Day 16: Follow

This past May I tried to summit Mount Whitney, the tallest peak in the lower 48.  When we arrived at Lone Pine, Whitney came into view.  At just over 14,500 feet, this granite structure loomed overhead, and beckoned me in.

I had just read “Mountaineering in the Sierra Nevada.”  Written by Clarence King in 1872, this book tells of the adventures and expeditions of King and his journey through the High Sierras with the geological survey of California.  Parsed amid conversations with his horse, King took me on a wild adventure through the granite peaks, his untamed spirit and comprehensive knowledge of geology touring me through the rugged wilderness.  Before attempting Mt. Whitney, I read the chapter again…

“Up the glacier valley above camp we slowly tramped through a forest of nobel Pinus flexilis, the trunks of bright sienna contrasting richly with deep bronze foliage.  Minor flutings of a medial moraine offered gentle grade and agreeable footing for a mile and more, after which, by degrees, the woods gave way to a wide, open amphitheatre surrounded with cliffs.

I can never enter one of these great hollow mountain chambers without pause.  There is a grandeur and spaciousness which expand and fit the mind for yet larger sensations when you shall stand on the height above.  Velvet of alpine sward edging an icy brooklet by whose margin we sat down, reached to the right and left far enough to spread a narrow foreground, over which we saw a chain of peaks swelling from either side toward our amphitheatre’s head, where, springing splendidly over them all, stood the sharp form of Whitney.”

I desperately wished to be in that moment of discovery.  To be the first.  To venture into the unknown, where none had gone before, and to pave the way for others to follow.

Then I reconsidered.  My experience on this mountain, regardless of how many had gone before, was new to me.  Following another’s footsteps did not detract from the magnificent beauty and power of the range, nor did it hold my wonder and exploration at bay.  I followed, and countless will follow me.  But that does not make mine, or your experiences any less valuable or meaningful.  We garner strength and courage from those who have gone before; insight, wisdom, understanding, and knowledge.  We use others’ experiences to inform and plan for our own, and then we must set them aside, and experience life as a unique and personal encounter; with the confidence and comfort of knowing we are not alone, but the excitement and wonder of an experience all our own.

This is what faith is like.  A personal relationship with God, one that is solely and explicitly yours, yet is informed and influenced by a myriad of others who have gone before.  This puts the individual faith journey in a delicate balance of personal exploration and relationship with others, enriching the journey, adding depth and connection while maintaining personal wonder and love.