Bodhicitta

I’ve been coming to the Deep Creek campground for about 26 years. I bumped into this place in my 20’s and have visited on and off, first on my own, then married, then with little ones, and now with a family of adult children who are figuring out what to do with their one precious human lives.

There’s something about the mountains, and this particular spot, that speaks to me in a language older than words, one that I sometimes understand, but most of the time I find myself just listening, knowing that at some point, probably much later, will reveal itself as the poetry and longing of my own heart.

On my first trip, I was 24, I met a couple in their 50’s who were sitting by the creek and told me that they had been coming with their kids to this same spot for 25 years. At the time I could not imagine that. I was just passing by and had no sense what 25 years into the future might look like.

I’m amazed now how quickly time has passed and how Maribel and I are that couple. We have sat by the creek, listening to it’s sounds for a quarter century. All of that time, we have heard a love song, reminding us to find rest and comfort in the flowing waters that bring life to the heart and soul. I digress a little. It’s hard to put to language the sweet whispers of the creek and heart.

I took the picture in this post as I lingered back on our first day back in Deep Creek after a two-year hiatus. We were walking back from a short hike that took us through the deep green of summer. We crossed footbridges, stopped to look for salamanders, felt the light filter through the trees, and once again felt the mystery of the mountain.

Right before this picture was taken, we made a stop at the Laney Cemetery, not far from the Deep Creek trail. This small sacred ground is the resting place of a handful of people who lived here before the area became a national park. We stopped and looked at the gravestones for a short while. We could hear thunder and knew that rain was not far away.

As my family walked away, I stood back and could not help to feel the message of the place speak to my heart:

Mind the time. Live fully. You are here for but a short time.

The message was not ominous or disheartening. Instead, it opened up my heart. I took the picture to mark the moment, realizing that in a short period of time, every body in that image would also be laid to rest. Twenty-five years is but a blink. So is a lifetime. Something lingers, however, and that is the message I keep hearing from the creek and mountain. Although all is passing, there’s something that remains, it sounds like the creek, the sound of a baby laughing as he takes his first steps, the breathing of your partner next to you as you awaken in the middle of the night with the sheer joy and grief that all is passing, nothing to hold on to, knowing fully that love is the way.

Namaste.