Blog 54 The Quality of My Death (Gary)
I walk the hill alone today. There is gusting rain and fog on The Hill. I must go. I am pulled by The Hill and I must respond. I ignore the blacktop leg of the hike to the trailhead, and look forward to entering the sanctuary of the open space.
I brought my iPod, which quite normally I would judge as an intrusion into Nature, but to me it's a new toy that I must play with. I am listening to David Deida (The Way of the Superior Man, 2017) lecture on love, passion, and heart. It is an intrusion on the soul of Nature, yet it blends by subject.
I am wearing Levis and a rain jacket. My pants are buffeted by wind and rain, but that's okay; I am warm enough on the inside with a long sleeve pullover and a Polartec top. There is no one on the trail, and I am loving it: the closer to the summit, the more severe the weather and the denser the fog.
I feel a sense that I would be an unconscious easy prey for a mountain lion as I am cocooned inside my rainwear. I hear only gusts of wind and rain outside of my iPod lecture hall. I reach into the outer pocket of my fanny pack and pull out the scabbard containing my razor-sharp knife with its ten-inch blade and molded grip that I carry for safety, and place it in my right rain pocket and keep my hand on the handle. I am totally contained now. I am safe and “snug as a bug in a rug,” as my mother used to say.
I have another realization in the writing of this that I pulled my knife less for safety and more for not wanting to risk embarrassment. I feared being killed only if I didn’t protect myself. This was akin to the situation I was so chagrined to realize in Vietnam.
I was put in a possible attack situation where I was alone and couldn’t really protect myself against what I understood to be overwhelming odds. I didn’t want to die a fool or in shame. Believe me or not, I wasn’t afraid to die in a fight but I had some pride in how I died. Dying was a given; dying alone in shame and embarrassment was not acceptable: a BAD feeling believe me especially having experienced abandonment as a child. This was my worst moment. At least on The Hill I had some control over the quality of my death, here and now.
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