Walking frees the soul from the body. It latches onto a hawk and not only swoops, glides, and hovers but also stops and sees a leaf for what a leaf really is in all its intricacies and details. With those eyes, brick houses with picket fences and sparkling pools are Lilliputian and look for once what they are: insignificant. A slip and a fall and your body tumbles down a bit. All part of the adventure. Your soul latches onto something, a falling pebble. The rock has been there for ages. It’s withstood the winds of nature and terrors of men. It’s seen everything, and I take comfort in the fact that if this rock could last so long, maybe I too can last another day of my high schoolers.
Ketamine, a synthetic drug, frees the soul from the body. I would argue that hiking in nature does the same. Your body accidentally identifies with the animate and inanimate surrounding objects, and you find yourself walking in a body that isn’t your own.
It was like finding my spirit animal. Before going to Mt. Diablo, during the frequent introduce yourself and tell everyone your spirit animal, I would never know what to say. Everything from “ducks because they can swim, walk, and fly” (I only realized later I couldn’t fly) to “tribbles because they like eating and are flufffffffy” came from my mouth. But today I found it. I found my inner critter.
I am a lizard. I like basking in the sun for hours and have no issue plopping myself in the middle of people scurrying about. My dance moves have a slithery, wriggling quality. And I have been known to swallow some bugs in my sleep. Don’t know how I didn’t think of it before.