There's a thread now in the archives from 2006 with this header.  I thought I would revive it on here since I couldn't reply to it over there.

Azalea originally posted this response.
"Its my equivalent of going to church/temple/mosque/...

As a scientist, I personally can't buy all the baggage in mainstream religions.  For a long time if asked, the only honest answer I could give was that I was an atheist.  But I was watching Charlie Rose one night and guest Daniel Dennett gave me a better answer. He pointed out that one definition of god is a power greater than that we can imagine (at least that is the gist of what I remember). Given that definition, I find it hard for anyone to be an atheist.  Certainly, the structure and complexity of nature is beyond what I can imagine.  I believe in evolution. That we are the result of billions of years of "growth" certainly speaks of a system of unimaginable power.

So going to canoe country allows me to get closer to the natural environment than I usually am, which given my thoughts on god, are equivalent to why some people attend their form of religous service."

I feel the same way.  I certainly love the fishing and the cameraderie of a trip but it's the process of unplugging from our hectic culture that I love.  Feeling the silence and seeing the brilliant stars in a black sky.... I just see the place as a sort of church.  I'm not one for organized religion but definitely am a believer in a higher power. 

I've always wanted to take my canoe out on the lake when there's a clear sky and no moon.  Just float out in the middle and take in the sky.  That's going to be a goal on this years trip. Maybe the wolves will howl in appreciation.  ;)

Quote:

Feeling the silence and seeing the brilliant stars in a black sky.... I just see the place as a sort of church.  I'm not one for organized religion but definitely am a believer in a higher power.

I was raised Roman Catholic but like many people, I developed an "issue" with "organized" religion.

I tell people I'm NOT a religious person, but I think I'm a Spiritual one to some degree.

  You get out in the Q or anyplace that for a moment you can escape man's influence and look at the night sky on a clear night and tell yourself there is no order/planning there.

I don't think you can and really believe it.

What it does for me is to remind me just how  small/insignificant man really is in the big scheme of things.

  I also believe that IF you want to talk to "GOD" then NOTHING man-made can rival the splendor and awe as being in one of Nature's Grand Cathedrals to have that "conversation".

TomT, ST & All -

My thoughts on the subject are perhaps best summed up in the very LAST line of a post made on QJ by a young 20-something - he went by the handle of "Akula" - back in November of 2008.  It may be my favorite all-time post on QJ.  Here are the contents of that entire post:
*********************************************************
"Personally speaking, I think I was born in the wrong century.

In today's world of technological sorcery, instant gratification, wanton waste, and reckless consumerism, the feeling of being human has become something of a rare and fleeting thrill. The wilderness, and canoe country, remind me that wisdom, grit, and self-reliance are the only things that will grant one a seat at life's poker table - at least those of us whose last names don't matter, and who don't measure the depths of our pockets in fathoms.

The wilderness represents freedom and FAIRNESS; the latter of which, it seems, is in short supply outside of its borders. There's too many people with too many nonsensical convictions; and in our attempt to simplify the world through progress, we have only managed to lead ourselves toward the path of self-destruction. My heart aches for the future, and the horrible things we will have to overcome, if we can.

In the future, I fear that a place of wilderness like the BW/Q will be looked at only as a security variable that must be eliminated, or a tract of land that must be developed in order to support our already over-capacity population.

I fear that the invisible borders of adulthood are fading into obscurity, and that the lines between right, wrong, and legal have become an incomprehensible mess of gray space and bullshit. I fear that as a society, the things we respect and admire are things that get us nowhere; and serve only to reinforce a standard of living that is both selfish and destructive.

But for now, we can treasure these wild places and the secrets they tell us. Perhaps with conservation and smart legislation, these public oases of solitude will remain just that, but only time will tell if this is only a pipe dream. We may have to start traveling to the Far North to get the same kind of escape that we now enjoy so close to home.

Am I rambling a bit much here? I'm just trying to be realistic. I guess everything I feel can be summed up in a sentence:

By the light of a simple campfire, I can see all the way to Heaven."
******************************************************

"Akula" is no longer 20-something.  Several years ago he quit his job in the Dakota oil fields, sold his canoe, and found a job in the mountains of Montana (where he could do some serious fly-fishing).  We haven't heard from Akula in a very long time.  Nevertheless, every trip up north since, I've watched my sparks ascend to the stars and contemplated on what that young man had to say.

Jimbo   8-)

Thanks for that re-post Jimbo  [smiley=thumbsup.gif]
The young man (then) was wise beyond his years.
I hope Akula has found what he was looking for at least in some small way.

Akula's post is interesting and very thought provoking.  I only found 3 words that were bothersome.  "Sold his canoe"

MossBack

Great thread!  I like the longer posts; they're thought-provoking and inspiring.

Like others, I've been through Catholicism, atheism, agnosticism, and Buddhism.  I pitch my tent at the junction of reason and awareness.  I tell people Boundary Waters trips are like a priest's going to church.  Makes 'em think.

As for God and being human, here's something to chew on.

