My Spot blogpost#1

I’ve been to my spot before. Two years ago I took a class with a teacher named Jacob called Mysticism. We studied people who believed they had come into contact with god, and the art they produced from those experiences. One of our final projects was to create our own mystic religion, and a practice to hopefully induce a spiritual experience. Part of my project was being in nature. When we were outside, I started looking for a place off the path, and relatively secluded. Ever since I’ve referred to it as “The Mystic Spot”.

The transition from pavement to dirt isn't very noticeable. As you stray farther from the path, nature becomes dirtier and more chaotic. Brush starts cluttering the floor, and bramble will knick your ankles. The “entrance” is marked by three fallen trees; their uprooted bottoms create a cove where melted snow collects and becomes stagnate. It's gross place.

Climbing over the dead tree creates a clear transition between my spot, and the rest of nature. Dirt becomes sand and soon thereafter water. To call the ground sand is to be gracious. Sand, mud and rocks collect and mix into an altogether messy experience. The ground sinks under the weight of a step and seems to constantly be moving. Compared to the stagnancy of the forest, the stream feels fast and unsteady.

It's hard to imagine this forest ever lived. It doesn't seem like nature should be able to be described as grayscale. Where are the animals? Where is the greenery? Life comes in movement and energy, but this place is still. It's dead. What survives now isn't something that wants to be found. Whatever life is left here is resilient, and deceiving. I know that if I could look at it the right way, this place would be teeming with life. If I knew how I'm sure I could find all kinds of bugs and rodents just waiting to be found. But I don't have that kind of wisdom yet. So I see this place as a graveyard of sorts.

I know that life will begin to show itself soon. I look forward to that.

The path leading to my turnoff.

The dead tree I cross to arrive.

The mystic spot.