Letting Go
I wrote a whole post last night after coming back from coffee and before going to campus. Unfortunately, Blogger seems to be having some trouble with my FTP so I lost the whole thing and have been unable to update this morning. Anyway, I�m feeling unproductive so I�ll do my best to recount the jist of the whole thing and add anything else that�s on my mind.

When I was talking to Alex, an instant from this past summer came to mind. It wasn�t something I had thought about for a long while, but the poignancy of it stuck with me long after I told him about it. It was a holy moment, and one where I was the most free I have ever been in my life.

I was descending Mt. Piegan, the first peak I�d ever summitted, at Glacier National Park this last August. The exhilaration of making it to the top stuck with me as we were going down the mountain, even though I was tired. We had just climbed down the largest cliffs at the top of the mountain (we being Justin, Karl, and Tim, Justin�s dad�) and were coming to a slope of scree and smaller step cliffs. I was descending one of these cliffs, my mind nowhere in particular, my body pressed up flat against the rock face, when I realized that the step that I was in the process of taking wasn�t going to sustain my balance. Instead of freezing and panicking, as I�d always assumed I would do in a potentially damaging situation where I�d screwed up, a weird calm came over me. I thought �oh, I�m falling,� and let go. Now, it wasn�t a long way to fall, really, but I could picture any number of critically bad things happening: my feet would hit the flat at the bottom and I�d fall backwards down the slope, I�d twist and hurt my head or break my leg. All these things went through my head when I let go (primarily I wondered about my head) but for some reason they didn�t concern me, they just were.

In that moment, when I let go of the wall, I let go of control completely and I let the universe have me. I knew if I fell wrong I could be really hurt, but I couldn�t do anything about it. I had no regrets. I didn�t fall forever and I didn�t hit bottom. There was enough time for me to think a few things and for me to react and when I reacted, I reacted naturally. I was utterly and totally loose. I reached out and grabbed the rock face, planting my hands and feet and finding I was suddenly stable just above the ground.


After that, I could barely walk there was so much adrenaline in my system. I was giddy, much to the chagrin of those who were watching, and feeling even more ecstatic than before. I was amazed at the freedom of my existence, of that moment of knowing and accepting. I knew I would fly if I thought I could but also that if I fell, I would fall.

It was a funny instant, one that has stuck with me more than any other similar moment of relinquished control. I am a very controlling person, a free spirit but also a �mother� figure. In this time when I�m sparring with my housemates, landlords, and the world for a secure hold on my life, it was important to be reminded of the hand of the cosmos in the way things will be. There is a balance, to be sure, between controlling your life and letting it be as it is. I want to KNOW my life and to be me� but I also try to understand that being an active participant in my existence does not mean I am always at the wheel.

This was a truly Holy Moment, one freed from all linear limitations. I want another right now. I want to find myself away from society and domesticity and the search for shelter.

People are strange. And I am strange, too, I am finding. Aside from the obvious connotation of seeking a basic need that this housing situation implies, I am also discovering my own desire for domesticity, for a higher quality of living, for nice things in a nice place and a stable home with an appearance of quality. It makes me wonder, why does this matter to me? Why do I care about things or who I live with or finding a nice apartment? I am me� I am not my belongings. And yet, somehow, it is impossible to remove myself from my lifestyle now that I have begun to establish it. There is no one to take care of me. I like taking care of myself but I get caught up in it. It owns me sometimes. It makes me ashamed not to be free. It makes me obsessed with control. I want to know myself but not through my possessions.

Is there another way?

Time to go take some photographs