"Conservation is a state of harmony between men and land."
-Aldo Leopold
Today I hiked around Zion. It is a National Park where its biblical namesake is an accurate portrayal of what lies behind the steep cliffs. The large red spires and steep, all white rolling rocks and the reverence that they deserve has been distilled perfectly into their current name: Zion. A name that is anchored to the ideas of religion giving it a certain weight of respect in our souls. This naming convention delves deeper than just the park’s name. Many of the peaks, trails, spires, and such in and around the park have a religious denotation behind them; giving a sense of grandeur and respect that the canyon walls echo around your body that you can feel when standing on the dusty foot paths. Today, I was hiking to Angel's Landing. The most popular trail in the park that tops any websites numerous articles about trails to hike when visiting. Despite there being hundreds of people from all around the world visiting and hiking, the trail felt silent and alone. A weird spirituality seemed to insulate me as I walked the trails, only inches from fellow humans; yet I felt peacefully alone. As I passed by other hikers, it was common to hear quiet "wows" as they stare out to the White Throne while climbing up a trail carved into the side of a cliff. Zion itself felt as if it was protecting us.
Then the view at the top, a place where only Angel's can land, you witness an impressive artistic creation of nature.
"The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it."
-Genesis 2:15
It was awesome, in the truest sense of the word. The feeling of scale and the sense of awe that you get when quietly walking the trails or enjoying the vistas is wholesome. When I was sitting on the peak of Angel's Landing, legs dangling off the edge, I felt at peace with the world. There was no worrying about food, or water, or time, or mileage, or my family, or my brother, or if there is something more to the Universe, or any other thousands of questions that sprint through the mind at an exhausting pace. I just was. It was a quiet place where you can just catch your breath and feel rested. It reminded of how important it is to take the time to sit and enjoy things. Nature makes it easy, but I know that doing it of my own accord when I'm not outside can make it difficult. This is true of millions of others who aren't fortunate enough to have the ability to save up for a trip like this and take the time off like I can. But, being here and feeling this type of reverence that lives down in your soul is something I had not felt. It was like my thoughts were being consoled by some outside force--in this case that force being nature.
This is a point I often champion. Stacks of research show that being outside and being active, even if for a walk, has dramatic positive effects to our brains. However, new research has cropped up that shows a similar positive jump in monasteries. While the research can only speak to the benefits of monasteries, I do believe that that data can be extrapolated to our churches, synagogues, mosques, temples, or any other place of worship. Places that we as a people put spiritual and emotional stock in can potentially become a place of quiet reflection and healing. This has opened my eyes to not only talking about going outside for mental health help, but to also head to the places where we worship. While I view places like Zion or the Everglades as my places to worship and seek answers, others may find it better to head back to Church/Temple/Mosque and ask the big guy upstairs what (s)he thinks.
While I had done more hiking and exploring of Zion and nearby Springdale, Angel's Landing is what resonated most to me. It was this time of peaceful seclusion where I felt as if the existential questions that sit in the back of my head was not necessarily answered, but were being addressed.