Mt. Wittenberg
May 17, 2008 – 7:12 am
It’s not until I’m lying near the summit of Mt. Wittenberg, flat on my belly and watching the dragonflies across the clearing, that I realize that I’ve dozed on her flanks other times in the past, and always when I needed solace and solitude. I ended up here on both of my solo camping trips at Point Reyes. And once, still partly drunk after staying up all night before, I drove out here as the sun was rising, and dragged a sleeping bag up to Sky Camp to doze through the morning. I couldn’t explain then why I needed that, but I knew I had done enough drinking and crying and that wasn’t helping anymore.
I’ve ended up here again, without realizing consciously that this is where I needed to come. There aren’t any of the bobcats, Piliated Woodpeckers, or white Fallow Deer I’ve seen up here in the past…it’s much too hot. Everything but the dragonflies has retreated to the shade, like me. But there is peace.
When we’re kids, we make decisions about what we need to do to survive. We’re not conscious of those decisions; to us they seem like The Way It Is. I developed strategies to keep my world together. I knew how to head off an argument, how to avoid a lecture, how to hide my feelings, how to keep the emotions of those around me from exploding. I explored techniques of keeping my desires and inclinations hidden when I didn’t think they’d match the expectations of me. If it worked, I felt like I was on the right track…I was successful. If it didn’t work, I didn’t question the strategy…I just berated myself for not pushing harder. I just needed to work harder; I was being lazy. I wasn’t good enough. There was something wrong with me. I’ll do better, I promise. I’m going to fix all of this. I’ll be good. And I would shove the real me further down inside.
I’m beginning to understand what those strategies were, and also how they fail to serve me now. Over the past week, I realized how little it takes to put me right back into that very small place, even at forty-four! All I have to do is physically return to the place of my childhood. The real me is so far removed from what’s expected of me there…it’s all too easy to push the real self down again, just to get by. It was a revelation to me. There is enormous grief for me in realizing that I will never get to relate as my true self there. I can’t call that “home”. I can’t even call it “where I grew up.”
But here on Mt. Wittenberg, lying in the grass watching the dragonflies, I understand how those old strategies that no longer serve me. It’s in my power to replace the mask they created with my own true self.
Heading down the steep trail from the summit, through luscious ferns and Bay trees, a Great Horned Owl calls. I’m grateful for Steve’s trekking pole, and smile that even out here on my own, he’s supporting me. I wonder what the Miwok called this mountain. Once we came down the side of this mountain and found a huge shedded skin of a gopher snake. I feel like I’ve shedded my old old skins here, more than once.
If you’re looking for a mostly shady hike at Point Reyes, try taking the Bear Valley Trail to Old Pine to Sky to the summit of Mt. Wittenberg. Then take the Mt. Wittenberg trail back to Bear Valley. This online excerpt from Don Marin’s excellent book Point Reyes National Seashore: A Hiking and Nature Guide
2 Responses to “Mt. Wittenberg”
I find that interesting and, really, amazing, that a certain PLACE can have properties–a personality, an “attitude,” a “feel”–that complement one’s own ongoing personality and temporary moods. There are places for me like this (not saying but a couple of them rhyme with “rig rock ridge” and “reath ralley”…), and I’ve returned to them again and again and found what I needed there. Kinda like those friends you have with whom you don’t need to speak, but can sometimes just give a glance, they *accommodate* you, *fit* you. And this is a good reason to save as MANY places as possible from overdevelopment, overadvertisement (”best-kept secret!”), not to mention full-on trashing (”Hidden Pines Exclusive Living”)… This place atop Mt. Whittenberg *is* special to me, but not that *special* special–that extra specialness is for you alone.
By S on May 22, 2008
I’m glad I finally realized what I was experiencing…I probably could have gone through life showing up here every time I was confused about my own feelings, feel better for it, and never notice the connection! I like being a person who, like you, notices it.
All of Point Reyes is sacred to me, of course, but the ridges and slopes of this particular mountain are especially so.
By Terrie on May 23, 2008