Humans are (perhaps) unique in their ability - and need - to make meaning.  This is where God comes from.  God is a projection of human awareness.  We perceive the powerful workings of our own psyches, but we don't understand everything around us.  So we project the mystery outward and call it real (but just because you believe it doesn't make it so).

When I'm in the wilderness I'm tempted to credit God for its existence as well as my ability to appreciate it.  Then I realize that my experience of beauty - as well as my awareness that it's all so much greater than I am - is all in my head.  Certain spiritual people call this the coexistence of immanence (being in the here and now) and transcendence (going beyond the here and now).  It's wonderful to settle into that because then there's nothing between me and the world - no ideas, no theories, no spirituality - just the world, which happens to have me in it in this place and at this moment.

At such times I'm reminded of the words to a John Denver song:

Oh, I love the life around me.
I feel a part of everything I see,
And oh, I love the life within me.
A part of everything is here in me.

And that's where I stop thinking and just "be."

The wilderness experience is a kind of mental stretching, an attempt to expand my awareness to the point that I can let everything be "here in me."

God is so much easier, but this way is so much more real.

So, to the question of why I return year after year, I would answer simply that in this environment I am most able to set aside all that is artificial and connect with everything.  In this setting there are no boundaries but those I have not yet dissolved.

Jimbo, that's a great post from akula.  I read that in the former thread and your comments there and it is what inspired me to bring the thread back to life.

Gavia, I love your post and wrote up a lengthy reply but deleted it.  The "God" topic is similar to sports and politics.  To each his own I say.

Re: Why do we return year after year ??
Reply #2 - 11/15/06 at 12:43:16 Quote   
This is (with a couple of changes) what I posted in 2006.  It is still how I feel.  I never went into the wilderness for my "church" or to "find God."  As a person of faith who spent her life in the church, leading choirs, working as a worship leader, being active with God's people in fellowship, I always felt closer to God in that setting.  For me, going to the outdoors was more about finding myself.  Learning who I really was.  Spartan1 helped me to do that.  Over 42 years of canoe-tripping, and even now, sharing the canoe country with our grandchildren, I learn more about myself, and more about the physical world, by being outdoors.  And for me, eleven years later, I find this little essay still rings true.  I called it, "The Silence".

Why?

The silence.

The sounds:

   loons
   thunder in the distance
   the white-throated sparrow
   waterfalls
   bull frogs in the bogs
   babbling brooks
   a crackling fire
   raindrops on the tent
   moose in October
   wolves
   red squirrels chattering

The silence.

The sights:

   lakes
   eagles
   clouds
   gulls
   reflections
   really old, really tall trees
   otters
   mink
   boulders
   moose
   bears
   pictographs
   loons and chicks
   common mergansers
   cliffs and waterfalls
   red squirrels and chipmunks
   dragonflies
   blown-down timber areas
   wildflowers
   a puddle of butterflies
   that flash of blue water at the end of a long portage

The silence.

The smells: 
   mosses and wild roses
   clean water
   a good smokeless campfire
   something I can’t describe; a special fragrance I always know     when we paddle down a creek or small river—like no other anywhere in my world
   the woods after rain
   pine

The silence.

The touch:

   lying on a warm rock in the sun
   swimming in a pristine lake
   leaning against an old growth pine tree
   making love under the blue sky
   feeling the paddle cut into absolutely smooth, clear water
   the beautiful wooden gunwales of our Bell canoe
   my camera in my hand when the perfect image comes into       focus

The silence.

The taste:

   cheese and crackers at the end of a long portage
   cool filtered water at the end of a long portage
   fresh eggs and bacon cooked over a campfire
   hot chocolate while sitting on a rock overlooking a cold, misty dawn
   Maker's Mark and (filtered) water by the dying campfire on a cool evening
   a perfectly toasted marshmallow

The silence.  Always the silence.
   
   
    
   

TomT wrote on Mar 20^th, 2017 at 12:17pm:

Gavia, I love your post and wrote up a lengthy reply but deleted it.  The "God" topic is similar to sports and politics.  To each his own I say.

TomT -

I appreciate your comment.  We all come from different places yet, every year, we choose to visit the very same place. 

This thread is a good one to the extent we can be respectful and uplifting of each other.  I expect that's why most of us come to QuietJourney.

By no means do I wish to dissuade provocative thinking and discussion.   However, if we do not exercise some care, mindfulness and respect, the tenor of such discussion can go south in a hurry.

When I find myself "trailing off" or leaning a little much one way or another, sometimes I find it best to take the discussion off-line via PM's.

So far, I couldn't be happier with what I've read in this thread.  Spartan 2's re-post of "The Silence" got it right (for me) right down to the Maker's Mark!

Great stuff to read on this very first day of Spring, 2017!  The year feels promising....

Jimbo   8-)

TomT wrote on Mar 20^th, 2017 at 12:17pm:

Jimbo, that's a great post from akula.  I read that in the former thread and your comments there and it is what inspired me to bring the thread back to life. Gavia, I love your post and wrote up a lengthy reply but deleted it.  The "God" topic is similar to sports and politics.  To each his own I say.

