Wilderness, The Gateway To The Soul: Spiritual Enlightenment Through Wilderness (Nature Book Series)

by Scott Stillman

Yes. I have been here before. Not this exact point on the map, But to this place where my thoughts stop, And only beauty remains.

Have I ever left this place? Have I been here all along? I ask the rocks. They seem indifferent. Yes? No? What difference does it make, they seem to say.

A raven cries out. I think I understand.

I want to give all my attention to the desert. Submit to her completely. I don’t want to photograph her, I want to become her.

The Raven is first, and for obvious reasons. Masters of gravity and flight, they can soar on the thermals for hours, diving down a thousand feet, just to ascend again. Climbing. Descending. Reaching the highest peaks with a single swoosh of their wings. They have mastered the art of being Ravens.

although you may think we are not doing anything because we just sit here all the time, we are vibrating, and we are in ecstasy. We are humming to the great hum that is going on everywhere.” (Watts 2000, p. 36-38)

What’s more precious, time or the present moment?

I was born to walk the Earth, experience the amazing beauty of this planet, and witness the splendor and magic of all things—to be overwhelmed by a ray of sunlight, touched by an encounter with a frog, and mystified by the texture of a rock wall.

Who we think we are, and who we really are, are often two very different things.

What is it about this place? What is it about this desert? I search for an answer but come up dry, like always. There is something here beyond words. Something unexplainable. A presence. Something living, breathing. Listening.

This place is time. Witnessing the rain, the wind, freezing and thawing. A canvas on which the Earth paints its story, leaping from the landscape, saturating the senses, invoking the wildest of imaginations. Art without the artist. Painting without the painter. Beauty for the sake of beauty. The work of God.

They say that wisdom comes with age. So who could be wiser than the sky, with its eternal sunsets, thunderstorms, stars, galaxies? Who could be wiser than the rocks, these monoliths of stone, witness to all, over the eons of time?

Our minds, plagued with the curse of incessant thought, fall into a blissful state of peace.

We are social creatures. Surrounding ourselves with constant relationships, we often neglect one of the most important. The relationship with ourselves.

With a deep breath of pure mountain air, you smile in gratitude, heading out into your day of adventure. You’ve stepped out of your routine, out of your story. Now you are creating. Your book is unwritten; you create the story, minute-by-minute, frame-by-frame, second-by-second.

I retrieve Edward Abbey’s Desert Solitaire from the top of my pack. I bring along this battered old paperback for two reasons. One: it’s small and lightweight. Two: it’s pretty much the best book ever written, at least on the subject of wilderness, philosophy, poetry and humor, not to mention spirituality. I’ve read it dozens of times. It never gets old, it only gets better.

We live in a noisy world. It’s no wonder we’re cursed with the constant plague of incessant thought.

I must warn you though, do not bring your world into the wilderness. Leave it behind like an old pair of sneakers at the door. And if you can, go it alone. If you must bring a companion, I urge you to set an intention beforehand. It’s all too easy to drown out the holy wilderness silence with chit-chat. Agree that you are going on a sacred journey, that you are going to church. If you must talk, try limiting conversation to things of the present, what’s happening now.

In wilderness, the sermon is delivered by no man, but rather by the rocks themselves, the air you breathe, the plants, the clouds, and the sky above. They regale a wisdom so ancient, so profound, that it permeates your soul deeply, using no words at all.

Free at last from the incessant rumble of your busy world, the ancient wisdom of the Earth can finally be heard, sometimes resonating so deeply that tears fill your eyes, love fills your heart, and beauty blossoms from within.

This much silence is intoxicating. It comes on like a drug, intensifying awareness, amplifying sound.

The more I step out of my routine, the more I seem to create.

The most spectacular desert country in all of the world lies between Moab and Hanksville, Utah.

I’m camped at Angel Trailhead, just south of Hanksville, jump-off point for exploring the Dirty Devil River and all its canyons.

We are born searching. Constantly seeking something that we cannot name. Something we want so desperately but cannot describe.

It may be true that wherever you go, there you are, and as far as I travel I can never get away from myself. Yet it’s also true that when I travel to places of unspoiled beauty such as this, I awaken something inside myself.

If we are not living in truth, are we not living a lie?

Beauty is indeed a choice. Day by day, moment by moment, we choose love or hate, life or death, light or darkness. The seeds for both are contained within all things, both living and nonliving. It all depends on what we focus on. We create our own world. Focus on beauty and beauty you find. Focus on darkness and darkness will prevail. Beauty guides through the heart. Darkness through the mind.

How to see through the heart in a mind-dominated world? This is the challenge. We are at a crucial point of existence, and we have been for some time. Buddha knew it. Jesus knew it. Now it is you. You are the messiah.