Letting go memories

I wrote the Baudelaire post yesterday. Apart from having introduced a troubled 19^th century symbolist poet to you (yes, a few friends wrote saying they had checked him and his work out – got to love the Internet!), it got me thinking.

I may be concerned about giving illness an identity of its own. I may be concerned about holding on to a certain gloom and gazing at it quite like Baudelaire. And since I want to do the exact opposite, I thought I would experiment with writing only positive experiences for the rest of the week.

I have a few reservations about this. For none of my blog posts are planned. I never know exactly what I am going to write about; I never know the course of the piece and the turns it may take; I never know whether or not I will post it online. I would never want the blogs to be less genuine in trying to be oh-so-positive. (Ahem… with that attitude, the experiment may be doomed even before it takes off. Sigh…). But it may be a worthwhile experiment.

When I started the blog, a friend I used to go trekking with, wrote to me and suggested I write about fun memories – like the time four of us abandoned a day trek in the Himalayas and spent the day in the middle of nowhere surrounded by pines and the splendor of the mountains.

I gasped that she remembered it so well. For it is a very vivid memory for me – one I will never forget. The fact that she remembered it just as well seemed to validate its magic (as if I needed any validation). And so I sat down to write about it.

Each of us has our cache of magical memories. In a sense, these moments are our letting go. Just as that day was - another day in May - 20 years ago.

Four of us drifted away from the rest of the group, abandoned the day trek mid-way, and simply lolled and laughed in the grass in this spectacularly scenic spot. It may have had something to do with us stopping for breath and never starting back. Oh the joys of failure and incompleteness…

We let go of all drive and determination required to reach the top of a mountain. We let go of all grit and gumption. And in letting go of expectations (set by ourselves and others), we took in the splendor of the Himalayas. Interestingly, of the two weeks spent on the trek, that spot and that day is the most vivid; even if it was not half as exciting or half as thrilling as other days of hiking to treacherous and exciting locations and summits.

In letting go of all goals, we were completely in the moment – and what a beautiful moment it was. I can still feel the crispness of the mountain air, the scent of the pines, the texture of the grass, the warmth of the sun and the laughter of our friendship. We were four very different persons of varying ages and experiences and we connected so beautifully in the moment. Maybe it was simply because we let go of all else; simply because we were all in the moment – and what a beautiful moment it was.

We lay on the grass and discussed everything under the sun, ate our packed lunch meant to be eaten at the mountain summit, reveled in the joy of abandoning the trek, talked incessantly and laughed more endlessly.

We took in the moment in its entirety. And the mountains seemed to approve and the unfinished trek seemed so complete.

Perhaps to someone, convinced of her inability to let go easily anymore, such memories may remind her how easy it is to let go… and the scent of the pines, awe of the mountains and the warmth of the day and laughter can only help.

So, what are your letting go memories?

This is not a picture of the spot, but of the camp site we started from that day. We were about an hour or two of hiking away from this spot – up in the rolling hills in the middle of absolutely and beautifully nowhere.
Will post pictures of the actual location if I can find them…