Advertisements
RSS Feed

Tag Archives: Glacier National Park

Silence of Poetry

Current shares the same etymological roots as curriculum: currere.

How we make meaning of living is like the spaces between words in a poem. It is in silence that meaning emerges. It flows between the words and stanzas.

We need silence in our lives to find meaning. It is standing on the edge of a mountain lake without others. There is a peace there.

“We are all visitors to this time, this place. We are just passing through. Our purpose here is to observe, to learn, to grow, to love… and then we return home.” Aboriginal Proverb

Living is a text,

Traveling through time and space,

Leaving others to ponder meaning;

A meaning that is never whole.

Engulfed in silence,

Emerging from a peace(ful) moment,

One’s inner voice speaks;

As if an other speaks.

Wrapped in meditative moments

When silence is a poem,

Bringing the text to life;

Sending it on its way again.

 

This is a small lake we walked to in Glacier National Park.

Advertisements

Miracles

Again, today I jotted some notes in a small coffee shop while sipping tea. I thought how  counsels that each moment reveals the extraordinary. When we are mindful and sensitive to those moments we lift them up and they are miracles happening around us all the time.

I taught a student who had Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. He was a sweet young man and I made sure I was at school to greet him each morning as he got off the bus. One morning, he got off the bus and was wearing a fedora. I greeted by saying “hi boss!” I told him looked like Frank Sinatra. He had no idea who that was, so I found videos and played Frank Sinatra. Whenever that student wore his fedora, I greeted him as the boss. He smiled as it seemed to mean something more than ordinary.

When I am not attentive and mindful, I miss many opportunities. It reminds me of Maya Angelou‘s quote: “A friend may be waiting behind a stranger’s face.”

What do I walk past?

It seems ordinary in passing;

Yet, looking deeper

I see it:

The (extra)ordinary.

The ordinary unfolds

Revealing its extra-ness

Its depth and breadth

Richness hiding in plain sight.

A moment holds miracles

Waiting to show themselves off

Asking to be seen with new eyes

Sharing their more-ness.

I took this picture in Glacier National Park. The driftwood was polished and on the beach of the lake we were hiking around. What do I not see and hear? It is in the story of how this driftwood ended up here.

The Path

The Path.

This is a short poem which speaks to the humble beginnings each of us lives. Somehow, we occasionally forget these humble beginnings and the idea that each moment is its own humble re-beginning. We live in the most immediate time possible, now.

Taking time and realizing the path is made with each new step is a humbling experience, sometimes humiliating and always human. All these words, humble, humiliate, and human, share a common root, the word humus.

A path made of humus reminds us that there is a cycle to life. Each moment passes into a never fully retrievable history. In each moment, we live our questions when we are mindful and attentive in the world, not as observers. We live in community with the world and all its phenomena, sentient and non-sentient.

Talk About Walking

When we were in Waterton Lakes National Park two summers ago, we were able to go down the big lake into Montana’s Glacier National Park and hike. As we got off the boat, we asked one of the guides where a good place to go would be. He asked where we wanted to go and I answered, “Just for a walk and see where it takes us.”

It would be difficult to get off the ‘beaten path as it is pretty rugged country. Despite this, I think some days it is nice just to wander and wonder where the day takes us. Philip Booth does a wonderful job reminding us there is so much outside these walls we think of as our life.

Where am I going? I’m going
out, out for a walk. I don’t
know where except outside.
Outside argument, out beyond
wallpapered walls, outside
wherever it is where nobody
ever imagines. Beyond where
computers circumvent emotion,
where somebody shorted specs
for rivets for airframes on
today’s flights. I’m taking off
on my own two feet. I’m going
to clear my head, to watch
mares’-tails instead of TV,
to listen to trees and silence,
to see if I can still breathe.
I’m going to be alone with
myself, to feel how it feels
to embrace what my feet
tell my head, what wind says
in my good ear. I mean to let
myself be embraced, to let go
feeling so centripetally old.
Do I know where I’m going?
I don’t. How long or far
I have no idea. No map. I
said I was going to take
a walk. When I’ll be back
I’m not going to say.

