Mindful Hiking

Last week, I made my annual pilgrimage to Acadia National Park in Maine. I did four different hikes on this three day trip and each was amazing in its own way. What I love about Acadia is the dramatic vistas of ocean, mountain and forest. You can enjoy the thunderous collisions of waves against rock and also enjoy the quiet solitude of hiking through dense forest. The photo above is from the Acadia National Park website.

Hiking is one of my spiritual practices. By hiking in places of natural beauty, my soul is refreshed and renewed. However, a certain kind of awareness called "mindfulness" enhances the spiritual benefits of hiking (and other forms of activity, too). Mindfulness is being fully present in the present moment.

The key to hiking being a soulful experience is the attitude with which we do it. There are several ways to hike. A hike can be a race against other hikers where the goal is to finish as quickly as possible. A hike can become a time trial where the goal is to do your best time over a specific distance. A hike can also be done purely for exercise—to burn calories. A hike can also be done for spiritual nourishment.

When I hike mindfully, I am more aware of the natural beauty surrounding me. I notice the pattern of sunlight on the ground that filters through the branches of trees. I breathe in the musty forest air, rich with aromas of earth: decaying leaves, pine needles and evergreen cones. I look at the sky above the canopy of tree tops and marvel at the varying hues of blue and the puffy white clouds floating effortlessly. When hiking with this kind of awareness, I feel connected to the aliveness around me and feel more alert and alive within.

When it comes to spiritual practices, it's not so much what we do, but how we go about doing it. When we do something mindfully, we connect ourselves with what is holy, sacred and divine.

Be Prepared

The above title is the motto of the Boy Scouts. It's not a bad piece of advice for non-Boy Scouts, too. I'm in the midst of preparing to teach two courses this fall, a world religions course and a Hebrew scriptures course. Syllabi's are due next week and I'm cramming to meet this deadline.

In teaching, preparation is about 80% of the work. Not being well prepared has consequences such as a boring lecture, poor discussion questions, and leaving students with the feeling, "This guy doesn't know what he's talking about."

In hiking, preparation is even more important and the consequences even direr. Running out of drinking water can lead to dehydration. Not taking extra food can result in hunger and a lack of energy. Not dressing properly can lead to sun stroke or hypothermia. Not putting a compass and map in your backpack can lead to getting lost.

Preparation is also important in our spiritual life. So how do we prepare for spirituality? One way is to read books in this field. This can help us become aware of new and different spiritual practices. Another way to prepare is to begin each day in prayer or meditation. A quiet beginning can prepare us for whatever the day brings. Still another way is to take time to reflect on the question, "What feeds my soul?"

So much of our daily life is spent in preparing for what lay ahead. Being well prepared can make all the difference.

A Walk in the Clouds

Yesterday, I took a walk in the clouds. This journey through mist was on the La Luz trail to Sandia Crest in Albuquerque, New Mexico. This 4,000 foot climb is a spectacular hike through three different life zones and six different climate zones.

As I started the hike at 6,500 feet in elevation, I could see the clouds high above, looking like a waterfall spilling over the summit. When I reached about 9,000 feet I was in the clouds.

Walking in clouds, especially on mountains, is an other-worldly experience. You feel as if you are alone in the mist. This cloud enshrouded mountain called to mind Moses on Mount Sinai and Jesus, Peter, James and John on the Mount of Transfiguration. In the Bible, clouds are associated with theophanies (direct encounters with God-- in Greek this word literally means "God light").

I definitely wasn't alone on the La Luz trail. Some 400 runners ascended this trail in an annual race just minutes ahead of me. The fastest runners finished in an hour and a half. Somehow, I feel that they missed the amazing vistas and joy of walking in the clouds. I took this hike slowly, savoring each view of the dramatic rock spires poking through the mist.

Although I didn't have a theophany, I did experience a connection with the Sacred and Holy dimension of life on my hike. I reached the summit, still enshrouded in thick clouds, filled with gratitude for the awesomeness of God's creation.

