Star Gazing (essay)
The night of January 26th was so cold that I couldn’t feel my feet until the next morning. As I lay in my sleeping bag beside the mouth of a canyon, I could see the moonlight dancing off frost that lined the bag, and the only part of myself I allowed to be exposed to the elements was the skin from just above my eyebrows to just below my nose. Sacrificing warmth, I let my cheeks get rosy so I could spend the night gazing at the stars. While my eyes were glued to the heavens, the girl in the sleeping bag next to me leaned over and whispered, “Have you ever seen this many stars?” to which I replied, “No. And I’ve never felt so small.” That night I wrote in my journal: “I know that the stars are there to remind us of something greater than ourselves.” It felt slightly surreal to be in a part of the country I’d never been to, with people I had just met, staying up talking about the stars. The sky seemed to be sprawling out before me so infinitely that I didn’t even want to blink. In those moments, I felt so insignificantly tiny, yet so unbelievably grateful.
When I reflect back on this night, I am jealous of the awe my former self felt in that sleeping bag, but more importantly, I garner a sense of perspective. While it is true that in the grand scheme of an infinite cosmos we are virtually unimportant, to me, it is also equally significant to note that within that cosmos, by some force of chance, faith, or pure luck, we all are granted the opportunity to go through life, oblivious to its grandeur. It can feel overwhelming to think of such grand, existential topics, however I’ve realized that it is important to zoom out every once in a while to truly appreciate the more simple parts of everyday life. Ever since I returned from my experience with High Mountain Institute, I find myself doing this more frequently.
In my town there is a small park on the Hudson River that sits right next to a power plant. At the far end of the park there is a dilapidated old pier that is crumbling near its end. In moments when I find I need to think, I come out to this pier and position myself such that my back is to the power plant and all I can see is the water and the mountains on the opposite side. Each time I come to this spot I tell myself, “This is the most beautiful place on earth.” Though through HMI and other travel experiences I have witnessed some of the most categorically breathtaking landscapes, there is something far more special about seeing something so awe-inspiring so close to where you are from. The way the river snakes past the base of the rolling mountains takes my breath away every time I see it. And just as I was humbled by the stars in Utah, I am humbled by beauty that is virtually in my own backyard. What I have found is that no matter where I find myself, If I look closely I can find these special places.
I have come to learn that the beautiful parts of this earth are not so distant. You can hear rushing rivers in the slow drip from a gutter and see forests within the branches of a lone tree in the front yard. All you have to do is look.
