Journey vs. Destination

When I was in high school, my mom brought home a pop psych quiz that was supposed to tell you all about yourself. Though I don’t think my answers have changed much since then, et’s take it together…

1. What is your favorite animal? List three reasons why this animal is your favorite.

Easy! My favorite animal is the platypus because it is odd. And even though it is odd, everybody likes them partially because it is odd. The third reason is harder, I’m torn between liking them for their extra sense (they have some sort of electical sensing apparaturs that helps them hunt for small creatures in the water) or their hidden, nearly unknown lethality. Those venemous spurs are not good for anyone that tries to piss off the platypus. I guess the third reason is that they have secret super powers, something I very much respect.

2. What is your favorite color? List three reasons why.

This is harder, I shift between green and blue. But it has been a blue-is-my-favorite day so let’s go with that. I like a nice, true blue, medium dark. It is my favorite because it is serene, deep and strong.

3. What is your favorite type of body of water? Three reasons why.

No question here, the ocean is my favorite. I love the awe it inspires, the incredible beauty and the raw inevitable power.

Since I don’t really remember what things are supposed to mean, I won’t be able to interpret the answers for us but I recall the last answer shocking my (not-at-all puritanical) mother.

The awe and terror of the ocean is a constant in my life. When things go badly, it is to the ocean I want to go to be reassured that life will go on. I want to see something so much bigger than myself with a permanence that i feel deep in my bones. The ocean makes me feel insignificant and yet connected to the world.

The ocean represents life to me but also the erosion associated age and death. The ocean giveth and the ocean taketh away. And, like the waves, it is inevitable and neither good nor bad, it just is. And that is ok. The crystal-clear moments of perfectnes in my life? Almost all of them happened at the beach or on a pier.

I was surprised to find the same awesome beauty in the Mohave desert. The vast hugeness is part of it. In April, the Mohave is mostly brown with tufts of green; different colors of green though: the blue green of nearly seaweed, the brown green and silver gray, the yellow-green, and the brown-green. Oh, there is too much brown fo rme to want to stay there but it is amazing to see. And incredible to think that settlers coming to California had to cross this nearly alien landscape. As we drove across, C said that this is what the bottom of the ocean must look like. Tufts of grass, seaweed green and red plants growing higher. Life is here, you can feel it, but it is subtle and quiet about it.

But the Mohave isn’t a pretty place. Pretty is such an insipid word compared to desert, just as it is when applied to the ocean. The Mohave has the raw power of the ocean for me. And the feeling of insignificance.

C said he felt that way but just for a moment or two. For me, it was much longer though not the never-ending feeling I can get from the ocean (though driving by the ocean doesn’t do it for me so this comparison is weak).

The Painted Desert gave me this feeling of awe but C says not so much. And the Meteor Crater was neat but didn’t have it. Yesterday, after a bad night’s sleep and driving through Texas, all I thought about was how everything looked like a cartoon and I was sure to see Wile E. Coyote soon. Today had the lovely green and the trees but no awe. My response when I saw the Mississippi? I thought it would be bigger.

I worry that I’m maybe a little addicted to the feeling. I don’t know where to get the next fix. I bet Washington DC has some spots that will induce the feeling but will man-made monuments feel real enough? I’ve only gotten it from wild things, big things.