Wildflower Wonderland

My final mountain hike of this trip was on the spectacular Saddle Mountain. This basalt dome is the highest in the area and the vistas are stunning. From the summit I could see five volcanoes and the Olympia range in the far distance. Because of the fog below I couldn't see the Pacific Ocean, but that was only a minor disappointment

The greatest sight from Saddle Mountain, however, is the plethora of wildflowers. On this hike I passed by vast meadows filled with paintbrush, aster, columbine, daisies and foxglove. The photo above from portlandhikersfieldguide.com shows the summit and some of the flowers.

When hiking to the summits of mountains, sometimes I focus so much on getting to the top, I don't enjoy the journey there. This hike reminded me that beauty is to be found all along the way, if we have the eyes to see.

Hiking is a good metaphor for the spiritual journey. When we open our eyes to the beauty in the world around us, we enjoy and appreciate the journey so much more. Looking at the world through the lens of gratitude transforms how and what we see.

A Day Off

Yesterday, because I had the day off from teaching (Spring break), I took the day off from blogging and writing. I decided to take a long hike in Bear Mountain State Park (NY) in the Hudson Highlands area.

I did an eight mile hike to a summit called the "Timp" and then to Duderburg Mountain. It was a spectacular day: sunny and in the 60's. The hike was challenging: 8 miles and about 2,000 feet of vertical. The photo above from the Timp looking north is from TomOnHudson on the panorama.com website. Looking south you can see the New York City skyline. I had lunch on this summit and took in the inspiring views.

I returned from this hike tired and with a deep sense of gratitude for the opportunity to spend Holy Thursday in nature's cathedral. This day of hiking was refreshing on several levels: physical, psychological and spiritual.

To renew and refresh our spirits, we need to regularly take a day off from our usual routine. In religious terms, a day off is a sabbath, a Hebrew word meaning "rest." The sabbath's origins can be traced to the first creation story in Genesis chapter one when God "rested" on the seventh day of creation. If God takes regular days off for rest, so should we.

A Hike Into Silence

I just returned from a 7 mile hike in the Bandelier National Monument wilderness. This rugged wilderness near Los Alamos, NM, is laced with canyons, mesas, streams and the spectacular cliff dwelling ruins of the Anasazi.

My hike took me down and up four canyons, each progressively deeper. Alamo Canyon, the fourth and final, was 600 feet deep. The trail into this canyon of red, orange and grey cliffs was a marvel of engineering. Most of it was rock steps and descended over many switchbacks. I had lunch at the top of Alamo. The photo of Alamo Canyon on the right comes from wilderness.com.

Because there was lots of snow and ice on the trail, I had to be careful. I used trekking poles and this allowed me to look around when I was hiking on more level ground. I was rewarded for my vigilance by seeing four elk, five mule deer, and one jack rabbit. The elk must use the hiking trail as it was graced with a multitude of elk droppings. I didn't hike for more than a few steps without seeing elk raisins.

What was most compelling about this hike was the total silence for a large part of it. There was no wind and few birds. When I ate lunch, I was surrounded by silence. There are few things that feed the soul like silence. In silence there are no distractions other than those we create ourselves.

Experiencing this soulful silence reminded me how rare it is in my life. There is almost always noise in my life. Even when I'm typing at my computer in a very silent room, I can still hear the noise of the keys.

The psalmist said, "Be still and know that I am God." Out of stillness and silence can come a stronger relationship with God. I wonder how I can create more silence in my daily life so I won't have to find a wilderness whenever I need nourishing stillness.

Hiking With Hunters

After guest preaching at Pawling United Methodist Church yesterday, I enjoyed a hike in Pawling Nature Reserve. Since the Appalachian Trail runs through this 1,000 acre reserve, I hiked along this famous path. The most spectacular feature I saw was a large waterfall in Duell Hollow Brook. The photo on the left is from the Nature Conservancy website.

This is hunting season in this part of the world and I shared the reserve with a few deer hunters. Orange vests were provided at the trail head so that hunters can distinguish hikers from deer.

