2017 (6) – Welcome the Lessons

“Healing comes from gathering wisdom from past actions
and letting go of the pain that the education cost you.”

— Caroline Myss

The dawn entered demurely like a new bride, covered with a veil of high, overcast clouds.  Peeking out my tent flap, I realized the next time I’d lay down to rest would be back home in my bed.  Rubbing my eyes, which were irritated from all the smoke during this trip, I softly stumbled down to the shore of Little Bear Lake to sit and stare for a while.  I laid prone on the shore, so my eyes were nearly level with the surface of the water.  The stillness of the alpine dawn glinted off the water, cool as a jade necklace.  I reflected on the significance of yesterday’s eclipse, and had to admit, in the grand scheme of the cosmos, it wasn’t that big of a deal… just a random alignment of some heavenly bodies.  Still, it was a newsworthy event in our remote corner of the galaxy.  A really cool spot from which to observe the effects of the next solar eclipse would be an orbiting spacecraft, timed so it could experience the total eclipse for its maximum duration.  I read that a military jet once stayed in the umbra for over one hundred hours!  Another awesome view would be from the surface of the moon, looking back down at the blue marble of Earth as the round, somber shadow passed across its face.  It would be pitch dark on the near side of the moon of course, with our home planet as the only light source.  I could imagine a time in the not-so-distant future, when sightseers would be shuttled back and forth to the moon for the weekend, capture a few holographic images, buy a few souvenirs, then fly back to work on Monday.  They’d probably leave their trash all over the place, too.  What the hell, NASA did it for years… they visited our pristine little sister, unsullied by the dirtiness of life for billions of years, and left their junk all over the place.  Then they stuck a flag in the dust, with the arrogance of carving their name on a picnic table, so everyone would know who did it.

These lakes are like my classroom, I mused on that flat rock, which was now my desk.  Oh, how I wished I could go to school again every day like this!  But I was supposed to learn something up here in just a few days, then bring it back home to enrich my life, and the lives of those around me.  What homework would I bring back from this trip?  It had to be something as grand as a solar eclipse.  All of a sudden, I realized that its passing was much like the shadow that darkened my life for many years.  Now that it was gone, the light of God could return.  The “Universe-ity” of God is an institute of higher learning, where all of creation is the faculty.  Humans have been so busy studying the cosmos, we neglected to consider what it’s trying to teach us.  The reason we’re here is to learn God’s lessons.  The more lessons we complete, the more God’s creation is advanced.  Other students may help us to learn our lessons, but ultimately, we must understand them ourselves.  The more people who understand their lessons, the better that God’s conception can reach its highest potential.  Therefore, the highest and best form of existence is to help others reach their full potential… just as God is doing for us.  I had made so many mistakes from which to learn, my life was like a freakin’ Master’s program in expanding the awareness of my soul! 

I said my goodbyes to the lakes and packed up right after breakfast, taking my time to make sure I wouldn’t have to readjust anything on the trail.  The crossing to Big Bear was as trouble-free as I could remember, even though I had to double back a few times to find an easier route for my old knees to handle.  Every shady cleft in the rock spouted wildflowers like a watercolor fountain.  In the process of surfing the huge granite wave leading back down to the pools of Bear Creek, I found that the best route over the jumbled boulders and brush was to head for the flat spot on the lower ridge.  There was no longer any need to stay up above the rough spots, because the paths through the brush-choked gullies had gotten better over the years.  Progress, I snorted to myself, next there will be stairs, or a paved asphalt road.  Helpful cairns now marked a distinctly navigable route that traced a gradual ascent to Wee Bear Lake, or a descent from it, as I was doing.  The path made use of several flat ledges and exposed rock shoulders that would be the best way for ladies, kids, and dogs.  Most of the misleading cairns were gone, and I followed the good ones back down to the pools, where I sat and enjoyed a long break and a snack, waiting for my shirt to dry in the sun.  I planned to take another break at the Twin Towers on the way down, and try my luck panning for gold.  But other than that, it was going to be a non-stop flight home from here.

Right after I put my notebook away, I met two very nice young men who were headed over to Little Bear Lake for a day hike.  It was their first time up here, and I rolled my eyes empathetically in welcome.  They had camped at Big Bear, sharing their campsite with a huge rattlesnake they called “Jeffrey,” who lounged in the sun and paid them no mind (or so they told me).  I informed them of the best route up to Wee Bear, and advised them to keep a lookout for obelisks.  They didn’t know whether to take me seriously, but since I was such a friendly old coot, they nodded obligingly as if they knew what I was talking about.  I watched them with envy as they spryly clambered over the rocky ridge and were gone.  Farewell, young adventurers and heirs of the earth… you will see the Altar if you are worthy!

The controlled fall down the trail was uneventful.  My trekking poles were a marvelous addition to my balance and stamina.  I could send them out ahead of each foot, and brace each step down the trail.  My creative imagination designed improvements as I walked.  Shock absorbers would be nice, if they could be made light enough… perhaps with aluminum alloy springs.  The tips were limited in their effectiveness because they were pointed like a ski pole.  A three-toed design with the grip of a raptor’s talons would be really cool – especially if they grasped and pushed off rock edges and roots.  I stopped at the Twin Towers and ate the last of my gorp.  As planned, I tried my luck panning for gold in the gravel bed of Bear Creek, sloshing the sand and water around in my plastic oatmeal bowl.  I saw no color, and didn’t expect any, but it was fun to explore the creek that way.  Over the years it had already given me riches of a higher order.  Overall, it took about five hours to get down the mountain, so I figured that was the new “normal” for my age group.  I’ve made it down in half that time before, but that’s a lot of gravity for old knees to absorb in a short period of time!  As soon as I made it to the car, I moved it out of the hot sun so I could sponge bathe down by the river and cool off a bit before heading home.  The swimming hole I had discovered near the lower camp was awesome, and I cringed to think of how many years past I would have killed to have such an easy, cool dip after the dusty trail.  I got nice and clean while a blue-belly lizard watched me curiously, doing push-ups to assert his territory, just in case.  

It was already 2 pm when I finally hit the road and reentered the sad, mechanical world.  I had enough gas to get all the way home without stopping, but it wound up taking six hours due to rush hour traffic in Redding, combined with sun-gazing stragglers from Oregon headed south on Highway 5.  At one point I was following a bunch of eclipse nerds in a 70s VW pop-up camper, which was labeled “The NASA Bus” on the back, and had a big logo painted on its side.  I wondered if they left any litter up north, as I followed them for many miles.  Soon, the sun set to my right, behind the lumpy mountains of Mendocino.  I was amazed at how good my knees and body felt when I finally arrived home.  Except for a couple of nasty scratches to prove I had extended my boundaries, I felt like I had never left.

Laying back safely in my familiar bed, with the love of my life by my side, I recalled the first time I tried a solo trip in the wilderness.  At the time, the fears I had nurtured and cared for in my mind plagued me like a swarm of mosquitoes, and I had no tranquility.  Now that I had learned my lessons, and realizing there would always be more to learn, finally I was at peace with a landscape in which I was the sole representative of the human race.  If only I could reconcile that feeling with the necessity of living in society.

I think over again my small adventures, my fears,
These small ones that seemed so big.
For all the vital things I had to get and to reach.
And yet there is only one great thing,
The only thing.
To live to see the great day that dawns
And the light that fills the world.

— Old Inuit Song