Took my first solo backpacking trip this past Labor Day
weekend. Nothing very dangerous or
risk taking. I knew where I was
going, geared up appropriately, prepared for everything one should and notified
my brothers where I was going along with the phone number for the nearest
ranger station ….. just in case I
didn’t make contact at a pre-appointed time.
….….. and the rain did come. I gave myself a few merit badges for getting things right ….
Shelter, Fire and Food …. in that order!
After setting up my tent in record time, I started a fire
with wet wood with the help of a homemade fire starter. I cooked a fantastic Mexican
dinner with fresh veggies, chicken and all the right spices ….. in the rain ...... and a luxurious breakfast of coffee and oatmeal the following morning
…… also in the rain. But that
little bit of inconvenience did not dampen my mood.
In a quiet moment and to escape the pitter pat, I crept into
my dry tent and snuggled into my zero degree Marmot sleeping bag. Opening my journal that visited Nepal
with me a few years back, I came upon an entry that I forgot all about. It was called the “Fragility of Life”.
I include it now since it seems akin to my thoughts of
being out by myself in the mountains of Colorado.
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Walking inches away from the edge of a cliff, certainly
gives one pause. The recent fallen
snow didn’t need to add further encouragement to the possibility, as remote as
it is, of a fall.
As we trekked to Everest Base Camp, I had that horrible,
uneasy feeling. Six days into the
trek, after sharing many narrow trails with porters on foot and dzo (hybrid of
a yak and a cow) caravans burdened with supplies destined for the remote Sherpa
villages, I never had that feeling.
Why today? Just
that very uneasy feeling, the sixth sense kind. “What if ….”. I kept to the inside of the trail, used my trekking poles
more diligently and looked to make sure every step was secure before taking the
next. I was actually frightened.
I softly thought the Buddhist chant … “om mani pedme hum” ….
over and over again for comfort and concentration. From time to time I did look up at the magnificence of
the Himalayan Mountains and occasionally stopped for incredible photos. Slowly the uneasiness faded and all was
right with the world. I was at
peace.
I seriously thought about the fragility of life … my life.
In Japanese tradition, the cherry blossom (aka shakuro)
signifies the fragility of life.
Its beauty only lasts but moments and is gone in a flash. Each fallen petal represents the end of
life. Not that I consider myself
to be a delicate flower, but the mere insignificance I felt and the sense of absolute
mortality made me realize how true the saying is .… “you only live once”.
One careless step, a slip on a patch of snow could have
ruined my day and everyday thereafter.
There are lots of reasons for living in the moment and
enjoying what God has given me.
This bucket list trip to Nepal has opened my eyes, heart and senses in
so many ways. I am thankful for
the moments along the way.
They include:
- · Sharing my brother’s 60th birthday with a cake made by our Sherpa chef,
- · The old women with her weathered face smiling at us as she sat peacefully kneading her prayer beads,
- · The teenage Sherpa boys with their heavy loads strapped to their backs,
- · The shy “namaste” of a little child greeting us along the way,
- · The full moon illuminating the freshly fallen snow,
- · The rising sun shining on a massive mountain right in front of our tent,
- · The tiny Sherpa villages with tin roof houses and the tiered freshly planted fields.
- · Sitting with a Buddhist monk at the Pangboche Monastery as he recited a prayer in his red robe wearing a puffy down jacket, Northface cap and orange Adidas sneakers with yellow stripes,
- · The yak bells sounding like wind chimes in the early morning as they started off on their journey north,
- · The emotions felt at the first sight of Everest!
The fragility of life is sweetened by the glorious
moments we have. Namaste!
