In Love with the Alpine

I never knew what they meant by “be yourself.” Aren’t I always myself? If I start making an effort to be “more” myself, to be more authentic, haven’t I inadvertently become less myself, less authentic? Won’t I have begun to cater my actions and my expressions to what I think it should look like to be myself? At that point, I am no longer operating from a deeper sense of self; I am operating meta-cognitively, superficially.

Besides, aren’t I just a product of our culture? All my beliefs and values, don’t they just represent every experience I’ve had up to this point? Isn’t who I currently am just a blend of my five closest friends? I think I read that once. Probably on a self-help or productivity blog.

How can I be myself if I seem so… malleable? If whenever I try to, I seem to actually be straying from my Self.

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“All my particles will disband and disperse, and I’ll be back in the pulse…” - Fiona Apple

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Something I have always loved about the mountains is that they are unashamed to be themselves. They are unapologetically authentic. Always. They can never be anything but themselves. And they have no preconceived notions of who we should be. Or what we should do. Or how we should do it. In fact, they have no notions at all. Well, that’s not quite right, either.

Because they do. They do have some ethereal knowledge. They follow some predetermined path, some intuition, some knowingness. They are right where they should be. There is nowhere else they should be. They do exactly as they should. There is nothing else they should be doing. They just are.

Can we do that, too?

If we are all part of the same underlying cosmic consciousness, part of the same bigger cosmic plan, then why not?

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It was in the mountains that I first noticed that my body speaks to me. A knowing that comes not from my brain, but from my physical body. It tells me when something is wrong. Or when something is right. Like butterflies in your stomach when you meet someone you like. Or when you have do something you really don’t want to do, and your chest feels tight and your hands get tense.

When I first went into the alpine, it was in the Tetons, and I knew I was meant to be there. I knew that I would fall deeply in love with them. That I already was. I’ve met people and had that same feeling, too: that I will love them, and they will love me, and we will inevitably leave massive imprints on one another’s lives, forever. Even upon first glance, I can feel certain that I was destined to meet them, to know them, to love them. And in those situations, I will think thank god I took the long way to class today or who knew spilling my coffee and getting stuck in traffic would result in this. Signs, serendipities, synchronicities, call it what you want. But there are no coincidences.

When I first went into the alpine, it was with Nancy, and I knew she was meant to be there with me. Without knowing her, you might not have realized Nancy was special. But I did. I knew she was special. Sure, there are plenty of people in Jackson more accomplished, risky, bold, capable, experienced. There always are. Especially in Jackson. There will never not be someone faster, better, stronger, crazier, and in Jackson, it’s likely that they’re your friend or your friend’s friend, your neighbor or your neighbor’s neighbor. They can flash your biggest outdoor project before even going into work that morning (that’s Jackson for ya).

But none of that mattered. Because Nancy was incomparably special in my eyes; there was no comparison to even be had between her and the other mountain athletes. She was in a league of her own. She was a goddess to me, and I loved and admired her unconditionally.

I imitated her rules of the mountains, replicated her conservative decision making and mama-bear protective mode. Even now when I go into the mountains without her, I can hear her reminding me how polished that particular boulder is, the narrowness of that couloir, the importance of checking to see if the rock is loose or hollow before placing my gear. When I guide others, I mimic her style of teaching, her caution, her helpful warnings to unsuspecting and clueless clients, her confidence-building comments and words of praise. It’s her humility, too, that used to baffle me. Never mentioning the crazy feats of human endurance she has undergone, but instead only hyping up those around her, fanning their flames of stoke over routes she has done hundreds of times. She knew who she was, and she didn’t need anyone to tell her.

The way I see Nancy - I could never quite grasp the idea that other people could see me and love me like that, too. Unconditionally, that is. Without comparing me to everyone else. Simply cherish my soul and spirit and energy the way I cherished Nancy’s. Without wanting to change it.

It was she who showed me how to survive in the alpine. And she who understands what I mean when I say that the alpine cleanses my confused and muddled energy, restores my vibrational frequency to its proper tuning. Because the alpine always vibrates at the right frequency, existing in alignment with the Source, with the deeper consciousness underlying all particles, underlying the fabric of the universe. All of my wild and conflicting vibes bounce around in the canyons, reverberating off the granite. She gets this.