I Believe in All That Has Never Yet Been Spoken

I am getting back into a groove after my first full week home. I let things flow a bit this week. Rilke suggested letting go or not contriving in this poem. When I don’t over plan, I find I am more open and accept the flow of things much like the beginner’s mind of a child. Watching children engrossed in play is a reminder that can happen for me as an adult and, as it does, the river widens and flows in every widening channels. Life becomes somehow larger, but not in an explainable way.

Posting images of our trip through Glacier National Park is believing in all that has never yet been spoken. Nature allows me to speak without using words. It is a palette of creation which speaks without speaking and shares without words. It just is and teaches through its presence.

The role of sabbath is to rest on the swelling and ebbing currents and rest in each moment. Perhaps, as I do, I take an expanded mind and soul into next week.

I believe in all that has never been spoken.

I want to free what waits within me

so that what no one has dared to wish for

may for once spring clear

without my contriving.

If this is arrogant, God, forgive me,

but this is what I need to say.

May what I do flow from me like a river,

no forcing and no holding back,

the way it is with children.

Then in those swelling and ebbing currents,

these deepening tides moving out, returning,

I will sing you as no one ever has,

streaming through widening channels

into the open sea.

 

Logan’s Pass

Logan’s Pass includes the Going to the Sun Road in Glacier National Park. When I looked, the view was spectacular and breathtaking.  The park was named for the many glaciers that are part of the landscape and so visible through Logan’s Pass. The glaciers are slowly receding and some estimates suggest they may be gone by mid-Century.

100_4747

Looking straight across from the road, you can see the ice and snow almost at eye level and further out is Jackson Glacier. The road is dotted with short barriers and are not very wide.

100_4757

The Montana sky is a constant backdrop for the mountains, the ice and snow, and the green in the foreground.

100_4765

A person constantly feels like they are on the top of the world here. People refer to Glacier National Park as the Crown of the Continent and closeness to the tops of the mountains is a reason. Waterfalls are often in view.

100_4784

Here, there are no real barriers at the edge of the road.

100_4793

Kathy took this picture over her shoulder. It shows the switchbacks and curves in the road.

100_4794

I enjoy the contrast provided by the grey granite and the white snow and ice. There is stability and, at the same time, instability visible in nature. The granite looks like it forms a stairway to the top of the world.

100_4811

Glacier Park Mountains, Glaciers, and Logan’s Pass

Kathy took most of these pictures driving through Logan’s Pass. Glacier National Park is appropriately named. Most of the white spots in the pictures are glaciers or snow pack. There are about 37 glaciers left in the park and most of them are receding or shrinking in size.

We came through the park a later in the summer, but there we saw some of the wildflowers in bloom on the way up Looking Glass Hill overlooking Two Medicine Lake. The mountains and lake serve as a spectacular backdrop. We walked around the lake later.

100_4724

This is looking downstream from Running Eagle Falls or Trick Falls. The glacier on the mountain would likely be considered one of the 25 active glaciers in the park. An active glacier is one that is 25 acres or more. Over 90% of the park is wilderness.

100_4717

This is Jackson Glacier. Although it does not look very high, it is deceptive. The roads climb well up into the pass and travelers end up closer to the mountain tops.

100_4740

This is the tourist stop in Logan’s Pass with the mountains in the background. Parking is at a premium here so we did not get to stop.

100_4750

Most of the pictures we took going through the pass were from the car without stopping. Again, the peaks are not much above the road level.

100_4758

Waterfalls ribbon the mountainsides as they are constantly fed by the glaciers.

100_4768

If you look closely at the picture below, you can see about 3/4 of the way up the road on the left side. It is a slight darkening. The middle of the picture, below the background peak, is basically where the road reaches the summit of Logan’s Pass .

100_4782

%d bloggers like this: