Living but an hour away from Big Bear I never paid much attention to the peace and serenity that the virgin mountains had to offer. Having been taken with out a vote by my family to these good- for- nothing mountains is where I discovered my soul purpose. Still being able to see the sprinkled stars peppered in the dawn sky before we left relaxed my pessimistic attitude and being away from the calamity and pandemonium of cars, my mind, without a struggle, broke free from the chains of vainness and vanity.
Close your eyes and imagine the genuine song of the water trickling down a diminutive waterfall. A waterfall incredibly small that one can barely see the gap between the falling water and the riverbed. Now imagine an hourglass with extremely thin pieces of sand and a random pebble, the sand is now stuck. This analogy comes as a comparison with what I witnessed in the eyes of a river in Big Bear. Penetrated with unwanted stillness and restrain, the water was unable to move because of the impasse that it had encountered. The weak and vulnerable water should have just given up since there was an obstacle denser than it preventing it to pass through with out putting up a fight. A boulder. I’m resisting my hands from picking up that stubborn rock so that the stream can go on its journey gracefully. Anguished because my hands are trying to help the stream, but my innocent eyes want to see if it’s fit for survival, my heart pounds to two different beats. “Should I help it?” “Should I sit here passively and watch it suffer?” My mind is striding questions rapidly at the speed of light. My soliloquy starts to unravel a million and one of these thoughts quicker and nonstop, and then it comes to a prompt halt; “what about the wildlife that are in need of water?” Alarmed with the idea that there are tadpoles, fishes or water snakes suffering troubled me, so I plopped down on the snow.
The smell of the damp, silk soft, aqueous snow, under a brittle cloudy shining sky, and slothful moving trees dropping wispy leaves relaxed me. I then witness the launch of the soon-to-be victory of the confrontation between water versus boulder. The stream started off as a thin sheet, then it began to get higher and elevated, the current started to become sturdier then more powerful. The water started going around the edges and creases with enough velocity that it pushed the stone with all its might, and by this time the water had increased in size, and finally overwhelmed the boulder and surpassed it allowing it to reunite with its vestigial water traces. Without vindictiveness the audacious stream left the poignant stone to lay in solitude.
Being a part of nature and becoming nothing and seeing all was only the beginning of this eye opening experience. I discovered that I could be part of nature if I chose to. I blended myself with the wind, I became as light as a feather, and I soared in the world I knew as unknown. I talked and nature listened. If I had cried, it would have comforted me. If I would have laughed, it would have did the same along with me. I discovered the spirit of nature within me. “ In the wilderness, I find something more dear and connate than in the streets or villages” said Ralph Waldo Emerson. I did too. I found peace, I found myself, and I found my purpose—to be an individual.
Dear Reader: This page may contain affiliate links which may earn a commission if you click through and make a purchase. Our independent journalism is not influenced by any advertiser or commercial initiative unless it is clearly marked as sponsored content. As travel products change, please be sure to reconfirm all details and stay up to date with current events to ensure a safe and successful trip.