The Heart of the Earth
7 lessons from Yosemite
“The great rocks of Yosemite, expressing qualities of timeless yet intimate grandeur, are the most compelling formations of their kind. We should not casually pass them by, for they are the very heart of the earth speaking to us.” ~Ansel Adams (bold mine)
In my excitement leading up to a recent trip to Yosemite National Park — in California’s Sierra Nevada mountains — I decided to check out what others had to say about it. After reading Ansel’s words, I made sure to listen for what the heart of the earth had to tell me.
Here’s what I heard:
Language is powerful. Did you know the word “Yosemite” means “they are killers” or “those who kill” in Miwok? Apparently, people of the southern and central Miwok tribes gave Native Americans in the valley the name “Yosemite” because of their reputation for killing.
Growing up in California, and even in the months leading up to this trip, I simply thought Yosemite was a cool word, and name, and had never thought about it beyond that. Because we stayed at a campground with an interesting name — Tuolumne (to-all-uh-me) Meadows, it became a point of interest to dig deeper into the etymology of names in the park. Discovering the meaning of the name Yosemite was sobering. I was at once filled with a sense of sadness, awe, and gratitude.
It’s important to know where you’re going. Wasn’t it George Harrison who said, “If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there.”? And the Cheshire Cat / Lewis Carroll (sort of)? I’m sure countless others before and after them, who knew they needed some direction, have said something similar.
Nevertheless, like Yosemite, earth is a vast place with countless directions to take. It’s good to always carry your compass close, and make sure you’re on the path you most desire. Otherwise you might end up crashing a bear party or worse, sitting at your campsite unsure which way to go and missing all the fun.
It’s also good to get lost sometimes. There will be times when you set out for a quick, four-mile hike to “Elizabeth Lake” and back, and you end up taking a wrong turn somewhere. You forgot your compass, I know. Don’t worry: so far you have only walked approximately two miles west from your campsite. Or was it south? Take a deep breath.
Think about all the beauty that can come from getting lost — how it shapes and sharpens you as a human. But don’t think for too long because it’s 6pm and you are now walking through lush, green, mosquito infested territory. You should probably run through those green patches, but stay calm. The trail is not that far away. If you can, try to laugh as you find your way back. Once you get back on track, you’re gonna think getting lost was awesome!
Connecting with nature is deeply spiritual. We were fortunate to hike part of the John Muir Trail on our second day, en route to Cathedral Lake. During the last mile or two, we kept getting peek-a-boo views of Cathedral Peak (of the Cathedral Range, nearly 11,000 feet high). In 1869, John Muir made the first recorded ascent of Cathedral Peak and said, as a result, “This I may say is the first time I have been to church in California.”
There’s something about immersing yourself into vast wilderness — walking amongst giant sequoias, climbing mountains that reach into the sky, dipping toes into clear river water, watching wildflowers sway in the wind and birds search for sustenance — that is deeply spiritual. When was the last time you let yourself be wrapped up in the warm, wild, heavenly embrace of nature? It’s out there, waiting for you, ready to fill your spirit.
Moving your body is a great way to spend your time. So is resting. And if you’re walking downhill, slip on some pebbles and fall on your ass, only to get up, take a step, slip and fall on your ass again: you know you’re getting tired and it’s time to slow down. On the third day, after a 7+ hour hike to the face of Half Dome and back (and two falls on my ass), I sat on a curb and drank a beer. I was dirty, tired, and happy.
I couldn’t think of many better ways to spend a day than hiking 11 miles of beautiful earth. It gave me clearness and presence of mind that is hard to come by on an average day. Then to rest on the warm ground drinking a cold beer with a good friend? Days don’t get beary much better than that.
…Then what is afraid of me comes
and lives a while in my sight.
What it fears in me leaves me,
and the fear of me leaves it.
It sings, and I hear its song.Then what I am afraid of comes.
I live for a while in its sight.
What I fear in it leaves it,
and the fear of it leaves me.
It sings, and I hear its song…~Wendell Berry, passage from “I Go Among Trees and Sit Still”
Lean into risk. The week leading up to the trip, I journaled about bears. Anyone camping in Yosemite should know about the likelihood of encountering a bear. It’s such a serious issue, campers are required to keep “anything that goes on or in your body” — as our ranger so eloquently put it — in bear lockers at all times, when not in use.
As it should be when we’re visiting the home of wild animals! It’s all part of the adventure, and it’s worth it to lean into risk. Same goes for starting your own business, following your dream of becoming an interpretive dancer, or confessing your love. What do we get by giving into fear? On the other hand, what do we gain by taking a risk?
Asking for help is a gift. I think most people want to feel needed. And I think most people enjoy helping others. Keep this in mind the next time you drive an hour east of your campsite to take a shower only to discover you’re too late. We hung our heads low and gathered our things when we realized quarters wouldn’t work. We needed two tokens, and the RV park office was closed.
I was standing outside by the car, waiting for my friend when a woman walked by. We made small talk about the showers, and I somehow mustered the courage to say, “You wouldn’t happen to have some extra tokens you could sell me, would you?” Without skipping a beat, she grabbed two tokens from her pocket and handed them to me with a smile. “You can have them,” she said. Two gifts. One for me, and one for her.
