Mountain Man

I've always felt like an outsider. Not in an alienated or bitter way, I love being a part of the world and for the most part I like the people that I encounter, and while I am often critical and sometimes cynical about humanity, I ultimately have faith in humankind, and hope that given enough time we'll come around.

I enjoy considering myself an outsider. Not in an arrogant or superior way, although I will admit to having to fight that urge to put myself above others occasionally. I fight the urge because it's not how I want to be. I have my own take on things, my own view of the world and the way it should operate in the best of all possible worlds, and that view often goes against the grain of mainstream thought. But I don't view myself as inherently better than my fellow man (or woman), just often different. Although I suspect, at least I hope that deeper down we are all on the same plane, that we all see the same universal truths and desire the same goals out of life, but that many have a more difficult time breaking free from the constraints of mainstream conventional thought processes that for the most part hold humanity back from its' true purpose, which to my way of thinking is to create an ideal, compassionate, peaceful, just, and ultimately more humane society.

The place where paradoxically I feel most in touch with both the human and natural world is when I am by myself hiking in the back country of the Eastern Sierras in Northern California. By getting away from all of the trappings of modern life I feel that I become connected with ancient and universal truths that are accessible to us all if only we actively seek them and then allow ourselves to be penetrated by their beauty and wisdom. Being in the mountains is for me a truly religious experience, one that gets to the heart of my pantheistic philosophy. I believe that the true nature of God and of life can be found in what is most genuine, and that quite simply put is in nature.

While there are other natural settings that inspire similar feelings, the ocean and the desert offer an experience of holiness and bliss as well, for me there is simply no place like the mountains. The majesty of snow covered peaks, the plethora of colors, smells, and sounds of the grass and pines, the wildflowers and aspens, the lakes and streams, the animal life, and the glow of the sun away from the filters of pollution are quite possibly the perfect blend of stimuli. The mountains provide an experience that emanates from the core of our existence and contains the entirety of it. I look forward the entire year to my brief time every summer up in the mountains and inevitably suffer from a temporary depression upon my return to humanity while I gradually readjust. If I had my way I would spend more time in the high country and less in the lowlands, but of course we don't always get our way in life do we?

Don't get me wrong, my life in the city is wonderful, and while I'm not the biggest fan of desert life in the ridiculously hot summer months, Phoenix suits me fine. My kids are growing up in a good environment, which is the most important thing to me, and my wife and I have mostly adjusted to life in a city that is not native to either of us. Perhaps Phoenix will always be my home, there are always practical matters to consider, such as being able to bring home a paycheck and being close to family to name a few. But in my ideal scenario, after my kids are grown and off making their own way in the world, and if my writing ever provides me with the ability to make a living outside of the constraints of working for an employer, I would live in a mountain town. Mammoth Lakes, CA is my favorite such town, but staying closer to family and living in Flagstaff, AZ would be an option as well. Of course certain things would have to fall into place, but a boy can dream can't he?

For now I'll simply enjoy the cooler late fall and pending winter weather, wear my flannel coat and grow my mountain man beard, both symbols of how I see my true self. I have the pictures taken on my summer treks which serve as the background screen on my laptop and as a constant reminder of where I'd really prefer to be. I have the ability to load up my new backpack and head up north for a day hike now and then. I'll enjoy this desert life and the urban existence that most of us live out of practical concerns and necessity, but I'll keep dreaming of the day when my wife and I can put the city in the rear view mirror and head for the hills, to a place that brings one closer to all that is most real and beautiful, to a place that has been in existence long before the artifices of man, and most likely will continue to be long after we are done altering the planet in a vain attempt to bend it to our will.