Archive for May 2012

Last weekend, I was way way out there… backpacking in the wilderness of the Santa Barbara backcountry with my uncle, Dan McCaslin.  As in no cell phone reception, no roads, a rattlesnake bite and you are not making it out of there alive – that kind of out there.  This happens to be my uncle’s favorite way to connect with nature, to find quiet, to both connect and in a sense, upon each foray – to reconnect and center his life.

Dan and I went backpacking in the San Rafael wilderness, which is completely contained within the much larger Los Padres National Forest.  Essentially, this is an area that is further inland from Santa Ynez Valley, which is a wonderful wine tasting region, and also home to Lake Cachuma – a vital water resource for Santa Barbara and reached by Highway 154 from Santa Barbara up and over the Santa Ynez mountain range.

The wild … or wilderness – it’s not really as far out there as you think.  It might even be a state of mind, a space between this conscious world and something else, therefore not even a physical place at all.  Or, wilderness might be as close as a walk in the neighborhood, or the beach, or a local trail.  I believe “wilderness” can be a variety of environments or spaces that contain no immediate physical barriers and that enables one’s mind to wander and breathe – and not necessarily the stricter definition of having to be surrounded by all things natural.  We can’t all just up and drive out to the forest (on the assumption you even live near one) every time we need to unwind our complicated minds.  However, it certainly would be hard to refute the intangible benefit to the broadening and deepening of the mind when surrounded by the natural world, even if that just means the sky overhead.

And that is the subtext of this long wordy scramble through the brush… the quest to find quiet, to connect to “wilderness”, or some aspect of the natural world to help bridge our complex and often loud daily thoughts into a much calmer, deeper, authentic space.  Going further, the quest I am seeking is the attempt in a spiritual sense, to connect us to something much larger.  A question – can we invite the natural world as a magical force into our lives to help us find and establish a meaningful, even spiritual connection, to something much greater than ourselves, our partners, our work, our computer screens, and our bank accounts?

Dan and I parked the car at a campsite called Nira, which is at the end of a long winding barely maintained road in the San Rafael Wilderness.  After this point, there was to be no more gas-powered machines.  Just wilderness, in all its rugged and immense splendor.  We hoisted our packs, I took a look at the trail map sign which made all the campsites look close, whereby Dan assured me they weren’t – but in typical male bravado asked me if I wanted to come back another time as we could do the 50 mile loop which would take us to most of them.  That 50 mile loop is something I keep thinking about… kind of like a city boys Mount Everest (minus the congestion, but not minus the potential danger).  Feeling energized, off we went on our now seemingly short 6 mile hike to the Manzana campsite.

Hiking and or backpacking into the wilderness to establish or reestablish one’s own spiritual connection is just one method of what I like to call “seeking”.  And one thing I’ve learned about my life is that I am a seeker.  In the metaphorical sense, we each walk or hike our own path during our life’s journey (yours might not include possible rattlesnakes on the path, but more than likely there will be some type of dangerous mythical representational creature or questionable elixir as an impediment) and there are many paths and many methods to find quiet, to seek a connection, to find your truth, which may or may not involve bringing in the natural world.

But let us agree, that in this new technological and scientific age it is becoming easier and easier to withdraw from and discount the power of the natural, “magical” world.  No one has to flip a switch or write a sub-routine to make the sun rise and set each day.  It does that on its own, but that is something we take for granted.  Nothing seems magical about that… or does it?  We humans have incredible intelligence and power, we are immensely capable, but why is it that so many of us are simply dissatisfied with our lives, or parts of our lives?  We even make little pills to deal with that – but this dissatisfaction is so varied and nuanced it’s beyond my comprehension.  Perhaps the discomfort and dissatisfaction are merely creatures lying across our path that each of us is forced to confront and deal with in some fashion on our journey.

With 40 pounds on your back, the pace slows, and there is plenty of time to talk on the path – and my uncle Dan and I talked about this general if not symptomatic dissatisfaction.  It is something we have all felt more or less at some moment in our lives.  Could it be nothing more than a disconnection from this quiet, wild, spiritual place that resides deep inside each of us? We lose our connection (by our own foolish actions), or we get knocked off our center (life deals us a bad blow) – and we disconnect from our authentic selves in reaction.  Then, subtly or loudly we walk around the world looking to reestablish that connection and honest reflection through all kinds of false representations, apparitions, and potions.  In short, because we have lost who we honestly are, we start making up (and or listening to) and believing a story about our self that is plain manufactured bullshit.  And we are the one’s who make up and believe this story, because we have to fill the void in our spirit with something, anything.  Whether you are feeling high and mighty, or feeling low and lost, once disconnected we start believing our own thoughts about our self… and this inner dishonesty pains us at the core.  When we are in too much pain we seek comfort in all manners; unfortunately these often end in personal wildfires.

