Epiphany. I just love saying the word. It feels like it should be whispered over and over like the first drops of rain on a tin roof... e-pip-hany e-pip-hany ... until it gets louder and faster, bursting into a sun shower of reality. Well, hopefully.
Last time I had an epiphany was along the Khumbu Trail enroute to Mt Everest. A little place called Lobuche actually, 4930m above sea level. Suffering from a combination of altitude sickness and the sort of sleep apnoea that does away with stupid Western trekkers, my hacking cough rendered me momentarily doubled over in agony.
Khumbu Trail approaching Lobuche (Mt Everest in background)
Which is when I saw 'it'. A massive piece of amber, glinting in the bright sunlight reflecting off the Khumbu moraine I was currently almost prone upon. The leaves of some long ago plant or tree were still visible, forever cocooned in this soft warm ancient sap.
At a time when breathing was my sole purpose in life, closely followed by one step in front of the other, trying to keep my SLR from freezing and avoiding the annoying American (sorry) called Hank, the last thing my oxygen starved brain needed was further complication in the form of an epiphany.
So here's my amber moment:
The Earth will always be an enigma, we will never understand everything about it.
Your life is nothing in relation to Earth's time span.
You live, you will die as all before you but the Earth will continue.
Now, I suppose it all seems rather obvious and maybe the lightheadedness of oxygen starvation created some sort of mini stroke BUT I still remember this moment clearly. If I may liken it to the molt of a cicada's shell (thanks @lapuntadelfin) it was a mini rebirth as such. From that moment on I have looked with new eyes at many things and in fact came home and moved away from the city, so fake and grossly opulent with wastage.
Yet 12 years later, I find myself having another epiphany, albeit a rather basic one.
I really hate the cold.
(Small Issue: currently residing 960m above sea level/chilly most days)
This is where I live
So here I am in a place I should not be, but this time around it isn't as easy as upping sticks. A child of the sea, the closest I get these days is a once a year holiday to Northern Rivers region or a beach somewhere in Queensland. This results in silent crying for most of the 1200km car journey home again... tad self indulgent? You bet! *winks But there's nothing like leaving the pristine blue skies of your youth to return to the omnipresent grey of your current abode and saying 'how did I end up here?'.
Epiphanies: we all have them but when was the last time you acted on yours? Undertaking my personal revelations straightaway may not always be an option but having my own spiritual 'To Do List' means some things get dealt with sooner than even I anticipate.
But for now, it has just started raining again so I think I'll go and let the rain speak to me awhile.
All photography Copyright by Lis Petersen unless otherwise stated