Growing up without any religious affiliation, it was difficult for me to connect with a higher power or understand spirituality through traditional or religious efforts. I’m not even baptized. My dad calls me a social experiment to see whether a kid can be moral without religion. It wasn’t until I got older that I began to understand that religion is not the only means through which we can connect with energy and forces beyond our conscious selves.
It took some time for my mom’s words, “Nature is our church,” to sink in. We didn’t dress up to meet and greet people in a man-made building. We walked through foothills, biked dirt trails and, especially, summited peaks. To me, it was more fun than anything — that is, until I grew mature enough to understand that a connection with nature can be more powerful than anything I’ve been able to feel under the mount of a steeple.
I can’t pretend to be a spiritual expert, but I do know the experiences I’ve had in nature have allowed for greater awareness, sensitivity and a feeling of connectivity with myself and the natural forces around me. I think escaping to nature — and I mean getting out where there aren’t Facebook notifications, calls from work, texts from friends about Friday night, football updates or any other technology that could drown the potential for a genuine experience — is one of the best ways to make yourself vulnerable and susceptible to profound spiritual experiences, especially when you’re facing a difficult trek. I’ve done a fair amount of hiking, especially throughout our beautiful Wasatch Range, and every time I come home with greater personal understanding and insight than I knew was attainable in such a short period of time.
In an article in the Wall Street Journal a couple weeks ago, Edie Littlefield Sundby talks about her long-term experience with cancer, and how walking solo for weeks on end gave her a newfound connection to the earth and life that kept her alive much longer than anticipated. Sundby describes walking as a metaphor for a meaningful life, saying, “I walk one step at a time, one day at a time, and God decides how long and how far.” I think there is a lot of truth behind her insight, and it’s something I’ve felt and try to acknowledge when I think about my experiences with hiking and summiting mountains. Fifteen hours up and down steep, uncharted inclines can be grueling. It can test you, and to complete it and enjoy it you are forced to find a rhythm with nature. Instead of conquering the mountain (as many ambitious attitudes promote), you learn to unite with it. Instead of feeling triumphant at the summit, you feel a sense of transcendence over your journey. It isn’t about beating nature; it’s about blending with it in a natural and beautiful way.
I understand the appeal of religion, and I respect it completely. But to me, nature plays host to spirituality at its finest. It isn’t pledging faith in a specific almighty being. It isn’t being strict on church attendance and being punished if you skip a week. It isn’t found in man-made construction. Hiking has brought me more joy, fond memories, personal awareness and understanding, and appreciation for all life and energy than anything else I’ve ever known. My experiences on the mountain have translated into a powerful confidence and certainty in my day-to-day life that is irreplaceable, and they come with memories I’ll always cherish.