The High Road

June 19, 2012  by in UnCategorized   

By Home Furnishings Business in on June 2012

While gathering retailers€™ thoughts for this month€™s issue on how to clean one€™s mental pipes, I found myself nodding along in agreement a couple of times as they described how they get away.

Their chosen stress-relief vehicles might differ from mine€”well, one was pretty dang close€”but as they described the effect of diving, fly fishing, whatever, it was a lot like what I seek when I go out for a major re-charge: beauty, peace and, most of all, going completely off the communications grid.

I know some of you are in positions where your responsibilities dictate that you remain in contact with work on essentially a constant basis, and I salute your dedication. I€™m fortunate enough to have a job that pretty much depends on my efforts and the organization of my own time, versus someone else€™s. So, if I have my ducks in a row, I can leave it all behind in good conscience.
I€™m also fortunate enough to have a boss (I€™m looking at you, Sheila), who understands that what I do when I have a string of off days sustains me throughout the year. I like to think a little of my attitude is rubbing off on her€”Sheila€™s finally leaving her computer at home (sometimes!) when she seeks rejuvenation. In her case, it€™s wind, sand and waves.
In my case it€™s wind, water and wilderness€”specifically the mountains. Those of you who know me already know that I have to get out in the hills every once in a while. Navigating difficult terrain, developing the judgment to negotiate potential dangers and the plain old rush I get from spending a few days without a roof over my head all offer a sense of satisfaction that make everyday life a lot simpler for me once I get home.
Listening to Rick Stark describe diving and its entry into €œanother world€ struck a chord. When I€™m in the high mountains, I€™m also in a place where humans are visitors. There, my companions and I are subject to the whims of the natural world and, at times, hazards that we don€™t face in our everyday lives.
There is nothing like the stripping away of distraction, noise and modern connectivity to open me to the beauty that surrounds us. Call me boring, but I could sit in camp for hours, just watching the changing effect of light on the peaks and basins we call home for a few days. That€™s usually the way I spend much of our first day up high, as we adjust to the elevation.
On several trips to the Sierra, I€™ve brought along a tent that I ended up using as a pillow, sleeping under the stars every night. I always get into my sleeping bag before I€™m ready to sleep, because I look forward to quiet contemplation of a meteor shower, or musing on how long the light from a particular star took to reach my eyes€”whether it even exists anymore. I€™d heard the Cat Stevens song €œMoonshadow€ decades before I€™d ever really seen one€”cast by granite peaks with the peaks facing the moonlight shining white. I could literally read by the light.
I remember a day on my own in Scotland when I started in sun, climbed into snow, and back down into sun. I was bopping along back to the trailhead laughing aloud; anyone who€™d seen me would have thought I was nuts (and indeed, maybe I am a little), but it was one of those moments when pure joy and delight in being free and on my own in remarkable country just flowed over my mental brim.
I€™ve had experiences up there that come to mind when difficulties arise in my job or everyday life. When I€™m feeling particularly stressed, I might take two minutes to watch a video of a stream that provided our water (and background music)  on one trip to the Sierra; or of a May day in Scotland taken from high on an Arran ridge as a snow squall blew across the tops and down Glen Sannox. We€™re talking instant blood pressure control here.

That sunset or sound and motion of trees in the wind while I€™m walking the dogs is a touch sweeter since it recalls sensations from my farther ramblings.

My wonderful wife doesn€™t go for this sort of stuff on the level I do. She doesn€™t understand the appeal and sometimes she worries, but she knows my love of mountaineering is an expression of whatever it is that made her go for me. And she cares enough to tell me to take a hike from time to time. (I€™m pretty sure she means it in a good way ...)

Anyway, that€™s my road to peace, and if you can find yours, I hope you may travel it as often as you can.