Walking in the hills, I feel poetry welling up inside of me
as I gaze at the distant mountain peaks-
in a total state of admiration
at their scale
where, amid nature,
amid the ‘knowledge’ of the universe,
I come to understand a universal truth that often gets forgotten-
I come to acknowledge that, whilst I might be the centre of my own universe-
whilst my problems might seem so big and all-consuming to me–
I am not the centre of the universe.
I am, in fact, so so small,
so insignificant, dare I say it, that, if I were not here, the world would carry on as though I were still in it,
or even, as though I were never in it in the first place.
The knowledge of this does not depress me, though, as one might assume it would, no, it actually empowers me,
only serving to reinforce in my head the idea that there is something so much bigger at play in the universe,
something so far away from our realms of understanding,
what else, other than magic, could possibly explain the mountains?
Nature which owes us nothing, by the way-
(without us, nature would thrive)-
but to which we
(without nature, we could not be).
we must remember this,
and we must never
Instead, we must consciously make the choice to;
Starve the ego,
Feed the soul
lean into our smallness
marvel at the mountains
every… damn… time that we’re walking in the hills.