Thanks, Tom.  I, too, deleted much of my original post, and for the reason you give.  But to understand the in-this-moment connection, I have to first provide the background.  I might have offered it with this preface: Take what you like and leave the rest, which is just a variation on your own statement.

Spartan2, your post/poem touch me deeply.  By the third reading, when I've finally slowed down enough to listen, I'm transported to a place where there's no difference between God and man.  Thank you.

To hear the voices of the forest, lake and stream; to smell the earth that has not seen the manipulation of man's hand and the occasional hint of distant rain on the breeze or the whiff of ozone from a nearby lightening strike; and to taste the champagne-like freshness of a sip from a cup of water that was just lying along side my canoe.  All of these serve as a backdrop to the cornucopia of sights my eyes have beheld, playing in a infinite loop in my mind.  These I employ to subdue the constant buzz of the world in which we live until the cacophony subsides into a mere hum.

dd

DentonDoc wrote on Mar 20^th, 2017 at 6:00pm:

To hear the voices of the forest, lake and stream; to smell the earth that has not seem the manipulation of man's hand and the occasional hint of distant rain on the breeze or the whiff of ozone from a nearby lightening strike; and to taste the champagne-like freshness of a sip from a cup of water that was just lying along side my canoe.  All of these serve as a backdrop to the cornucopia of sights my eyes have beheld, playing in a infinite loop in my mind.  These I employ to subdue the constant buzz of the world in which we live until the cacophony subsides into a mere hum. dd

YES.

To be in the real world.

For me, the allure of Canoe Country, as well as my other wilderness adventures, is best summed up by Edward Abbey:

“Be as I am - a reluctant enthusiast....a part-time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it’s still here. So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, the lovely, mysterious, and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to the body, the body active and alive, and I promise you this much; I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk-bound men and women with their hearts in a safe deposit box, and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this; You will outlive the bastards.”

Nothing describes my trips to the BWCA/Q better than that I do go to breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for awhile and contemplate the precious stillness, the lovely, mysterious and awesome space.

ml

MuleLars -

What a great quote!

One of my favorite recording artists, Tom Russell, does a great song about Edward Abbey:   (You need to Login or Register

Though I think Abbey was mostly a SW desert & mountains guy, his words certainly apply to the North Woods as far as I'm concerned.  Good choice!

Jimbo   8-)

Even if E. Abbey did died at 62, in my book he did out live the bastards.

You can live a life of intention or sit back to wait and see what happens, thinking that is what's meant for you.

Abbey was indeed a southwest guy and he spent a lot of time in Arches, before it was a National Park. In writing about Arches, he said, "This is the most beautiful place on earth. There are many such places."

So he recognized we all may have our own "most beautiful place", and the point is to spend as much time there as you can.

Agreed!
ml

An interesting post, so many kindred spirits here.

For a great many years paddling defined me as a person and I was often asked why do you do it? Especially the long solo expeditions.

After giving it some thought, this is my long and slightly convoluted answer.  :)

I always found on the really long solo trips it took me at least a month to finally shed the trappings of civilization and truly become in tune with my environment. Did I ever feel lonely? No. traveling every day, experiencing new sights and vistas around every bend kept me constantly engaged and filled with wonder.
Time became irrelevant. I slept when I was tired, ate when I was hungry and I was beholden to no one.
The ability to carry everything I needed to function happily on my back gave me an incredible sense of freedom. Food, clothing, shelter, transportation - all distilled down to it's most basic form. More than anything those long trips taught me just how little we as humans need to be happy and content.
That lesson has stuck with me and has fundamentally changed me as a person. To this day I value experiences far more than things and always will.
The spiritual aspect of it has been mentioned and it's very true. How can one not feel it when faced with the magnificence of the landscape you're traveling through? To become intimately connected to that very same environment is as close to a religious experience as I'll ever have.
That aside, doing those long solo trips was empowering, instilling in me a deep seated sense of self confidence. Basically, "if I can do this, well then I can do anything!" Those trips changed my entire outlook on life and gave me the confidence to shape it in the way that I wanted.
Every man is the master of his own destiny. Mine has and always will revolve around wilderness.   
         

Solopaddler, That 30 day reference reminded me of the time I spent in S. America. Sometime during the trip I began dreaming in Spanish and by the time I returned to the states I felt revolted by the materialism and "I want it now" attitude. I wanted to get right back on a plane and leave. That trip was a month long too. I was visiting my sister in the peace corp, traveling with other peace corp volunteers, basically dirt bagging it through Columbia and Peru.

Jim J Solo wrote on Mar 30^th, 2017 at 2:17pm:

Solopaddler, That 30 day reference reminded me of the time I spent in S. America. Sometime during the trip I began dreaming in Spanish and by the time I returned to the states I felt revolted by the materialism and "I want it now" attitude. I wanted to get right back on a plane and leave. That trip was a month long too. I was visiting my sister in the peace corp, traveling with other peace corp volunteers, basically dirt bagging it through Columbia and Peru.

Different experience, but it sounds as though you can relate!

Wonderful thread! Thanks for bringing it back and building on it.  Any reply I would craft would just be cutting and pasting from half a dozen of the above... or just Akula's last sentence, maybe.