And yet, I feel that a part of myself has been left in Provo. I find myself searching the eastern horizon for the magnificent mountains that set my soul on fire and fill me with a sense of warmth and protection. After years of secretly harboring a grudge against Utah, I've realized that I've come to love my mountains.
A few weeks ago I went for a jaunt up Rock Canyon, just past the temple. I needed a bit of a climb on my own, and a challenging one at that. I wasn't quite prepared for the adventures that awaited me, but it was a magnificent climb. I managed to scale a ravine that shot up between two peaks, probably the result of a rockslide. As took on the mountain, a tad voraciously, I started to notice that the way I had chosen was a bit precarious. It was raining, so the rocks were slippery, and with every two steps I took forward, I slid one step backward. I soon realized that in order to reach the top, I couldn't stop every few steps to rest or look back- I had to keep moving forward. A few hundred feet from the top, my legs started to become fatigued. A short rest on a solid piece of rock and a silent prayer later, I finished my ascent.
Once on the top of the mountain, I didn't have much time for reflection. A bitter cold wind cut along the plateau, and it had begun to hail. I took a few moments to assess my surroundings, and finally came to terms with the fact that I wouldn't be able to descend the way I had come. Ultimately I found another trail down, and I half ran, half slid along the side of the mountain. I got quite dirty, and my ipod graciously supplied me with enough EFY music to calm my increasingly panicking nerves- but I finally reached level ground. I have experienced few more relieving moments.
Reflecting on the experience later, I realized what a good metaphor that hike is for my life. I tend to want to look back every few steps and assess my progress, instead of pushing forward in faith for a time. Then, when trials arise, often panic is my gut reaction instead of peace. Both of these are aspects of my life I've been working on of late, and I very much appreciated the blessing of connecting the physical and spiritual through a very real example.
In the weeks since that adventure, I've learned the value of patience and peace. Introspection and quiet moments are important- vital even, but are best when scattered throughout the practice of life. An appropriate balance of careful self-analysis and faithful action- built upon a foundation of peace and hope based on truth- have lead me to a life of purposeful action and increased meaning.
I love living. In part because this world is glorious, but in greater part because life provides me with the opportunities to grow and learn and change and become. There is really nothing I hate more than the feeling of stagnation- so developing a greater understanding of the specific balance I need in order to maintain optimal progression is really quite a wonderful feeling. Somewhat like the way I feel when I see the various stages of blooms on a growing vine of Joseph's coat roses.
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| Joseph's Coat Roses: a bud and a bloom |
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| My Mountains |
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| The "rockslide" Trail |
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| Yes, sometimes they look like Mordor. Or Ireland. |
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| I got dirty... |
