It was an early mid-September morning, and we were already out. The light was shining, but the sun still hid behind the Catskill mountains. While the car climbed up the winding roads, the temperature kept falling. I should not have been surprised by that, but I was. Sometimes the anticipation gets the best of me, and this was one of those times. Maybe I should have expected that too. I wanted to come to this area for quite a while and now it was happening. The land held such a presence in its wild beauty. It was an old presence that would watch and wait. At times I felt like a mouse running from rock to leaf pile trying not to ruffle the feathers of the hungry hawk in the trees. Other times, I felt I was being embraced by a long-lost friend inviting me to sit for tea. At night, I would dream dreams of sorrow and joy, ghosts familiar and unknown, and of conversations that held deep meaning yet faded quickly upon waking. It was such an interesting place. We were wandering through the lands of Rip Van Winkle after all. It was a land that was certainly held in a time without time.
The hike along the path was long and at times steep, at least for my little legs. Signs were clearly posted to stay on the path due to the treacherous conditions along the mountainside. Making my way down the natural stone steps, they were sharp and a bit slick and muddy from the early morning condensation. It wasn’t an easy trail, but I kept myself moving cautiously and respectfully. With my muscles burning, I was sweaty, muddy, and needed a rest. I could hear the waterfall not too far away, so I pushed on.
Thoughts moved through my mind as they often do in the woods. Weaving their way through memories and expectations for myself, they were difficult to ignore. I know I can be hard on myself in a lot of areas. Maybe there are some places that I am overlooking. Names, labels, and ties are bound to me. Some have no business with me anymore, yet they bubbled to my surface anyway, resting upon my heart and shoulders. I could even feel a tightness in my throat from the ghosts of names that I spat at myself. I clung to the reddish-brown rocks in the wall to help stabilize me since the ground was slick from the creeping mist of the waterfall that was only steps away now. The silvery mist greeted me as the Guardian of the Falls. Honestly, I think it was a true guardian as I politely asked to enter that sacred space as a witch. My skin, hair, and clothing becoming wet in its breath. I was baptized in the sacred water after the difficult trial to reach my destination. I was granted access. As I slowly turned the corner, everything stopped. The pain in my muscles, the ringing in my ears, the weight upon my shoulders – it all dropped as the powerful breath from the falling water hit me. All the noise and labels melted from me. It just did not matter anymore. The trivial trappings of the fragile human ego fell away in that moment, leaving me feeling a little raw and vulnerable as I stood before the immense power of the natural land. It invited me to commune. This, like many other experiences with Nature will be forever etched upon my soul. I am humbled and moved by that.
I guess the point I am trying to make with this reflection is this: we are here upon this earth for such a short amount of time. While we need to do the human things, there is so much more to life. We can look to friends, family, and mentors for guidance along our way, but only we can truly decide what is best for us. Although we walk together, we walk alone. To me, to discover and hone our True Will, is something that takes a lifetime. We can have ideas of what it looks like, but to fully embody it, that takes time. Sure, we can explore the outer edges and try new things. That helps us to see other view points and expand our hearts and minds. Sometimes, like this particular nature experience, it was important to heed the warnings and stick to the trail for our own safety. We can look inside ourselves and see the beauty and color where we are. Perhaps we will even find ourselves in places where we have been sleeping for decade that is now ready to awaken to a new world and landscape that is vastly different from where we used to be, much like Mr. Van Winkle. The choice is yours and that is both liberating and terrifying at the same time. This life is fleeting. What will you do with your time?
Be well today,
Renee Bedard, The Whispering Crow
The Whispering Crow 