Be Quiet!

I never knew what meditation was. I used to think it was related to emptying your mind. Stopping the chatter and ceasing all thought. I also thought that it had something to do with being still. I still don't know what meditation is, but, now I think that it is something different. It is something personal. For me it is related to being at peace with the chatter. It is not about stopping the chatter, but about letting it flow. Giving it freedom. It is about letting go and being fully in tune with the present. Letting go of the past and the future and being at peace with the actual moment. It is about giving up control. I think some people call this mindfulness. I am pretty sure that there is an App for it. I am pretty sure that my dog can do it.

When I reflect on my childhood, I realise that most of my existence was spent in the present.  Outside of school I never partook in 'organized' activities. But, I was always occupied. Whether it was climbing trees, kicking a ball around the streets, reading books or drawing pictures, I was always absorbed in some activity. I pretty much existed in a 'flow state'. Happy days. As a young adult I also recall long periods of being in the moment. Experiencing flow while Studying chemistry or listening to music or whatever.

As a fully-fledged adult I experienced these mental states less often. Responsibility was getting in the way. My thinking became clouded with thoughts about the past and about the future. Planning ahead and learning from the past are healthy, normal things to do, however, at some point I ceased to exist in the present. Only analysing, planning, reflecting. Never just being. Imbalanced. A series of crises caused a yearning for some of the peace of mind that I had in my youth, and this brought me to meditation and mindfulness. The trouble was that it didn't work. Even activities like reading that used to induce a flow state no longer worked. Had I really lost my ability to just be? Had I lost my ability to exist in the moment?

I began to realize that it was my approach that didn't work. My restricted, narrow perception of what meditation actually is was getting in the way. I came to realize that meditative practice does not need to be a still and quiet activity. For me personally, it also has nothing to do with emptying your mind or stopping the chatter, but rather it is about entering a state of flow. I finally understood that the stillness and quietude that I sought could be found whilst being active. Actually, for me, it can only be found whilst being active. I had to relearn what I instinctually knew as a child. And my activity? Walking. Preferably in the mountains.

For me, there is something particular about the mountain environment. Once you get off the beaten path there is a quiet stillness to be found. I prefer to be away from the crowds, and I prefer inclement weather. After an hour or so of walking in the fog I enter 'the zone'. A bubble. A bubble that is both physical and metaphorical. I can literally only see 20 meters in each direction. The contours of the landscape have been removed. There exists only the occasional accent. I cannot see very far along the path ahead. I cannot look very far behind. The past and the future do not matter. All that matters are the next few steps. I am truly in the moment. I have once again entered the state of flow that was so easily attainable in my youth. This is my particular form of meditative practice.

Hiking gave way to mountaineering. I discovered new ways to remove the contours and get into my bubble. Starting a tour from a mountain hut at 2 AM puts you in a headlamp bubble from the get go, irrespective of the weather. There is nothing like hiking in the dark. It sharpens your senses and puts you in the zone immediately. It demands focus. It demands mindfulness. Summer gave way to Winter. Covering the landscape with a layer of white also had the effect of introducing stillness. Of removing contours. Of drawing you into the bubble. Without even a defined path, navigating a whiteout can be a frightening experience. But, once you make peace with it, it offers a meditative envelope. Cold. White. Still. Only accompanied by your breath and the crunch of snow underfoot. Existing as an animal. In the moment. Well-constructed paths gave way to crevassed glaciers and technical ridges. There the bubble was created through the sheer technicality of the terrain. When a mistake means death you are supremely focused. The next step. The next move. I have been so focussed moment to moment, that on occasion I have no real memory of the tour. Five hours can pass in the blink of an eye. You can arrive at the summit without really realizing it. Lost in a series of moments.

I am not a photographer, but I like to take photographs. In the past I tried to capture reality as it was. As I seen it. Grand vistas. Amazing sunsets. These days I prefer it to be a little more abstract. I am trying to capture something of the feeling. I am trying to bring home something of the stillness that I experience. I am trying to bring home something to remind myself of why I go in the first place. I am trying to capture my bubble. Fuzzy contours. The occasional accent.