When The Path Disappears Beneath Our Feet

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Have you ever been walking in the woods, looking around at the trees and the sun filtering through them, perhaps admiring the subtle changes in flora that the varying light and moisture and soil conditions have given rise to, when suddenly you realize that you can’t make out the trail anymore? You peer intently at the forest floor up ahead, but the trail seems to have completely disappeared. You turn around and you’re met with the same! Where did the trail go? You’re heart begins to beat faster. You’re lost!

 

Wood in autumn with bright sunlight and faint path


In a way, I hope that you’ve had such an experience. For one thing, it gives us a much needed lesson in watching for such things in the future. Mostly, though, it teaches us something primal about ourselves. How do we respond when we’re suddenly immersed in “wilderness”? Do we become fearful? Is it exhilarating? Do we have confidence in our ability to find our way, or do we find ourselves on the verge of panic?

I’ve spent a fair amount of time up in the mountains of Colorado, quite a bit of it far above the tree line. Often enough in the highlands, if you’re heading to a summit anyway, the trail will peter out long before you reach the peak. Whatever loose rock might otherwise have formed a discernable path has already been carried down below. At such times, a cairn left by a previous trekker can be a welcome sight, but there aren’t always rocks available in order to build one. Now, you may not think that’s of any great concern. Aren’t you close enough to see the top by then? But there can be false summits, and ridges to navigate around. A wrong turn could have you skirting a dangerous precipice, for instance. So, you always need to keep your eyes open. You always need to be self-reliant. Arriving at the summit is nobody’s responsibility but yours.

 

Mountain cairn with peak in the background

The same is true of spiritual practice. Words can point you down a path, but eventually you’ll need to find your own way. Eventually the path will disappear beneath your feet. You’ll be in the deep wilderness forest. You’ll be near the top of a mountain peak still obscured by the clouds, or the many ridges yet to traverse. Have you ever been in this place? Was it exhilarating, or did you find yourself on the verge of panic?

Perhaps fear prompts us to make our way back down the mountain without reaching the top, or otherwise find our way back to where the trail is still clear. We might take comfort there amongst people who are seeing for the first time the terrain that we’ve already seen. Perhaps we enjoy pondering with them those questions that we’ve already pondered. Perhaps we’ll vow to find a guide who can offer up just a few words more about the terrain up ahead. Sadly, though, if we never make our way back to that wilderness, or that summit, we will always harbor unanswered questions deep inside.

 


Copyright 2021 by Mark Robert Frank

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