Go tell it to the mountain


The trail as a metaphor is a wonderful concept. Each person must walk his or her own path through life, and is ultimately responsible for the direction that path may take. Life, like any trail, is a matter of ups and downs. When one is going up, and the way is steep and tiring, the idea that there will ever be an easier time of it is only a belief. It is not real. What is real is the feel of aching muscles and burning lungs as you head up the trail. Yet when you reach the top and your breath returns to normal, the pain is soon forgotten and the misery of the climb has been left behind. Where I have been seems immaterial. Where I am going is what engages me. The top is like the goals we set in life that, when achieved, sometimes seem unimportant. It is the process, the steps, the getting there, the human effort that is important. Inspired by Hugh Swift Hugh Swifts paints a wonderful metaphor for the way we proceed through life in search of our dreams and goals.  I have humped up and down many mountains over the years.  Always it starts the same.  I see a mountain peak.  It is a peak I have not climbed before, and I suddenly get the urge to climb to the top.  I tell myself the view from the top must be fantastic.  And so I gather up my resources – rucksack, map and compass – and start up the trail with only a vague if idea of where I’m going.

When I think about it, this is exactly the way I tackle the big goals in my life.  I get an idea, buy a few books, or attend a course, and then I start off in pursuit of my goal with only a vague idea of how I’m actually going to achieve it.  So what can the mountain trail teach us about our goals?
The trail teaches us that we must have a plan even if it’s a loosely devised plan.  Looking at a map of Snowdon there are many marked paths to top of the mountain.  Paths that others have trodden and left sign posts and guides to aid us on journey.  However upon closer inspection there are literally an infinite number of paths to the top.  Some are harder then others.  And some seem all but impossible.  Which path should I choose? Should I take the one that many have done before and thus have left an easy trail to follow?  Or should I take a little known more secluded trail? Robert Frost reflected upon coming to a fork in the road that he took the path less travelled and that made all the difference

.If we think of the mountain top as our goal, we look upon it from the start and think to ourselves that we will never be able to get to the top.  The climb is too difficult.  We don’t have adequate training to attempt such a feat.  But then slowly, gradually we start to engage with the mountain.  The trail starts off gentle at first and then the incline to increase.  Our legs and our lungs burn and our bodies cry out stop.  Turn back. You can’t possible make it to the top.  We think we will never see the end. Some turn back and give.  Others seek a less strenuous path.

Another lesson is the map seldom looks like the territory.  Jean Baudrillard tells us that the map is not the territory.  We can sit and plan for days and weeks which route we will take to get to the top of the mountain.  We note our grid references and mark our waypoints confident that we have a rock solid plan and should reach the top with few distractions.

The moment our feet touch the ground then the territory itself changes.  And we exclaim that’s not how it looks on the map.  We must make some adjustments based on what we see before us in the real.  We must trust our own instincts our own judgements.

The mountain trail can teach us a lot about ourselves and our lives.  The ancients believed that there was something called the mountain spirit – a spirit of purity and isolation. Even though the Tao was everywhere, spiritual wisdom was too easily lost in the cares and consideration of the plains. In the isolation of the mountains, with the voices of the throng stilled, the whispers of the Tao could finally be heard. This was what the ancients called the mountain spirit… and it’s what we call Ascent.


Tisha January 24, 2007

Go tell it on the mountain over the hills and everywhere!

Profound Clay, you move me!

“Mountain spirit” Ascent – aaaaah I can just see it now a mountain, skies and me – it’s time I really planned that trip I’ve been wanting to take

Tim Clague January 24, 2007

The only problem with this metaphor is that it doesn’t seem to matter which route you take, the top is always the top. In the real world our journey does not always have a map and others may never have reached the same peak as us.

Dixie January 24, 2007

As stated above, no matter what path you take the top is always the top. But what is at the top is what you have put there?

Clay Lowe January 24, 2007

Tim and Dixie,

One of the points we make at the top of the mountain is exactly that…you’re at the top, now what? We like to think that it’s what you take back with you to share with others that counts.

I’m sure Tim, you will have come across the idea that the map is not the territory. I’ve spent enough time running around in woods, deserts, and mountains to know that even with a map the ground does not look the same and the journey doesn’t always go as planned out on a 2 dimensional map.

I think in the real world we do always have a map, even if that map is only a few squiggly lines on a piece of paper, or some whispered piece of knowledge of an idea, or even an internal map we use to guide us to some destination. We process the world through our internal “maps” or representations of reality. You have a “map” of every experience you’ve ever had. And where we don’t have a map from physical memory, we make one up. And I am using the word map to mean a representation of…

And in the end it doesn’t matter which path you take, it’s what you learn about yourself along the way that matters. The top was never meant to be anything other than the top.

There’s an old Zen saying that says: before enlightenment chop wood, carry water; after enlightenment chop wood, carry water.