[Aphro Warrior/Gimme a break, I haven't seen a shower in days]
The journey there was a test of our skills in many unpracticed arts: Cow-Evasion (they are aggressive here!), Electrical-Fence-Hopping, Cerebral-GPS Navigation (aka following the river), and the best part--Machete-Slashing paths through jungles of gorse and bush.
This was one of my fantasies as a child (and I'm sure this is the case with many little boys). I was slashing through wild hanging branches and bush with a massive blade to reveal a path, on a mission. I had a girl following behind me too... but it's not like that.
The final hurl of the giant blade lent to me by the owners of the Welcome Swallow revealed delicate rapids and small rushes of water at the fore. It was as if I was looking at a nature program through a lens contoured with leaf shapes and branches hanging on either side, accept this was real life. These were my eyes. The sounds were real, and I was completely surrounded by it all. My brain narrated in place of David Attenborough and my face was numbed with a semi-permanent smile.
[Gorse-Battle]
Once approached in full, we had a good look down, marveling at the sounds and sights before us. The isolation was incredible. I relaxed on the few rocks that were tall enough to keep me dry and reflected on our little journey to the waterfall for a moment, rejoicing our survival. It wasn't too long before we climbed down the side of it for a swim in the natural pool, enjoying the sun and privacy of a completely-secluded, unaffected marvel.
I waded around soaking in the cool natural water knowing there was a wild eel enjoying the same. I swam underneath the waterfall to feel its force. I felt the weight of the water impacting my head, depressing and soaking every one of my hairs to full saturation. I looked up for a moment, but the force was too hard for my eyes. I looked back down and started to float away, allowing the fall to push me back outward into its pool.
It was still early/midday and the sky was clear, the sun working to make the atmosphere a perfect 80 degrees or so. Fatigued from the swim and its preceding journey, I perched on a large rock that was still hot from the sun's rays. This rock, well-smoothed from the constant water, was eroded to perfectly contour my body. Here I stayed for hours reading, contemplating, napping and practicing yoga, fully calmed. As cliche as it may seem, it was a completely surreal realization of nature and its role in harmonizing the body and mind. As I read through Richard Woods' book, I came across a passage incredibly suitable for the circumstances. He wrote, "It is now a mainstay even of scientific medicine that true healing arises primarily from 'within.' Medical arts remove obstacles and create optimal conditions for recuperation. In themselves, they do not heal. Nature heals."
Perfect.
I looked around, re-appreciated the subtle, almost still pools of water that were slowly being funneled into a gradual stream that would eventually gain the speed to become a rapid. I set a leaf in the small pool to my right, watching it slowly spin and accelerate towards the choke point where the pool spilled out. Eventually it would take off, navigating its way through the moguls of moss-covered earth-stones and boulders ahead. I remembered something from the one time we have seen a t.v. this entire trip...
Back in Hellensville, during dinner with the people we were sharing the accommodation with, we watched a special program that documented the "Free Runners" of New Zealand- a group of younger athletic/acrobatic types that run the streets of the slums, hopping across roofs and maneuvering their way around various urban obstacles, barriers and otherwise common architectural scenarios. They don't stop to assess the terrain much, they simply keep a forward momentum. There was an interview of one of the more conscientious in the group. He described the mental preparation they have to execute prior to engaging the environment. He talked of it as a meditation to keep the rational mind from getting in the way of the actions that were ahead. Because these actions were otherwise naturally contradictory to human instinct, the reasonable mind would cause some hesitation to the body before letting it leap across high roofs and climb walls 4 stories high with nothing to grab onto. This mental prep was the key to keep them from dying. He spoke of it in terms of unifying the mind with the body while simultaneously removing the doubt and hesitation that reason produces... This was a turn of mindset for someone who just finished a degree in Analytical Philosophy.
Disregarding the last 4 years of my education, I attempted to put this mindset to practice, accelerating my way through the rocks of the river, downstream. I hopped, skipped, jumped, and leaped with only forward momentum. I found this foreword thrust to be key in situations where there were only tiny, intermediary rocks with tips only exposed enough to serve as a quick transition between two larger landing points. I had to shift my weight quickly, only delicately pushing off some of these tiny rocks before they moved as a result of my force. I would kick off sometimes 3 or 4 in a row with just enough momentum to reach the landing rock. Jackie Chan, I mean... Bruce Lee style. A worthy exercise, I made it all the way to the bend where the rocks end without a scratch or even the slightest slip. The total course was about 20 minutes of non-stop hopping while quickly sketching the path in front of me and keeping my mind calm. My mind must have been equating distances, risk-fators, moisture levels of each rock, my energy levels, inseam, ankle reflex etcetc. and translated it all into immediate non-thought-action. Shortly after my success, this caused exhaustion to set in. Not to mention I started to get a little cocky.
On the way back, I let my mind interrupt. I thought "well, what would happen if I DO fall? I could seriously hurt myself! What if I do permanent damage?!" The moment that thought entered my mind-- the same very second my mind conceived it-- I knew I was screwed.
I couldn't slow down. My muscles hesitated and I finally collapsed in the middle of a jump between one small rock and a mossy boulder. I landed only half-way in-between.
My shins and knees met the sharp rocks under the water as if they were uninvited guests disrupting a japanese cutlery party. I didn't do any permanent damage, but I swelled and gnarled up my right leg.
A realization that there is mental and physical work to be done here.
I've realized that the last few years of my life I have spent growing so much rationally and intellectually that I have seemed to leave a sense of balance behind. I worked the yin up so high that I left the yang almost too far for sight. It had become fundamentally difficult for me to remove reason from even the most mundane daily exercises.
A new goal was born that day.
Ultimately, I have realized I can do anything. But new grounds require new preparations and hard work. But even preceding that... it begins here, with Will.
[cheeseball]
[The quotation in this update is from a book I did research for as an Undergraduate. The author, my mentor, Richard Woods has a blog here: http://richardwoodsop.net/ and the book is titled Wellness: Life, Health and Spirituality.]
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