I go through cities, towns, zoom calls, life, picking up everyone’s jumbled and scattered energy, their outpouring and aura of scattered vibes when they’re not operating from the most-central and highest form of Self. I am easily disoriented by what they want, who they are, how to please them. I am so sensitive. It blurs my path, clouds my North Star. But then I go into the alpine. And She absorbs it all, leaving me with nothing but the universal stream of consciousness, a purpose and love for all life.

I feel raw and exposed in the alpine. But in a good way. In a freeing way. My emotions are laid bare on the snow that could slide at any instant, my ego falls away like the loose rock in a big shedding. And despite the inherent dangers, this is where I have begun to feel safest. The pressures of society, the rules that I have made for my life (in a desperate attempt to control the uncontrollable) drift away with the wind. Everything becomes neutral, simply alive, without assumptions and cultural conditioning and shoulds.

Nancy taught me countless technical rope skills over the years. She taught me knots and rescue techniques and layering systems. But that’s not why I am indebted to her. Nor is it why I love her. I am indebted to her because she taught me about the type of love that transcends, that exists in the towering spires and rock faces of the mountains, as well as in the streams flowing through the canyons, in the thick clouds overhead, and the soggy lichen underfoot. The love and guidance and wisdom that I can find in the alpine. Or in myself, when the alpine strips me of all my layers of bullshit.

I would complain to Nancy that I wasn’t the fastest, the skinniest, the strongest. I wasn’t enough. I would never be enough.

And she would always say,

you may not be the fastest, but you’ll still be Ellie.

you may not be the skinniest, but you’ll still be Ellie.

you may not be the strongest, but you’ll still be Ellie.

And that was enough.

Because I’ll always be Ellie.

She would say this as if there was some core part of me that would still exist regardless of the status of other impermanent and volatile parts of my physical body. Because there was. There is. Always. No matter my pace up the skin track, the size of my pants, the number in my bank account. This central Self is not malleable. It can distinguish between the diverse energies and voices I absorb in cities and towns and airports and public restrooms. It knows who I am, what life is. It knows of the eternal nature of my spirit, the continuum of time and space, the future, the love all around us, the endless creativity from the Source, the abundance of meaning and purpose. It is the same as the mountains, the rivers, the rocks. This permanent and transcendent essence makes me me. Some inner Self in touch with the Source. Some inner Self that is the Source. Irreplaceable, immutable, untouchable by all of our earthly materialism. This is the part of me that Nancy loved. And that’s the part of her that I loved, too.

The mountains constantly exist in this state, this higher frequency of being. They just are. Their spirit, their soul, it is stoic and impassive and eternal and cosmic. Humans are naturally drawn to those and that which exist in this state, at this frequency. It is magnetic, alluring, calming. It is boundlessly creative. Not even death can change this unchangeable soul of ours, this deepest consciousness that permeates everything.

As I struggle to feel lovable without my layers of armor to protect me - my blonde hair, my skinny body, my designer shoes - I am forced to remember my innate beauty, humanity, brightness, spirit. So I go into the mountains to be reminded. And up in the alpine, my energy is cleansed, stripping me of everything but love. And that is when I become the mountains. We are all just love.

I want to remain detached and liberated like this forever. Free-flowing. Evolving. My everlasting essence staying the same even as my transient identity morphs and moves with the seasons, the tides, the moon cycles, the cyclic nature of everything. Now I know how to be myself. Because there is something innately mine, that is the same in you and in me and in that tree and that bird and this desk and that peak and even that tiny puddle on the sidewalk. It is beyond my genetics, past my upbringing and childhood experiences. Larger than nature or nurture. Something ethereal and spiritual. Every tree branch and tree root shares it. And when my physical body perishes, this Self will return and come back in a new form, all my carbon atoms, all those particles with their conscious purpose. The matter will remain, never ceasing to exist, unable to be created nor destroyed, instead joining the universal consciousness that speaks to all of us, from both within ourselves and from the external natural world. And I will speak to you one day, giving you infinite and timeless love and guidance, like the mountains and trees have given me.