Part of Something Larger

Rain: loud enough to force our voices to shout in order to be heard above the noise.

Wind: strong enough I fear my body will become airborne and swept away with the clouds.

I, a human, am out of my element in the midst of these elements.

Life stories. Questions asked. “In a hypothetical cage fight who are you fighting and who do you want to impress?”

I think this mountain overheard our private McKinley Fly conversation and said, “challenge accepted.”

To the mountain nothing is private. To the mountain nothing is left as personal. My feet are no longer my own. My toes are so cold that I almost feel the mountain might’ve taken them, and will keep them for good.

Then why am I here? Is it to feel small? Perhaps, but not quite.

Not to feel small, but to realize that I am not my own. I am not personal or private, but a part of something much larger. Something that I’m not at the center of. Something more powerful than myself.

And in that realization, once I embrace it, there is peace and rest. An end to striving and the beginning of watching (in awe) as the power moves, and joining with the power in its movement. Allowing myself to be moved. Realizing that I’m not the primary mover. That there is a primary mover greater than the mountains themselves, who even controls their movement. 

-Skye Cornell, Mountain Guide