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After a few minutes, we rise and keep going. This time I fall behind, and I start thinking about how the beauty and the wonder of this mountain aren’t just at the top; they’re here, right now, around me. Have an open mind on the way up. That’s where the experience is. My whole focus for years and years now has been on a goal, on reaching and achieving. And that goal, no matter how hard I work or how far I go, is always further on. It’s almost like the goal is a mirage, always on the horizon, just out of reach.
I can see Scott up ahead, stopped, waiting for me. I catch up, and we walk on together. We climb the wooden steps to the summit and lean against the railing. There’s a bench, an overflowing garbage can, and a view of the Black Hills in the distance. I look out and around and take it all in. A prayer cloth dangles from a low tree branch off the mountain's side. Someone had to walk to the ledge and lean over to hang it there. I wonder if that person figured it out. I wonder if I will. Here's my chance.
We head back down, winding around and around. I focus on Mrs. Johnson's words.
Figure it out. Okay. Well, let’s see. I’ll start with what I know: I’ve quit my job and sold almost all our stuff. What I don’t know is what to do now. I sit down on the same rock ledge as on the way up and close my eyes.
We’re not the first people to be going through this. I remember talking with an old hippie on Salt Spring once, who told me about how in the sixties they left everything, just simply rejected it and walked away. What else did he say? I focus, trying to remember. He told me that a lot of people couldn’t handle it because they had to give everything up. They went from suburbs to no structure, from meatloaf to no meat, from having everything to having no possessions. They could only handle it for a while, he told me, and then they simply got tired of all the lack. So, they ended up rejoining the system to get it all back.
My eyes pop open. There was something else he said to me, all those many, many years ago. I can’t believe I remember, but I do, clearly. “What they didn’t realize,” he said, “was that they weren’t giving up, they were gaining; they weren’t forfeiting, they were accessing.”
So leaving the system wasn’t their mistake. The mistake was that they didn’t build up the outside. They left the structure and just stood there, empty handed, in a void. They should have taken it to the next level. They needed to reject and embrace. Find what’s true and right and build on that.
I think these last words as I catch up with Scott. Together, we walk down, around, and under an overhanging branch, covered with prayer cloths. Then, we’re done. It’s over. We’ve completed what we came here to do.
It’s mid afternoon. If we drive straight through, we’ll be home by morning. We take turns driving while the other sleeps, and we stop only for food and bathroom breaks. As we roll through the countryside, words I thought on the mountain repeat over and over in my mind. It’s clear what I need to do now: Find what’s true and right and build on that.
We arrive home a day earlier than expected, and Morgen squeals in delight when she sees us. I gather her in my arms and spin her around and feel, for the first time in her short little life, that I’m clear and sure of what we’re going to do. I can picture it, suddenly: a small, comfortable house with apple trees and a vegetable garden that grows our food. We’re surrounded by good friends and neighbors, and we have bonfires at night around the big fire pit in the backyard while someone plays guitar and we all laugh and talk and sing.
That night, after saying goodbye to my dad and Pat, I put Morgen to bed. I rock her to sleep, singing softly and smiling down into her bright, deep eyes. Finally, her eyelids start to droop, and then her eyes close. I keep rocking gently, back and forth. When I’m sure she’s asleep, I join Scott downstairs and tell him about my vision for our new lives together.
“Let’s go create it,” I say. “Let’s leave the whole system behind, once and for all. Let’s walk away and go create the life we really want.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? You’re willing to move?”
“Of course. You know I want us to be happy. If moving will make us happy, we should do it. But we have to do it right,” he adds. “We have Morgen now. We can’t do what we did in Portland.”
“Well, that was stupid. We should’ve moved somewhere where we knew people. We should’ve gone to Salt Spring instead of Portland. We should go to Salt Spring.”
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