To Live Deliberately.

Almost halfway into this hike, and I think I finally found a way to put to words why I'm here doing this.

"I went to the woods to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

- Henry David Thoreau

See, that's a pretty famous quote, and one I identify with strongly, but what does it mean and how does it still apply in the year 2015? 

I'll do my best to explain:

In our every day lives we're assaulted by a continuous stream of manufactured experiences. Experiences that don't necessary have any value beyond temporarily relieving us of going through the motions of work, sleep, eat.

Yeah, yeah, certain shows and movies and music can provoke strong emotional reactions, but they're meant to do that. In fact, the vast majority of people consuming the same media are probably having a ridiculously similar emotional experience as you. It's totally synthetic, manufactured. It was made entirely with that purpose in mind, to entertain on the most superficial level. And the worst part is that so many of us are convinced that these experiences are authentic, real.

But they're not. They're designed to seduce and pacify. To alleviate the stagnancy of our real lives. You know, the boring process of work, sleep, eat. And they leave us just satisfied enough to not seek out something more, something grander and more profound. They destroy the potential within all of us before we realize it's even there.

And so our lives play out and we do nothing. We become nothing. And we die, finding that we have not lived.

And so I'm scared. But also I'm invigorated. Filled with a restlessness that cannot be satiated.

Flashback to May 1st. I'm in Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It's very, very early morning and it's cold. So cold. It snowed the night previous because I guess the Smokies didn't get the memo that Spring was here.

I'm wearing literally every piece of gear I have, including my rain jacket, in a failed attempt to maintain a comfortable body temperature. But I'm not comfortable. My whole body is wet, the trail is mud and slush, and I didnt sleep at all the night previous (on account of Cold, and also on account of Two Teenagers Laying The Wrong Way In The Shelter And Kicking Me In The Head All Night). Regardless, I'm going fast, absently munching on a bland macro bar and barely taking notice of the flavor. My mind is on other things.

Like my immediate environment.

At 6000 feet following a snowstorm, the trail looks and feels like purgatory. I haven't seen anyone else in probably ten miles and for all I know, I've stepped off the side of the world and will wander through a haze of fog eternally.

The snow seems to be growing horizontally off the tree branches, three inches thick, on account of the wind.

But as I struggle down the trail listening to the melodic drone of Jesu, something starts to happen. The sun is coming out, trying its damnedest to pierce the thick layer of mist.

It begins to win, and just as a ray of sunlight hits my face, a wind picks up, gathering the snow and ice from the trees, bringing it to lightly grace the only exposed part of my body, my face. It immediately melts and falls to the forest floor, evaporating almost instantly, too quick to make any sense, and just as I watch the steam rise from the ground, Justin Broadrick croons through my headphones, "Silver's just another gold..."

A smile parts my sunburned lips, cracking my just-healed scabs. I unconsciously lick them dry and immediately taste blood.

In this moment, witnessed by no one, manufactured by no one, I know this experience to be mine, fully mine.

And I realize, I am alive, and I will not squander my life.