An examination of existence, from Roxborough State Park

There are some things that seem to bring a person closer to their essential being, closer to whatever it is that defines ‘you’. There are things that we experience that are so personal that there is simply no one on earth that could understand but you.

Now that I look at it, that statement sounds a little more grandiose that I intended. I mean to say that there is something in each of us that connects to our souls in a way that cannot be described. It doesn’t matter whether it’s watching your favorite NASCAR driver succeed (whatever it is that is considered success), or being able to lay down a nasty blues riff, it is that connection is what makes a person an ‘individual’.

Now, there have been billions of people that have existed since the beginning of time for whom self awareness and gaining perspective were not priorities. They were born, struggled, worked, then died. After all, if you have a farm, the plague, etc., the last thing you are thinking about is whether or not the human capacity to help to is weaker than the capacity to hurt. (It is). These people, while probably very nice, never explored their basic human-ness. It has been my experience that most people are clueless, and perfectly happy not exploring. That’s fine for them, whatever.

But there are people that have a more existential view towards life. I mean existential as it was originally defined, as an examination of our sentience. Our awareness of ‘other’, if you will.

For me, I am closest to ‘other’ when I am far from civilization, checking the tall grass for snakes as I approach an abandoned homestead, the old walls leaning, hoping to find an image that will convey the enormous sense of isolation that consumes the scene. The only sounds are my breathing and the wind as it pushes itself through the trees. This is the essence of exploring, all five senses acute, the ‘fight or flight’ reflex only a heartbeat away. It is at this moment, when I pause at the apogee of my exhale, before the next inhale, when time is still, the instant before my brain tells my finger to engage the shutter, when I am myself.

That is who I am.