OPM 198, August 31st Meditation (2004 & 2014) The Legend of Zararthustra continues

First, a few notes from today, which we spent in Crawford Notch, White Mountains, New Hampshire.   As we were driving through North Conway, and exactly at the moment when the main street passes the Mount Washington Observatory administration offices, we heard the following forecast read on the radio from atop Mt. Washington, from the  MWOBS:

Warm, moist air will continue to pump into the region ahead of a cold front from the west. This will not only boost temperatures but it with increase instability allowing for widespread rain showers and thunderstorms. Thunderstorms may bring sudden and strong gusts of wind, small hail, and heavy periods of rain. As the front approaches, it will slow meaning heavy downpours might become stationary leading to a risk of flash flooding in neighboring ravines and low lying areas around the summit, especially during the afternoon. Unsettled weather should dampen overnight only to fire up once again on Labor Day as the front remains overhead and the warm, moist flow continues to stream in.

After noting the coincidence of driving past the MWOBS office while the report from MWOBS on the summit was heard on our car radio, I said to Kelly:  “Did you hear that report, and catch the bit about hail and heavy periods of rain?   Well you should check out what I wrote ten years ago yesterday! Now that’s coincidental!”

 Next, was the vision, yes, the vision I experienced when we were hiking up Crawford Path, the oldest continuous hiked mountain trail in the U.S. (important emphasis on the U.S. and hiking because that continuity is based on settler history, and the use of a hiking trail for the sole purpose of mountain hiking, as opposed to trading, hunting, gathering, etc.)

The caveat is important because when we were hiking on Crawford Path, which ultimately leads to the summit of Mt. Washington, we stopped to explore Gibbs Falls.  

Hiking with four year old Jaime, who has really taken to the exploration of the wilderness, is slow and steady and our limit is about an hour to an hour and a half on the mountain.  We don’t push it, although sometimes he needs to be pushed, as happened last week when Kat and I were hiking with him on Bradbury Mountain.   So we were fortunate to encounter Gibbs Falls, and to spend a time there, just the three of us, listening to the falls, and climbing up along the rocks that run parallel to them.  While we were relaxing around the pool of water, I looked up at a ledge about 40 feet high next to the falls, and I had a vision of two of my brethren from a time long ago, wearing buckskin pants, shirts and moccasins  Their dark hair was braided, and for a moment, just a moment, I felt their presence feeling mine there too.   Meditative thinking is a peculiar, fascinating, engine of imagination, for sure.   When it's authentic it offers a totally uncontrived experience, a feeling and perception all too real.    And after it had passed I said to Kelly, “I’ve just experienced one of Thoreau’s visions!” And  when I said that to her I had this particular moment in mind, the excerpt from Thoreau's Katahdin essay,  which I wrote about a month ago:

“Can you well go further back in history than this? Ay! ay!  -- for there turns up but now into the mouth of Millinocket stream a still more ancient and primitive man, whose history is not brought down even to the former.  In a bark vessel sewn with the roots of the spruce, with horn beam paddles, he dips his way along.  He is but dim and misty to me, obscured by the aeons that lie between the bark canoe and the batteau.”

The final moment I want to share happened as we were leaving the notch.   We drove down from the Appalachian Mountain Club’s Highland Center – our base of operations when we visit Crawford Notch – to the gas and food store that is across the road from Bretton Woods.   As we were leaving and had just passed the entrance to Bretton Woods, Kelly pointed to the railroad tracks and said, “Is that a real bear?”  Sure enough, standing with one paw on the rail was a big headed black bear, motionless so that he appeared almost like a statue.   We pulled over to have a look at the handsome powerful and all too rare sight!   No sooner had we been watching him, when he turned and sped back into the forest.   A remarkable moment to complete a memorable day in the mountains!