The healthy response to a scenario where life is becoming confusing, complicated, and messy, is for our soul to moan.  The comic, foolish, or nasty actions we stir up in response to life’s difficulties alerts our soul to speak up – and if we are not so off center our conscious mind takes notice that our inner self is speaking and is asking to be re-centered, connected, grounded.  If we are listening and honest with our self, we take appropriate action – we slow down, we invite spiritual power or magic into the process, we take honest stock of our self with a trusted friend or loved one to gain a different perspective on the perceived difficulty, and then we correct any grievances or missteps.  We then learn to share this truth with others, because it’s a tool that has authentically worked.  We also sense that this lesson is too valuable to own, it does not belong to us – it belongs to all of us, and has always belonged to humanity.  We have finally started learning from our mistakes instead of repeating them.

We can also bring the natural world into this healthy response system.  Nature has the power to help us stay centered, and works wonders as a check and balance.  How?  If we take an honest look at the natural world it is plain to see that it works perfectly without man’s interference.  Nature is exactly as it’s supposed to be.  If my core is seeking truth, if it’s seeking honest interactions with my fellows and the world at large, then nature is the perfect mirror for the soul.  Why?  Nature mirrors my authentic self, I am neither greater than nor less than anyone or anything around me in the natural world… I simply am. Just as a rock is a rock, I simply am who I am.  I am not an elaborate story of and about myself – just as a river is not a story about a river.  This is what centers us; when all the stories, thoughts, and feelings about our self drop away.  The natural world does not care what you think about yourself, it only exists in the present moment of being, and this truth speaks directly to our core.  And this notion can filter up to our conscious mind, reminding us to quit taking our self and our stories and beliefs about our self so seriously.  It is nourishing to know that I am exactly who I am, who I am supposed to be, at this very moment.  Tomorrow, when it arrives, I will be the person I am supposed to be tomorrow.  There is absolutely no false reflection standing under the sky with your feet firmly planted on the ground.  You are simply, you.  When we throw out life’s petty judgements about literally everything, we are present and authentic through and through… what possibly can be more centering than that?

We arrived at our camp six beautiful sweaty miles later – the chaparral and sage are hallmarks of this hike.  We set up our tents, and with the Manzana creek gently bubbling off to our side, the sun began slipping behind the steep gorge walls – the last rays slicing through the giant twisted oaks, making all the leaves shimmer in what appeared as a final applause.  It was then that Dan and I wandered off into deeper conversation about connection and the natural world.  Dan related to me a discussion with author Richard Louv who had spoke recently in Santa Barbara.  Louv feels strongly that technology in our lives needs a counter balance, that we and our children are bit out of whack – and specifically that the “overuse” of screens which some of us depend upon for “a meaningful connection” to the world, can lead us to feeling “less alive”.  The balancing mechanism would be for us to attempt to alternate screen time with outdoor time.  And especially for children, as my uncle (and long time educator) argues… who might really be in dire need of real-time contact with nature, even perhaps real-time scrapes, cuts, and bruises.  I submit, learning to endlessly re-spawn and teleport back into the fray of electronic life without an actual band-aid or suture, is nice – but what actual life lessons are being learned?  That life is painless, does not have consequences, and is not much of a challenge?  The skillset learned in the electronic world is a certainly valid (even economically valid) in this world – but let us be clear, it has no grounding in the natural world.  There is nothing inherently wrong with the wired world, but the argument is that without a counter balance, ones and zeros can become yet another place to hide from life and our fellows, an inherently false reality – leading eventually to our soul seeking to be righted.

Speaking of the natural world, I want to share some background information about the San Rafael Wilderness where Dan and I camped.  Although it is very remote and rugged – its chaparral, riparian grasslands, and limestone features are stunningly beautiful.  And the water that flows in the Manzana creek, ohh that water is good – creates a well-spring of life and spirit for animals and humans alike.  The San Rafael Wilderness was formed in 1968, changing from its previous designation as a Primitive Area (humans have continuously inhabited the area for 10,000 years), to a wilderness area by the passage of the important 1964 Federal Wilderness Act.  The Wilderness Act, signed into law by Lyndon Johnson, contains a beautiful and simple much quoted definition – “A wilderness, in contrast with those areas where man and his own works dominate the landscape, is hereby recognized as an area where the earth and community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain”.

Bingo, where man himself is a visitor, who does not remain… how many places on earth have you been to where you exists as nothing more than a true visitor, and most importantly, couldn’t remain even if you tried?  Ever temporarily inhabit a landscape where you are at the mercy of weather, where food is scare, where water is life or death?  You could use skills learned through Bear Grylls show on the Discovery Channel, “Man vs. Wild”, and try and tough it out, but more than likely you would go into survival mode and hurriedly hike of the massive sun scorched Hurricane Deck of the San Rafael Wilderness.  Then head down into the Manzanna Narrows for shade and water, and then doggedly hoof it out on the trail back to civilization – grateful to be alive (as in fact a young man died recently up on the Hurricane Deck from dehydration after he and a buddy got lost).  Man is tough and resilient, always has been, always will be, but Man is just a visitor.  Our gleaming cities, marble edifice’s, thoughtful civilizations, and comfortable homes lead us to believe that we are permanent residents, but I think not.  We are all temporary, that is a fact.  I believe our highest calling is “temporary caretaker”.  Of what, or whom we choose to temporarily care take becomes the vital question for each of us.  And it is this choice that either connects or separates us from our fellows, and is ultimately what we as humans can build a deep and satisfying life upon. Caretaking of our self is a valid choice, and we all can fall into the negative side of this rut, but what really does over self indulgence contribute – just more of our fancy self?  Gets a bit nauseating being around people only concerned about themselves, doesn’t it?

