Mountain, Day Four
I knew my trip the Mountain would be different today. First of all, I hadn't even planned on going, so when the inspiration hit me, it was literally a "throw myself into the car" excursion. I didn't have my iPod with me, either, so I didn't have any appropriate music to get myself juiced up. When I got to the Mountain, my path first took me not to the labyrinth but rather to the chapel. I sat for a long time, enjoying a sunbeam and the solitude. Then I walked the labyrinth. Then I returned to the chapel. Basically, that was the reverse order of my usual routine.
I stopped at the "multifoliate rose" stone on my walk through the labyrinth and really studied the tremendous variety of lichens and mosses and fungi on it. What a remarkable kingdom! I started figuring out ways to describe the microcosm, but then I caught myself. The more I tried to describe what I was seeing, the more I was losing sight of it. Overanalyzing it made me unable to enjoy the experience of it.
And that, my friends, turned out to be the significant takeaway for me today. It's the old "forest for the trees" cliché, I guess, because an overattention to the details forces us to lose sight of the bigger picture. Sometimes, rather than overanalyze, it's best to just be. In all this self-analysis I've done this week, which has been tremendously good for me, I have to remember that it's okay to be--which also means that it's okay to be myself. I have to enjoy being me, I have to like who I am, or nothing else will come together, nothing else will click.
A sign that hangs outside the chapel says "Be still and know that I am." It's a message about finding God in the stillness--but it's also a message about finding oneself. It can be so easy to keep yourself busy that it's impossible to know who you really are. Even being alone but keeping busy, or keeping distracted, makes it impossible to know who you really are. Sometimes, you need to take the time to bask in the quiet, and only through the stillness can you then know yourself. But it can be scary to be that still, and so many times--consciously or unconsciously--we keep moving so that we don't have to.
How surprising it's been to discover what I have in the stillness. I still have many questions and doubts, but I've also found a way to be at peace with parts of my life, too. That has made this all worthwhile.
I stopped at the "multifoliate rose" stone on my walk through the labyrinth and really studied the tremendous variety of lichens and mosses and fungi on it. What a remarkable kingdom! I started figuring out ways to describe the microcosm, but then I caught myself. The more I tried to describe what I was seeing, the more I was losing sight of it. Overanalyzing it made me unable to enjoy the experience of it.
And that, my friends, turned out to be the significant takeaway for me today. It's the old "forest for the trees" cliché, I guess, because an overattention to the details forces us to lose sight of the bigger picture. Sometimes, rather than overanalyze, it's best to just be. In all this self-analysis I've done this week, which has been tremendously good for me, I have to remember that it's okay to be--which also means that it's okay to be myself. I have to enjoy being me, I have to like who I am, or nothing else will come together, nothing else will click.
A sign that hangs outside the chapel says "Be still and know that I am." It's a message about finding God in the stillness--but it's also a message about finding oneself. It can be so easy to keep yourself busy that it's impossible to know who you really are. Even being alone but keeping busy, or keeping distracted, makes it impossible to know who you really are. Sometimes, you need to take the time to bask in the quiet, and only through the stillness can you then know yourself. But it can be scary to be that still, and so many times--consciously or unconsciously--we keep moving so that we don't have to.
How surprising it's been to discover what I have in the stillness. I still have many questions and doubts, but I've also found a way to be at peace with parts of my life, too. That has made this all worthwhile.