September 24, 2017
After time spent solo backpacking in the Catskills and Adirondacks, I have been contemplating wild spaces. What makes them desirable? What makes them feared?
In regards to the first question… The simplicity and beauty of nature calls me time and time again. There are complex systems at work: the food chain, tectonic plates, the water cycle, the weather. However, everything operates so seamlessly, without complication. Even if something disturbs the system, a human-made forest fire, for example, nature figures it out and moves on. Wildflowers grow and chipmunks find something new to eat. [With that said, here is a timely PSA: Only you can prevent wild fires!] There are no pity parties, grudges, or scheming. Nature just moves on. If only the lives of humans could be so objective. We have jobs to worry about, bills to pay, interactions with others, appearances to keep up, and the all pervasive ego. And for what? I haven’t figured it out. I do not know why “standard” society operates in the way it does. I think the reasons I’ve made yoga a part of my life are the same as the reasons for me enjoying wilderness. The simplicity and basic nature of things. Controlling my breath and feeling the sensations of each pose. Noticing how sensations and breath change. Observing my mind in meditation and noticing where it goes. By being more mindful, I can move into stillness. I find this stillness, this joy of simply being, while I’m in nature, especially on solo trips. Simply being immersed in the woods, listening to the wind, smelling the dried leaves, feeling my feet step forward on the path, and feeling the elements on my skin have clearly shown me that there is no separation between backpacking, nature, and yoga. They are one and the same, all leading to the same place. So why are wild spaces desirable? Because they reflect a truth in ourselves that is often lost in the pure chaos of the society we live in.
Now to the second question…why is nature sometimes feared? The truth is, society is more dangerous than the woods. Not only is society more physically dangerous, but I sometimes find it more emotionally dangerous and a distraction to my spiritual practice. At times, however, I do feel fearful in the woods. After all my hours hiking, why am I still afraid to camp by myself? Everything is hunky dory until my tent is set up, and my surroundings become shrouded in darkness. Sounds seem amplified, and I am seemingly surrounded by a dangerous unknown. There could be a number of reasons for this. One being that I have been conditioned that way, as many people have. Horror films tell us there is something lurking in the woods. The Big Bad Wolf will get you. Halloween attractions sometimes take us on a hike through “haunted” woods. A serial killer is certainly waiting in the bushes. The hit movie “Jaws” tells us that the ocean isn’t safe either. I am sure all of this plays into my fears of sleeping alone in the woods and might even prevent some from taking a hike (especially solo) at all. How do we break this conditioning? By stepping out of our comfort zone and experiencing nature for what it truly is. It is an oasis in a crazy world. It is peace in our chaotic lives. It is comfort when we feel dissatisfaction with our current situation. I have found that I am not quite as scared solo-camping in the woods as I was the first time. On the most recent night, I even felt a wave a calmness permeate my body as I settled in. This didn’t last very long, but I noticed it, and maybe it’ll happen again in the future. Or perhaps my fear of sleeping alone in the dark woods is a reflection of the fear of the darkness in myself? My insecurities, guilt, judgements, expectations, and neuroses (to name a few) sometimes (often) overshadow the lightness of my being. I must remember that there is light beyond the darkness, a darkness before the dawn.
By immersing myself in the simplicity and beauty of nature, perhaps I will eventually move past the darkness, past the fears, past my insecurities. This life will be spent bringing light to the surface of a deep cave, just as the lotus flower comes to the surface of a muddy pond. The question remains, will the light of the flame flicker in the throngs of society, relationships, our rat-race of a world? Probably. But it is worth a try.