All this is prelude to excerpts from the legend of Zarathustra that continued on this day ten years ago.  Here are some excerpts, without commentary, from the scenes described on the last day of August, 2004, picking up with the return of Don Quixote and his companion, Sancho Panza, who is preparing breakfast:

“He looked eagerly at the salmon, cleaned and ready to be broiled upon the fiery coals.  The thought inspired him to sneak a quick swig form his boda, an anticipatory celebration.  He moved on to cut small pieces of cheese and melon, when he saw the Maestro with his trusty Rozinante nearing the stranger they had encountered on their Westward journey.  ‘The Great Awakener’ had returned to complete his appointed duty.  Sancho was bemused, and not entirely by the contents of his boda, at the sight of Don Quixote perched over the motionless figure lying on the stones and dust.  Sancho recalled how the Maestro had told him of this ‘Lost Man’ who spoke with the words of one who had vanquished many a foe, and had travelled to the farthest ends of the Earth, but, in fact, had spent most of his life asleep, dreaming.  Don Quixote had tried to rouse him to stand up and turn around; to seek adventure, to climb the highest peak of the Eastern Range, but the Lost Man appeared not to have been moved by the guiding words of the sage from La Mancha…Sancho felt a twinge of resentment at the care and concern the Maestro was showing towards this Lost Man. ‘Why does Maestro show such compassion to this one who is either content to remain sleeping and dreaming – a worthy profession, in fact – or is so trapped by his own isolation and despair that he can not appreciate the gift that is being offered?’  Concluding he was a mixture of both, but mostly the latter, Sancho gobbled up a few pieces of the melon and cheese he had set aside for the stranger, washed it down with another swig from the boda, and turned finally! to perform the broiling of the fish.

…‘Look how you remain in the very spot where we left you! I have good reason to let you alone in your loneliness, but my heart tells me you need nurturing, care, and above all some food and drink.’  With that said Quixote lowered his lance and poked Zarathustra gently in the midsection…He must wake this stranger, feed him, and get moving quickly, for much adventure awaited them as they returned across the plain and headed East.  He poked once more at the idle man’s mid-section and, astonished, saw a smile appear on the still sleeping face.  Finding this most comical, Don Quixote began in earnest to tickle Zarathustra under his arms, his feet, legs, until he awoke with laughter, something he had never before experienced. 

Zarathustra opened his eyes to find the strange figure of Don Quixote astride Rozinante.  ‘So, dream figure, my ‘Great Awakener’, you have returned!’  Both men gazed at the other for some time without saying anything.  Zarathustra’s laughter had settled into the grin of one most rested, while Don Quixote was relaxed by the relief that he could complete this errand with success….‘Come, join us as we gather together for a hearty meal around the warmth of the fire.  We must eat well, for much adventure awaits us as we wander and rove our way to the great range in the East.  We will guide you to the trail that will take you to the cave, and beyond, to the peak of which I spoke when we first met. You who have welcomed me this glorious morning shall be, in turn, welcomed into the company of our community of man and beast….

‘See there how our your brother waves to us.  The morning meal is ready!’  Zarathustra’s eyes closed again as he was caught by the whiff of lemon, garlic, salmon and mesquite, a bait so enticing he was carried away without uttering a word, silenced by the generosity of these strangers; released finally, from the chains of cynicism and despair.  He was ready not to be taken by the journey, to wander alongside these pilgrims, these students of errantry.’

nb:  a ‘knight errant’ is an old descriptive word applied to roaming, roving, voyaging, wandering, which are exactly the same descriptions that apply to the movement and way of the learning community.  Used at the end of the writing from 8/31/04, it is meant to show the transition from the sedentary life.   There is also an important pun with the construction of the neologism ‘errantry’.   To be a student of errantry is to be a wandering learner, but also, an errant learner, which is to say, one who is misbehaving, delinquient, troublesome, and even unruly, and disobedient; the opposite of the innocent and law-abiding student

Finally, I couldn’t help but think of our encounter with the black bear when re-typed Don Quixote claim that Zarathustra would be “welcomed into the company of our community of man and beast….”   Of course, the indexical reference is to the forthcoming events [in the sense of the chronology of events that will ultimately unfold for him once he had reached the mountain cave] and to the friends he will make there: the eagle and the snake.