Transient
My favorite gifts to receive: silence, peace and perspective in nature
In the presence of eternity, the mountains are as transient as the clouds.
Robert Green Ingersoll
As 2023 transitions to 2024 I’ve spent a few days scrolling through my original blog (2013-2020), re-reading some older pieces and contemplating whether or not they still ring true after so many years. I originally published a much shorter version of this post in the summer of 2017 and today, between holidays, I thought the time was right to expand a bit more
It opens with a question that’s always hard for me to answer “What do you want for your birthday/Christmas/Mother’s Day?” This makes me uncomfortable. Every time I hear it I know the asker means well, still, I don’t like telling people they have to give me a specific item. Yet, if I reply “Nothing” there’s a chance I’ll feel even more uncomfortable after receiving a gift that comes from a place of love but isn’t necessary.
As a way around this circle of personal awkwardness, I’ve started asking for experiences I know my family won’t say no to if I present them as my gift. Things like waking up at 6 am on a Sunday so we can hike to a quiet riverbank for lunch.
For this birthday I’d tried to think of an object they could give me, but I truly wanted quiet. A peaceful period away from noise, news, social media, politics, bills; you name it, I needed a break. It wasn’t the time for us to plan a big vacation but I did have a list of hikes I wanted to explore and this one along the Stillaguamish River felt like a good way to start the season. Sure enough, an hour down the trail I asked everyone to stop and we stood together in the forest unable to hear a single man-made sound. It was wonderful.
So, how do I connect this experience to a post about transience? By using the quote above and substituting a few words to match my experiences. For me, the day served as a reminder that when I open myself to the eternity of nature my mountains, or external pressures fade away. One minute they’re here (inhale), and the next they’re gone (exhale).
Eventually, we arrived at the river together and this pretty little cairn was waiting on the beach. A tower of mini mountains tumbled to smoothness with time, preparing for their next adventures through eternity.