Every time I go there I feel closer to something bigger.
I don't live in or near the mountains. In fact, I live in a valley, surrounded by flatland as far as the eye can see. It is beautiful with trees and flowers and water, etc. It is home and familiar. But when I go to the mountains, I feel something different. I think the word is awe.
The very first time I went to the mountains was when I was in high school. I think I was on the verge of turning 14 or 15 and I went on a road trip out west with my friend and her family. We saw the Rocky Mountains, the Tetons, and Yellowstone. Before that we saw Mt. Rushmore. I could not believe my eyes. I felt like it was some sort of magic in the mountains. I felt awe. My very favorite spot was Artist's Point where the mountains are different colors like an artist painted them. I didn't have the words for the beauty I saw. I tried to capture it with my cheap film camera, but the pictures do not do it justice.
The hiking, the forest, the waterfalls, the wildlife, the danger and beauty of the mountains was so exciting. I could not wait to go back someday. And while I haven't made it back out west, I have seen many mountains in my life since then. The Smokey Mountains, Mt. Vesuvius, the cliffs of Amalfi, Italy, Malibu, St. Lucia, Jamaica, I just feel called to them. When I am in them I feel myself connected to something bigger than me. I call that Spirit or Higher Power, or Goddess, etc. Whatever I call it, I experience it in the mountains. The views too pretty to think we could have thought of them. The waterfalls to wild to come from us. The trees too stubborn to follow our rules, growing out of sheer rock and standing straight against all odds.
When I'm standing on the top of the world and I can see three states away, I feel small and humble, yet also powerful and inspired. Sometimes I wonder why I don't just go live in the mountains because I would love to feel that more often in my life. Maybe some day I will. But I also feel that way standing ankle deep in Lake Superior, or the ocean, or even a stream. I feel that way watching the birds and chipmunks out my kitchen window but it is less dramatic.
The drama and intensity of driving in a car along the edge of a mountain face, or hiking on a small trail so close to the edge of the Earth with nothing to see but vastness, makes it impossible to ignore your limits and God's lack of them. My carsickness reminds me that I'm human and my body is limiting. The feeling I get watching the sun rise and set over those giant, vast, mountains reminds me that something out there created that and I don't have to understand it, tame it, conquer it or own it, I can just enjoy it while I can.
I'm sitting back in Michigan today. It is flat, it is snowing, and it is cold. I'm struggling to remember that the same awe I felt in the mountains in available to me here. I feel a little lost without the big, beautiful things, the sunshine, and the fresh mountain air. But I'm going to keep looking. Maybe in the giant snowflakes falling outside my window. The cardinal in my cedar trees. The chickadee at my feeder. The fact that I wake up every day and that I'm able to do good things. All more proof that there is something bigger than me out there. Creating mountains, allowing me to get two six year olds back to school after a long break without losing my cool, even though we couldn't find folders, glasses, or computers, and reminding me to get back to writing because it brings me joy.
I hope you find your mountain moment today. The one that makes you stop for just a moment today and realize that you are not all alone here and that there is so much to wonder at, to be in awe of. I'm trying my best today, it is not easy but I'm looking anyway.