Even wearing my orange vest, I felt a sense of wary anxiety during the hike. Although the few rifle shots I heard sounded far away, it stoked my uneasiness. I decided to cut my hike short.

I must admit that the knowledge of deer hunting nearby diminished the spiritual dimension of the hike. Fear is a formidable enemy of mindfulness. When you're focused on the possibility, however remote, of meeting a stray bullet, it's difficult to enjoy the beauty of your surroundings. I plan to avoid hikes with hunters in the future!

Hiking Mount Greylock

On Columbus Day, I took the day to hike to the top of Mount Greylock, the highest point in Massachusetts at 3,491 feet. The day was excellent for hiking: cool and clear. When I started hiking, the temp was 35 degrees. However, the trail was uphill all the way to the summit and I quickly warmed up. The photo above is of Mount Greylock and fall colors from images.ibsys.com/

I took the Hopper Trail to the summit, so named because it parallels a deep ravine that looks like a grain hopper. The trail took me through tunnels of fall colors. The leaves are at their peak in this part of Massachusetts this week.

At ½ mile from the top, the Hopper Trail joined the Appalachian Trail. There, I was joined by hundreds of residents of the town of Adams located at the Eastern base of Greylock. They were doing the annual Adams Ramble. The mood was festive as everyone huffed and puffed up the last steep ascent.

The views from Greylock were worth the ascent. I could see the Green Mountains of Vermont, the White Mountains of New Hampshire and the Adirondacks in New York. On rock monuments there were several quotes from Henry David Thoreau, who ascended Greylock in 1844 and penned these words:

"As the light increased, I discovered around me an ocean of mist, which by chance reached up exactly to the base of the tower and shut out every vestige of the earth, while I was left floating on this fragment of the wreck of a world, on my carved plank, in cloudland. . . . As the light in the east steadily increased, it revealed to me more clearly the new world into which I had risen in the night, the new terra firma perchance of my future life. There was not a crevice left through which the trivial places we name Massachusetts, or Vermont or New York, could be seen, while I still inhaled the clear atmosphere of a July morning - if it were July there. All around beneath me was spread for a hundred miles on every side, as far as the eye could reach, an undulating country of clouds, answering in the varied swell of its surface to the terrestrial world it veiled. It was such a country as we might see in dreams, with all the delights of paradise."

In nature, Thoreau found genius, divinity and the sacred. For him the natural world was a palette on which the Divine Artist had painted a masterpiece. I, too, find in nature a place of spiritual refreshment and renewal. At the end of my 11 mile hike my overwhelming emotion was that of gratitude.

Spiritual Refreshment in the Devil's Den

Yesterday, I took a 4 mile hike in Devil's Den Preserve in Weston, CT. I've been hiking there regularly for the past 5 years. The photo to the right shows a pond and stream, one of many in this lovely 1,700 acre preserve.

To the untrained eye, Devil’s Den is a singularly unspectacular place. It has no tall peaks or breath-taking vistas. It is mostly Connecticut deciduous forest with a few evergreens. It has streams and wetlands and one river, the west branch of the Saugatuck River, running along its western side. It has many rock outcroppings, the result of a glacier receding from Connecticut during the last Ice Age. By Rocky Mountain standards, these rock formations are not even foothills.

Yet, I find Devil’s Den to be a deeply spiritual place. For me it is a place of natural and unspoiled beauty-- a quintessential example of a Connecticut landscape. When I hike there, I leave refreshed and renewed. It is a soul feeding experience.

I’m keenly aware of the irony that one of the key places in my spiritual world is called Devil’s Den. I’m not really sure why it was so named, but I like the aura of danger and mystery implied in it. Perhaps it’s the chaotic rock formations and dead trees crisscrossing the forest that caused it’s namer to envision it as a place where the Devil hangs out. I only know that it is a place where I feel connected with the spiritual dimension of life.

On the sign at the entrance to Devil's Den "spiritual refreshment" is listed along with "hiking, nature trails, and cross-country skiing" as activities offered in this preserve. Everyone needs to discover a place they can go for spiritual refreshment. Everyone needs to find their own Devil's Den.