Hiking Log 5
Captain’s Log: Stardate 220303
I rediscovered something in Santa Elena Canyon of the Big Bend. I am nothing and I like the solitude. With 1,500 feet canyon walls towering over me and the Rio Grande just a slip of a river in front of me, I reveled in the silence of the place, the quiet movement of the water, the stillness of the tall walls. I saw a million years of history stacked in that stone, and I knew nothing I had to say mattered, and nothing that bothered me mattered, and while it was good to be alive and breathing, my time here is no time at all.
It might sound nihilistic to say that, but it’s a fact. The earliest surface in Big Bend that we can see dates back 150 million years. There are not enough zeros behind a decimal to show where my life fits in that time scale. I’m nothing compared to ancient seas and continents grinding together with volcanoes and dinosaurs thrown in for good measure. And to think about that and understand it puts my mind into a quiet, contemplative space and I like it.
I guess the trick now is to put the lesson of the canyon into practice. Be silent. Be still. Be patient. Pace myself to the heartbeat of the earth. No problem I have is really a problem. It is more like a self-inflicted wound. In fact, in the grand scheme of things what is any human problem? Granted, we have to deal with life and be kind and take care of our family, but it’s doubtful, in a 100 million years that any trace of even that will be left for whomever follows us to see if anyone follows us at all.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale