I went hiking today. Not the kind of hiking that involves passing joggers and people with their pets, but the sort that whose routes are determined by the mark of hooves and the cut of water. When i was a little kid, my dad would take me out walking in the forest. We'd range far enough to need a compass. He once explained to me that no matter what befell in life there was always the silence of the trees and to solitude of nature waiting for me. I never really got that until today.
I parked my car at about 3:30 near the mouth of a river and wandered into the forest. I just needed away from cell phones and decisions, coordinating and compromise, and the constant hum of depression and lust and rage and bewildered perplexity in the dark behind my eyes. I am so very heartily sick of it all. As I walked I made the conscious effort to just be where I was.
It never gets dark in the city. Lights and sounds and people everywhere populate the night. Even the dangers are the dangers of people. All piled on top of one another in a writhing mess, self defined by self defined by self interconnected constantly searching needing yearning masses of people all demanding their right, their space, and yours too.
Somewhere out there in the woods as the light faded it began to snow. In the dark, I only knew this because of the way it felt on my head and face. Somewhere along the line bits had dropped away. Thinning hair, parent's estates, compromise, indecision, jobs, futures, is my shirt the right cut, loneliness gradually faded out to be replaced with remembering how to follow deer sign, how to walk without looking down and move with silence. Seeing the different patterns of ruffled forest floor and knowing what it means, knowing what walked here before me took over in a sort of in motion ohm.
The definition of the trees slowly faded out alongside the color of the leaves. The images i walked through became the grey green of night. the mottlesd uneven grey black swatches of ground separated from the sky by a series of vertical black lines foggy grey nothing in every direction.
It was so quiet i had to stand still and hold my breath to hear anything that wasn't me. Once, the sound of a distant jet startled me hard enough that i tripped. The only real disturbances out there with me were the ones i had brought along. Constantly, I found myself framing the moments into words so i could communicate them to other people, subconsciously seeking to validate the experience by trying to pass it along. As if taking the moment i watched two squirrels playing tag and handing it to another human being would forge that time into something special. It was special on it's own.
When i had walked full circle and returned to my car i had to stand and steel myself to unlock the door. With the dome light on and color returned to the clutter, the night closed in looming and black only to be sealed away when i closed the door, just my face reflected in the glass. My thinning hair, my issues, and the world i live in.
Driving home I got cut off and flipped someone the bird, stopped at the store and was nearly trampled by a fat lady, saw a man beg for change.
Going hiking was good, coming back was not.
At least the woods are still there, waiting for me.
I parked my car at about 3:30 near the mouth of a river and wandered into the forest. I just needed away from cell phones and decisions, coordinating and compromise, and the constant hum of depression and lust and rage and bewildered perplexity in the dark behind my eyes. I am so very heartily sick of it all. As I walked I made the conscious effort to just be where I was.
It never gets dark in the city. Lights and sounds and people everywhere populate the night. Even the dangers are the dangers of people. All piled on top of one another in a writhing mess, self defined by self defined by self interconnected constantly searching needing yearning masses of people all demanding their right, their space, and yours too.
Somewhere out there in the woods as the light faded it began to snow. In the dark, I only knew this because of the way it felt on my head and face. Somewhere along the line bits had dropped away. Thinning hair, parent's estates, compromise, indecision, jobs, futures, is my shirt the right cut, loneliness gradually faded out to be replaced with remembering how to follow deer sign, how to walk without looking down and move with silence. Seeing the different patterns of ruffled forest floor and knowing what it means, knowing what walked here before me took over in a sort of in motion ohm.
The definition of the trees slowly faded out alongside the color of the leaves. The images i walked through became the grey green of night. the mottlesd uneven grey black swatches of ground separated from the sky by a series of vertical black lines foggy grey nothing in every direction.
It was so quiet i had to stand still and hold my breath to hear anything that wasn't me. Once, the sound of a distant jet startled me hard enough that i tripped. The only real disturbances out there with me were the ones i had brought along. Constantly, I found myself framing the moments into words so i could communicate them to other people, subconsciously seeking to validate the experience by trying to pass it along. As if taking the moment i watched two squirrels playing tag and handing it to another human being would forge that time into something special. It was special on it's own.
When i had walked full circle and returned to my car i had to stand and steel myself to unlock the door. With the dome light on and color returned to the clutter, the night closed in looming and black only to be sealed away when i closed the door, just my face reflected in the glass. My thinning hair, my issues, and the world i live in.
Driving home I got cut off and flipped someone the bird, stopped at the store and was nearly trampled by a fat lady, saw a man beg for change.
Going hiking was good, coming back was not.
At least the woods are still there, waiting for me.
However, Christmas was a very broken and smashed up skeleton of its former self, and there was no denying. Nor keeping myself from regressing. The holidays are frustrating like that.
I need to get into the woods more. Unfortunately, mine are all paths & trails, and even "off-trail" you can still see them .. and I'm always way too self-aware and conscious, and. They're fairly populated with self-important walkers and joggers and "NOTICE ME NOTICING YOU AND PLEASE SMILE AND SAY HELLO" types.