The state of mind created by the contortions of a yogi, or the quiet contemplation from a cushion has for me always come from the solitude and simple communion with the mountains and my friends. For many, the simple sight of a mountain imparts vast understanding and timeless wisdom that is simply too profound to apply to modern lives. Returning to society, these people will call on these memories for inspiration and serenity. For others, the sight of a mountain and the quick glimpse into its understanding is too great a magnet, and their souls will be forever called to the frontiers of their impossible faces and summits. Working to get as close, and learn as much from them, as possible.
The people who devote their lives to the mountains in this way, climbers, alpinists, mountaineers, call them what you will, are like fishermen of another ocean. Returning to civilization with thousand yard stares, we cherish our catch of a few tiny bits of wisdom, gleaned from the mountains as if prying the bones of a fish from the jaws of a great beast. The rock, water, and space that unite to create the great ranges of the world are some of the most patient elements, to the enduring spirits of the mountains, the chaos of life and society are but the swirl of an eddy.
The mountain extends as offerings its soaring ridges and clean vertical faces, simply there to be, the drive to climb or ski them coming from our human wills and egos. In an effort to understand them, we give the mountains names, recognize their ridges and shoulders as if parts of a body, speak of their faces and hearts. In this effort, we only become more aware of their superiority, their patience and understanding, and the simple face that we may never know.
The mountains call to us all, in some manner or another. They offer us an example, a clue to the simple and passive existence that makes their harmony with Earth such beautiful music. Bring to mind a mountain, and remember that we are related. We are them and they are us, having forgotten this we place ourselves at odds with them and lose the greatest friendship. To climb a mountain is to strive for divinity, to attain its peak is a fleeting desire. The moments of pure awareness come with movement, when thoughts give way to impulse and focus. As you move across the mountain and its rocky escarpments, your mind slowly vanishes until you are part of the stone, moving through it like a wave across the ocean.
enslaved in this body
as a free man
is the right and wrong way
no amount of understanding
will help you see
that there is no potter, nor any clay