I started hiking again. My left knee is a little sore from my motorcycle accident back in January, but none the less, it’s worth it. Getting the endorphins going again has been challenging, to say the least. I’ve made some failed attempts at cycling, my heart just isn’t into it like it used to be. Years of cycling, racing, commuting… something has shifted. I don’t know if its sheer laziness or just the fact that its time for something new. Hiking helps. Getting away from the hustle and bustle of cars, people, and just the noise in general. 
I grew up in Western Massachusetts in a small town called Granby just outside of Amherst. We were surrounded by a field of mountains known as the Holyoke Range but more commonly known to the locals as ‘The Seven Sisters’. When I was young it was routine for us to see Mr. Kent taking the dogs for a walk up the mountain. My friends and I would follow in his footsteps and do the same as we got older. Where a lot of kids these days sit around playing XBox or watching TV, we didn’t have such luxury. I think we were fortunate that we didn’t. We were young, we craved adventure. When we weren’t in school we were hiking up the Notch, over the mountains to Lithia Springs and then down behind Gagne’s Package Store to the river where we would sit in the cool water of summer. My brother Derek and I would take a different route when we weren’t with our friends. We would go to Grandma’s house. You see, Grandma lived at the foot of Skinner Mountain on the other side of us in Hadley (Over the River and through the woods to Grandmothers house we’d go). My Uncle Ted and Aunt Merle lived right next door and Aunt Merle’s sister next door to them. The TV show, The Waltons, was more personal to us than you could imagine.
Climbing those ridges was like being with God to me. I wrote in the song, With the Beating of Your Heart, “I’d sit beneath a lonely tree to keep it company”. Solace. My time to sit alone. To think about the world. To wonder why we were here. And although I was an avid reader I struggled with my ADD so most of my learning came from silence, under that tree. That tree that we had all carved our names into. This is where I communed with God. Outside of a church. The woods, the mountains, the streams, the silence… that was church to me. Hiking in the fall. Hearing the leaves crunch under your feet. You could hike for hours and never run across another soul. I would regularly climb across the ridgeline to Skinner Mountain above my Grandmothers house. It is said that George Washington slept there. My Uncle Ted was part of the restoration of the building. He volunteered his time there. We grew up there. It was, in our minds… family. I’ve taken people back there with me. I don’t think it was the same for them as it was for me. The shale rock, the moss, hearing the squirrels scampering around. Heaven.
You see, I never bought religion. My mother sent us to Bible camp when we were kids. Not as punishment… she believed she was doing the right thing and to give her a much needed rest from us. She was a single Mom putting herself through college and doing the best she knew how to. I still remember the name of the bible camp to this day. ‘Word of Life’. At ‘Word of Life’ we became ‘born again’. Not knowing what it even mean’t, but not wanting to be an outsider, we declared our love for Jesus. I’ve always known, or felt, that Jesus was just a man. A great man. Someone like Mr. Kent, who inspired us, got us to think for ourselves. That’s all. I’ve also been the guy that will never put down others beliefs. They are personal (until they start knocking on doors). It’s one thing to have someone ask you about their beliefs as apposed to shoving it down their throats. That is the difference between spirituality and religion to me. Spirituality is your belief where Religion tells you what to believe. And believe me, I’ve struggled with the meaning of it all. Mother Teresa was a great woman who believed in God. She was Catholic yet I consider her a Spiritual being… because she truly believed in something. She believed in people. She didn’t believe because she thought she was going to go to hell if she didn’t. She just believed because she believed in humanity. Martin Luther King was a Christian, but again, he believed in something outside of the religious structure. These were leaders, not followers, or Sheeple as I like to call them. Don’t get me wrong… I’ve done my share of following. It was never for an extended period of time though. It was never a longing to be part of something. It’s never been that. It’s been the longing to experience something.
I joined the Marines to get away from my own demons. It didn’t work. There were still there. At the same time I longed for the experience that the Marines gave me. It was never about getting the bad guys, or ‘Killing a Commie for Mommy’ as we used to say. It was about traveling the world. An opportunity to experience something I never would have been able to experience coming from my humble upbringings. Traveling around the world, I got to see different cultures. I got to see different religions and belief systems. I could no more say they were wrong in their beliefs as I could state that mine were right. Years later I would hear a phrase that would have the most meaning to me, the phrase that would tie together all that I’ve experienced and seen.
“There is no such thing as wrong or right but what works and what doesn’t work.” Sigh. Hearing that phrase spoke real truth to me.
Wrong and Right are so subjective and with varying degrees and most of those degrees vary out of guilt and/or fear. Fear that you might take something from me or that you might crumble my belief. My whole stance on this. Right and Wrong are black and white and there is no black and white in this world. Black and white is what creates wars, prejudice, etc. I leave you with this quote by Marcus Aurelius…
“Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones.” Peace, D
