Hiking, Sauntering and Holy Ground

On Monday morning, before the cool fall rains fell here in Salt Lake, I went walking in City Creek Canyon. I was so touched by the lighting, the dark-bellied clouds and the golden light shining through grasses, sunflowers and leaves just beginning to change.  I was reminded of one of my favorite quotes from John Muir:

“Hiking. I don’t like the word or the thing. People ought tosaunter in mountains, not hike! Do you know the origin of that word “saunter?” It’s a beautiful word. Away back in the Middle Ages, people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going, they would reply “A la sainte terre.” To the Holy Land. And so they became known as the sainte–terre-ersor saunterers. Now these mountains areare our Holy Land, and we should saunterthrough them with reverence, not “hike” through them.”- John Muir

I love this on so many levels. I don’t take Muir’s distinction as a question of speed, but rather the quality of reverence we bring, the level of intimacy we are open to in any moment of experience.

Through this lens, the distinction between hiking and sauntering can be seen on so many levels.

Do I hike through my meditation practice? Just to get it done, thinking there is some peak, some supposed viewpoint up ahead somewhere?

Do I hike through my work day?

My asana practice?

The dishes?

My life?

When am I experiencing myself oriented to some destination, some goal, some other time, while missing the experience of sainte terre, the holy ground, that is here, under my feet?

Erin, standing on sacred ground with Embodied Life
gestures in the desert.

I am looking forward to the beginning of Erin’s Embody Gratitude project on Sept 21.

On this theme, I’ll share the 2nd half of one of my favorite Mary Oliver poems, To Begin With, The Sweetgrass.