The next morning, after a creek lullaby and a satisfying sleep, Dan wanted to immerse me deeper into this magical landscape.  We had discussed going out on a day hike (this being our lay over day) to see some Chumash pictographs.  We filled our water supplies up, packed lunches and spent the next 7 hours out amongst the desert plants; scrub oak, chamise, and manzanita.  The location of the pictographs remains secretive due to possible vandals, and I can see why.  Rock art is beautiful, but it’s at the mercy of the world and the elements.  Seeing this specific hundreds year old pictograph Dan and I talked about what this strange creature on the wall might have represented to the possible shaman who drew the figure. This one wasn’t really zoomorphic, it seemed more human like to me, but what the arcing stream is coming out of the hand, is anyone’s guess.  Could it be water?  We had lunch under the shade of a rock overhang, much like I imagine the Chumash hunter-gathers must have done in a different time, in “eternal time”.  Looking out at the arid land I notice the limestone cliffs, the rocks, the crags, they just spill on and on.  If feels amazingly desolate, in a sense lonely, but mostly just insanely real.  I can’t help but feel connected to the men and women who made lives moving through this landscape.  It makes me smile that I marvel at the sky and stars just as they must have.  What we share in common is the belief that there is immense power in the unknowable.  Just as this shaman drew his spirits on the wall I too practice an art that attempts to preserve the fleeting magical spirit world.  I have visions just as he has visions…. At last after a long spell of quiet, a magnificent natural quiet where the only sounds are the breeze and the occasional bird, we gather ourselves and our thoughts and put our boots back on the earth and wind our way back to camp, to the shade and water.

Back to the water, to the well-spring of life and spirit.  The Manzana creek flowing past our primitive campsite is delicious, we drink it unfiltered, but that is because it’s literally a spring with a beginning point in the earth that we can see when we hike up to a higher elevation (Dan has been drinking this water for decades).  It is a heavenly pleasure to drink water directly from the earth as it spills over a small waterfall, and I feel almost odd talking about drinking water, other than to say, it connects me deeply and for me is the essence of spiritual renewal.  This one sentence is what my whole backpacking experience was all about and it strikes me as ironic that I have the least to say about it, I just can’t put the experience of spiritual renewal into words.  However, I can recommend finding out what renews you deeply, in whatever spiritual manner, hopefully involving the natural world, but in no way necessary.  It is one of life’s pleasures not to be missed!


*Because I am writing this out on the Internet, I have to recommend filtering your water here, it would be irresponsible for me to suggest otherwise.  This is about backpacking after all, and in all cases you must filter your water when you are unsure of the source and or upstream conditions.

*Richard Louv – some notations drawn from Dan McCaslin, “Richard Louv, Nature, Fear, and Teachers” 5/17/2012

Last couple of weeks I’ve been doing a lot of trail hiking/running in Griffith Park.  I’ve been preparing for a backpack trip in the Los Padres National forest (Santa Barbara Backcountry) with my uncle, Dan McCaslin.  Dan is a long time resident of Santa Barbara, all around great guy, and knows the Santa Backcountry incredibly well.  Here’s a link to his hiking column in the Santa Barbara Independent.  So while getting myself into shape (otherwise my Uncle will literally leave me in the dust, I think his legs are partially tree trunks) on the Griffith trails I of course have been listening to my Iphone and shooting lots of great new images.  This installment will be Los Angeles scenic images.  I will be making a separate post in a couple of days of a cohesive group of my trail images.  If anyone wants to go for a hike/run that will have your lungs bursting, give me a ring sometime.  And in a couple of weeks I will be posting my images of my backpack trip.

I must pull a couple of quotes from my uncle’s articles as he indeed has a special connection to what we city folk consider the wilderness.  “The once-porous boundary between ordinary social living and transformative experiences in nature has become a sealed Berlin Wall.  Those who love to head out onto the remote trails are viewed as a little crazy or pretty “far out” – yet restorative, sparkling, divine awaits us..  Canadian philosopher Charles Taylor suggests that in our postmodern times, it’s very easy to miss those “signs” that may inform you about choices for your life’s direction.  Taylor feels that “mechanism undermines enchantment,” and that we’ve lost a sense of eternal time or “eternity”.  In A Secular Age he asks why so many Westerners are “disenchanted” with the cosmos.  Why does their world feel so “flat” to them, as if it resides behind a screen?  Among other deficits, Taylor mentions the general loss of “the understanding of things as sings or expressions of a higher reality.”  Taylor writes that wilderness “is not [only] the locus of an alternative life to the ‘city’…rather, it communicates or imparts something to us which awakens a power in us of living better where we are,” even in town.