My Heart in the Hills

So, some days of living in the mountians - what shall I tell you?

Maybe I could tell you about these Inca roads and their relentless steep ascents to 4000m through wilderness trails and gurgling jungle streams; subtle colour spectrum which seems simple but in fact leaves out no hue and changes with every cloud or gust. I could muse over reflected light from snow-capped mountains, rivers tumbling and washing away concerns far down the mountain. And I could talk about arriving at Machu Picchu's Sun Gate in time to watch a beautiful sunrise over the ancient city, spoilt by grating noisy tourists taking ages to make good their touristic vision in endless group photographs. (A place to engage in mystical serenity that was not.) Further, the ruins and their incomrehensible age against precision like a child's lego construction, all the while sun streaming hot through hazy atmosphere.

There would be loads of stories, our suffering limbs, lovely trek leader Poncho, Jacob and Jenny getting engaged, llamas, coca tea, incredible porters who made our sleeping and eating totally smooth by running with enormous loads all the way - they make us look so lightweight. And some of them run in sandals made out of tyres.

But apart from all of these wonderful experiences, for me the most pressing discovery was how much heart there is in the wilderness of those truly high up places. There is a perfect soundlessness in those breathless heights, where no wheels or wires exist and the only audible movement when you stop walking is air against rough mountain grass. Choosing to be apart from our so-called life lines, a new space for other, deeper life emerges. In the right company, we all found a better attention to life even if in solitude, just yourself.

Gentleness, kindness, patience, peace, endurance for the body to climb, mind to commit and the soul to encounter proper Creator love.

Space, and serenity.

At the top of each peak sits a cairn. We don't put our stones on top, but add them to the side - not conquering, but contributing. How can we conquer the hills when they hold our hearts so lovingly whilst we clamber hard, scrambling further than we've ever been? And how do we even dare to conquer? We are invited into the story, bravely offer whatever we can and discover this effort is worthy and welcome after all. It's difficult to explain, but it felt like things made more sense in a deep down way than normal. And it did not feel complicated.

Not sure if I left my heart in the hills, or discovered that's where it's been all along, safe and sound.


{Today's Soundtrack: William Fitzsimmons - Beautiful Girl}