strenuous hike earlier that evening, I met up with some friends to spend a night hunkered between the large boulders that covered the summit. As it is for most nights at that elevation, the cold swept in hard and fast and we soon found ourselves staring at the night sky while lying in our sleeping bags.
It couldn’t have been more than a few hours later that I awoke to find that the clouds, like our cheery banter, had completely drifted away. I looked around to see if anyone else in the group was awake only to realize most had ventured off to other sections of the summit, presumably to find better coverage from the wind.
As the insomnia-fueled minutes slowly rolled by, an unnerving feeling began to creep in. This continued for some time until I realized what was happening. For the first time in my adult life I felt completely and truly insignificant. Not necessarily alone; but insignificant.
And it was the most humbling thing I’ve ever experienced.
So while I sat for the next few hours only listening to the sound of my own breath, I began to think. I decided to let my mind go down the proverbial rabbit hole.
I thought that everyone should have a moment of self-actualization in some way, similar to what I was having at that very moment. It’s good for the soul.
But I know it’s almost impossible for the majority of us to find true solitude amidst the hustle and bustle of our everyday lives. Hell, you often have to drive miles outside of the city to escape the light pollution just get a glimpse of the stars.
But regardless of why or how, I had allowed myself to succumb to the surroundings. To a point where I figuratively saw myself in the third person, realizing how small I really was. Among the vastness of space here was a 19 year old kid awake in the middle the night, lying on a rock on the top of a mountain. The relative size of and scope of my existence became crystal clear.
Still to this day I don’t know if I would have ever been able to capture that feeling, in that way, without doing something as atypical as finding myself 9,000 feet above sea level in the middle of nowhere. That’s why I am now enamored by those people who have never left the state, county or even town they were born in. Never boarded a plane or met someone who spoke a different language. Maintaining their habits and routines for decades and through multiple rings of their family tree.
At first I use to think of that as a ridiculous. Complacency taken to new heights. How could someone not have an urge or at least an interest in seeing some of the wonders of the world? Hiking the historic Inca Trail in the mountains of Peru only to arrive at the ancient stepped ruins of Machu Picchu. “Not for me.”
Ludacris.
But over time I began to see some honor in that. The material and personal satisfactions, such as traveling, that most of us have are easily and far too often shifted from hobby to habit, and from habit to obsession. After All, obsessions are almost by definition a negative thing. Becoming powerless to resist an idea or action; a mind continuously preoccupied with a singular vision.
So to those who have neither the desire nor attraction to camp at 9,000 feet; more power to you. It's not the end-all be-all situation to lose yourself.
For instance; you know that feeling when you are watching a movie and become so immersed within it, you almost suspend your contact with reality? To the point where your peripheral vision is not only blurred, but completely gone. Emerging from a couple hours later to find yourself a little shaken, while the credits roll by.
It feels good to sometimes feel insignificant. These days people are far too enamored with themselves. I think smarter people than I would call that a "narcissistic tendency".
Point being, whether it’s a movie or an adventure in the woods, let you mind wonder. Get lost. And eventually I think you’ll find yourself.
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