Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau — we have named one of our furry, stuffed pets “Hank Dave” in honor of Thoreau — were trail buds, kind of like Lisa and me, but not really. Emerson warned Thoreau that Mount Greylock was a “serious mountain.” Thoreau’s response was to up and summit forthwith. Bushwhacking the final portion to the top, we can’t say he was rewarded with a spectacular view because he wasn’t. The damned place was hopelessly fogged in.
Nonetheless, Hank Dave (the original) described his experience as “a road for the pilgrim to enter upon, who would climb to the gates of heaven.” Thoreau experts mark this occasion as a turning point in his life, a trip that led to a transformation within. To wit…
Henry was very close to his brother, John, who was two years older. The two started a school together, a school distinguished for taking a hands-on approach to learning and for the absence of corporal punishment. When John died of lockjaw (Clostridium tetani) at the age of 27, Henry showed few outward signs of emotion but he developed symptoms of lockjaw himself. He eventually recovered. What the mountain climb did for Henry, especially after he spent the night on Greylock, was to push his development; he learned that he was strong enough to go on without his brother. A year later he began his experiment at Walden Pond.
My own experience is not quite the same as Hank Dave’s, but it reminds me of my own journey. Simply, my brother Laurence frequently encouraged me to “travel more.” He died in the summer of 2009, and when he did, I began to understand in a whole new way that we don’t live forever. I realized that with all the times we say, “I’ll get to it,” there will come a time when we will not get to it. Laurence died of a disease, we knew his death was coming. The difference between him and the rest of us is that, while we all know that we will die, Laurence had a pretty good idea of when. The rest of us don’t know when. Could be in twenty years, or twenty minutes. When we say, “I’ll get to it,” we can’t be sure if that’s true. So if we really want to get to it, we’d best get to it now.
Whatever holds you back? Is it fear? Fear of heights? Fear of financial problems? Xenophobia? The fear of the foreign or strange?
Fachluophobia, the fear of darkness?
Anthropophobia, the fear of people or society?
Nosophobia, the fear of contracting a disease?
Dystychiphobia, the fear of accidents?
Even koumpounophobia, the fear of buttons?
Megalophobia, the fear of large things?
How about hodophobia, something I’m a bit familiar with, the fear of travel?
Whatever fears hold you back, Laurence would assure you that travel is better than holding that fear.
I never liked to travel before. As of this writing, inspired by my brother, in life as well as in death, Lisa and I have summited 27 high points and we’ve visited 33 states together. Brother Laurence would be proud.