It was 2017 and I was in Hawai’i on retreat, hiking through a national park in Kau’ai.
There was trail in some parts but well-worn tracks along ridge lines and razor mountain edges that would plunge into the valley.
Being an Australian on tour, I was mesmerised by the intensity of pure, pristine nature as I looked around and soaked up the atmosphere: it was magical in ways that left me feeling awe-inspired and alive.
Yet, in turning every which way and stopping frequently to take photos, I had fallen behind the group who had ventured further along, and so I hadn’t paid proper attention to the correct placement of my feet along the ridge line that consisted of gravel, dirt and loose rock.
In my interests to catch up, I proceeded to cautiously move forward but misstepped.
The gravel gave way, and I found myself suddenly sliding along my back down the side of the mountain without warning and without the means to stop.
As I pressed in with my sports shoes, I slowed, but the position was so precarious and the mountain so steep that the small rocks I depended on to stabilise me just kept sliding down, and I kept inching further down the ravine.
There was no moment to worry or cry, and as I raised my voice to call for help in hopes that the other hikers could hear me, it caused further vibrations and reverberation of my lungs against the dirt, which meant I slid further down.
I was stuck and I felt helpless yet also surrendered.
As I gazed upon the scenery and remained present, I realised not only how quickly things can change but also how unstoppable and unrelentingly life moves in ways that can make us feel like things are unfair or unjust.
Without feeling sorry for myself in that moment, I thought it was it, and my time had come, or at least serious injury would follow. But there was a calm peace about me.
I didn’t take it personally, and I just figured I would hold on and did for some minutes.
Luckily, being a chatty guy, the group had soon detected that the cheerful guy with the Aussie accent could no longer be heard, and when they turned around and saw I wasn’t there, they turned back to look for me.
When they finally turned around to see me lying on the mountain, they could see the challenge and, after a few failed attempts, formed a human chain that allowed me to crawl back into the safe zone. I was thankful and relieved.
Walking back, I found myself pondering about nature and life, deeply.
One thing that struck a chord with me in that moment, and since, was that nature is not simply fulsome and freeing, it can be fierce and ferocious, but at all times it just is. I realise that the mountain would not weep if I plunged to my death, nor would it cease being mountainous or change because of me. In the same way, as I gazed out to the ocean, I saw the waves hit the shore and thought the waves do not stop their movement; if a wave inadvertently drowns someone, it just carries on, relentlessly, timelessly.
The notion that life suspends movement, or that the laws of physics do not apply to us, was something quite enlightening in that moment to myself, and perhaps, surely, my ego.
It is easy, I guess, to live in our own world and head and think that life plays by our rules and notions of fairness, equity, justice and good conscience. Yet, the reality is that however good or decent, kind and wonderful, talented and beautiful you are, if you misstep or rather behave recklessly then consequences follow without question or exemption.
In more extreme examples, if you were as angelic as a saint and were standing alongside Hitler and both of you jumped without parachutes off a cliff, do you presume that the laws of gravity would somehow cease to operate or apply to you as you fell? Sounds bizarre, perhaps even ludicrous, when placed in this context, yet many of us hold various forms of faulty or dysfunctional beliefs that hold us back or keep us thinking and living in warped or distorted ways.
The lessons here for me were many, but personal responsibility and taking exceptional care was certainly high up on the list. Indeed, the belief that years gone in which I have felt wronged or I considered wasted or maybe insufferable were somehow entitling me to act carelessly or recklessly or am due ‘something’ from life was brought into focus. We are given our life, with all of our baggage and patterns, and it is up to us to heal and transform in ways that respect the gift.
Life is and it is us living more consciously in presence that acclimates us to accessing the life that reflects our essence, not necessarily what we have been through and feel we are owed because of what has happened no matter what we have endured.
May sound harsh, but it is worth reflecting on whether dwelling on your past or your traumas has helped to progress you towards joy and love, freedom and peace or if it has only seemed to keep you tethered to it, or any myriad of things in between…
Letting go and allowing yourself to be free is a process of releasing at deeper and deeper levels so we can live more fully, now, being open to receive life in all its glory.
With heart and happy vibes.