Post by troubledgoodangel on Aug 27, 2007 13:45:52 GMT -7
I raise my eyes toward the mountains.
From where will my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
The Maker of heaven and earth!
Psalm 121:1-2
One day, I found myself walking toward the Aconcagua Mountain, carrying my burdens with me. Because my burdens were great many, I wasn't walking, but running. Those were the times in my life when I first began to look for the life's meaning. Why was it that this majestic white mountain attracted me so much? Why not go in some other, less lofty direction? I needed my work and liked my work, but I wasn't free. Out of a sudden, for some surreal-mystical reason, I wouldn't go any other way: all my being was focussed in one single direction! Around me, the scorching yet cool Andean sun was burning. At a distance, the pervasive aroma of the processing plant was becoming less and less. In Argentina the petrochemical plants emit this nauseating aroma due to the specific chemical substance added to the naturally odorless methane, to make it detectable as a security precaution. I was working at the Petroquimica Lujan de Cuyo at the time.
The closer I got to the Mountain, the faster I run. As I dashed across the dense matorrales (Spanish term for underbrush) of the subandine paramo, the thorny branches striped my arms and legs with painful scratches. But strangely I didn't mind. I felt liberated, almost out of my mind, the more liberated the more I run. Under my feet, the glistering array of burning pebbles and rock fragments; above the azure cloud-billowing sky. Ahead, the chain of misty blue Cordilleras. The pebbles were characteristically brown, or, as the locals said, de distintos colores de marron (of variable tonalities of brown). Most were flat and rounded, smooth and common. Some, very few, were actually sparkling bright red. Very seldom, a bright white stone appeared, evoking a diamond. These prickled my consciousness. I knew that the stones were worthless, but in the euphoria of liberation I wanted to believe that they were rubies and diamonds!
But I kept running. The only meaning the ground under my feet had for me, was that it was the way - a straight line that led me to the Mountain where my real dreams rested! Still, the more I run, the more difficult it became. The reality was catching up with me, alongside with the fatigue. The Mountain at first looked closer and closer, but gradually the distance remained more and more static. My spirit was urging me to keep going, but the body was saying no. In the back of my mind I have always known that the Mountain was no less than forty miles apart, perhaps a hundred forty. But I also knew that it was not meant for me to get there at that juncture. I stopped. Yet I remember, on my way back, looking back many times, vowing to return.
Many years have gone by, but I have never forgotten that strange experience. What was that irresistible force that, out of a sudden, took hold of me and made me run toward Itself? I sought the answers when I studied the literary meanings at the University of Alaska. I kept thinking about it during my studies of the meaning of religions and spiritualities at the Catholic University of America and the Angelicum. Even now, when I am in the midst of my doctoral inquiry on the meaning of suffering, at the Pontifical Academy of Theology in Cracow, I am still returning to the Mountain with my mind!
I have known all along that the meaning of life didn't end there, that there were much higher though invisible ridges behind. But at that time Aconcagua was where I needed to go. With the passing years, I have understood that the force that impels us is an inborn desire to be free. The Mountain symbolized a promise of a new better life, a hitherto unknown peace, an escape from the sense of dying. Every human being carries embedded in him or her this dream and this elan, a desire that they won't relinquish for anything in the world. Lest the dream is realized, the peace is never complete. The force pushed me in the direction where Peace was. The Mountain of Peace attracted me to Itself, even under the trappings of Nature! It was for me, symbolically, "the Precious Pearl," "the River of Living Waters," and "the Light of the World" (Mt 13:46; Jn 7:38- 8:12). I may not be able to reach It time and again. But to the highest Mountain of God, the Mount Zion, I will always long to return!
From where will my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
The Maker of heaven and earth!
Psalm 121:1-2
One day, I found myself walking toward the Aconcagua Mountain, carrying my burdens with me. Because my burdens were great many, I wasn't walking, but running. Those were the times in my life when I first began to look for the life's meaning. Why was it that this majestic white mountain attracted me so much? Why not go in some other, less lofty direction? I needed my work and liked my work, but I wasn't free. Out of a sudden, for some surreal-mystical reason, I wouldn't go any other way: all my being was focussed in one single direction! Around me, the scorching yet cool Andean sun was burning. At a distance, the pervasive aroma of the processing plant was becoming less and less. In Argentina the petrochemical plants emit this nauseating aroma due to the specific chemical substance added to the naturally odorless methane, to make it detectable as a security precaution. I was working at the Petroquimica Lujan de Cuyo at the time.
The closer I got to the Mountain, the faster I run. As I dashed across the dense matorrales (Spanish term for underbrush) of the subandine paramo, the thorny branches striped my arms and legs with painful scratches. But strangely I didn't mind. I felt liberated, almost out of my mind, the more liberated the more I run. Under my feet, the glistering array of burning pebbles and rock fragments; above the azure cloud-billowing sky. Ahead, the chain of misty blue Cordilleras. The pebbles were characteristically brown, or, as the locals said, de distintos colores de marron (of variable tonalities of brown). Most were flat and rounded, smooth and common. Some, very few, were actually sparkling bright red. Very seldom, a bright white stone appeared, evoking a diamond. These prickled my consciousness. I knew that the stones were worthless, but in the euphoria of liberation I wanted to believe that they were rubies and diamonds!
But I kept running. The only meaning the ground under my feet had for me, was that it was the way - a straight line that led me to the Mountain where my real dreams rested! Still, the more I run, the more difficult it became. The reality was catching up with me, alongside with the fatigue. The Mountain at first looked closer and closer, but gradually the distance remained more and more static. My spirit was urging me to keep going, but the body was saying no. In the back of my mind I have always known that the Mountain was no less than forty miles apart, perhaps a hundred forty. But I also knew that it was not meant for me to get there at that juncture. I stopped. Yet I remember, on my way back, looking back many times, vowing to return.
Many years have gone by, but I have never forgotten that strange experience. What was that irresistible force that, out of a sudden, took hold of me and made me run toward Itself? I sought the answers when I studied the literary meanings at the University of Alaska. I kept thinking about it during my studies of the meaning of religions and spiritualities at the Catholic University of America and the Angelicum. Even now, when I am in the midst of my doctoral inquiry on the meaning of suffering, at the Pontifical Academy of Theology in Cracow, I am still returning to the Mountain with my mind!
I have known all along that the meaning of life didn't end there, that there were much higher though invisible ridges behind. But at that time Aconcagua was where I needed to go. With the passing years, I have understood that the force that impels us is an inborn desire to be free. The Mountain symbolized a promise of a new better life, a hitherto unknown peace, an escape from the sense of dying. Every human being carries embedded in him or her this dream and this elan, a desire that they won't relinquish for anything in the world. Lest the dream is realized, the peace is never complete. The force pushed me in the direction where Peace was. The Mountain of Peace attracted me to Itself, even under the trappings of Nature! It was for me, symbolically, "the Precious Pearl," "the River of Living Waters," and "the Light of the World" (Mt 13:46; Jn 7:38- 8:12). I may not be able to reach It time and again. But to the highest Mountain of God, the Mount Zion, I will always long to return!