“The day-to-day stress and busyness have me running over the
sacred ground in my life, thoughtlessly trampling those delicate places. I
become worn and hardened as I focus on efficiency rather than beauty, on
productivity rather than meaning. Our
modern life is one of incessant activity, which leaves us breathless and
harried. We live by the old idiom, ‘Don’t let the grass grow under your feet’
without realizing we are killing any green and hopeful thing in our life.”
Those words were written, not by a world renown philosopher
or poet, but by a photographer. Erik Stensland is probably the premiere
photographer in Rocky Mountain National Park, and one who’s work I admire
greatly. His latest book, Whispers in the Wilderness, is a
collection of his reflections paired with his photography. This post isn’t meant to be a plug for his
book (but you really should pick up a copy, it is fantastic), but several of
his thoughts have spurred my own thoughts on what the outdoors and nature mean
to me.
While this last year was busy and filled with changes and
challenges, both large and small, I had ample opportunity to step out into the
wild parts of Colorado. Whether it was exploring new forests through the window
of a patrol truck, backpacking deep into the wilderness in search of mountain
goats, fishing new streams and lakes, or taking the camera out for a stroll
through RMNP, I didn’t realize how much these moments in the cathedral of
nature meant at the time.
Life has thrown its punches, tried to pull me back from wilderness
nirvana, and drizzled frustration on a sour serving of disappointment. Add to
this the hectic holiday season, a temporary move, and an uncertain future, and
suddenly the lush green memories of the previous year’s outdoors memories were
looking dry, brown, and trampled.
How do we avoid this? We all face setbacks and heartbreaks,
sometimes at a daunting pace, sometimes dwarfed by the sheer enormity of the
trials. The solution is different in
practice for everyone, but the answer remains the same: beauty. For some it may be creating beauty, through
photography, painting, sculpting, writing, sewing, gardening, or drawing. For others it may be simply enjoying beauty;
going to a stage production, sitting and watching the sunset, visiting an art
gallery, or reading a novel. When
confronted with this beauty we must respond by looking inside ourselves and
finding the inner beauty. I don’t mean that in some “you’re beautiful on the
inside” pep-talk way. Rather, I mean we must find the beauty that exists in
inspiration, hope, love, and goodwill.
These desires, beliefs, and feelings we carry inside us must be
acknowledged and pursued. The beauty of
the external world needs to drive us to nurture the beautiful things inside
us.
For me, that catalyst is the outdoors. Surrounded by
towering peaks, stout pine trees, and the particular smell of an aspen grove,
the weight of tomorrows worries can drift away, as if they were waiting for the
thin, crisp, mountain air to give them space to float off. In the subtle
mountain silence, the nagging voice of concern and self-doubt are muted. Here,
enveloped in nature, while my visual gaze is distracted by the rapturous beauty
bombarding it, my souls gaze can turn towards those places of inner
beauty. Here, I can give those
neglected, malnourished, and parched desires of my heart the attention and
restoration they need without anything else trampling them to dust.
Where is it you find beauty?
Search for it, desperately. Don’t let your dreams and hopes wilt under
the scorching skies of “tomorrow” or “someday.” Refuse to let the tender petals
of the blossoming flower of desire be squashed by the boots of “being
reasonable," “unobtainable,” or even "forbidden." The beauty inside yourself, those withering
places of longing and yearning in your soul, depend on it.
