A Creative Absence 5-23-12

DELAYED POSTING FROM GEIRANGER NORWAY

Geiranger, Norway

Some months ago I came across an e-mail for voyages into the fjords of Norway. I was utterly captivated by an image of the Geiranger Fjord taken from the top of Mt. Dalsnibba. The view of deep blue copper-colored waters inspired me to consider a long-distance leave-taking from my often intense responsibilities. Copper salts from glacial melt produce a translucent blue unlike anything else.

For several reasons it had been growing on me to taking a substantial leave of several months from my usual schedule. In North America I found myself getting only six-hundred miles away but having many splendid experiences since the beginning of March in half a dozen states. I now find myself near the Arctic Circle in what many regard as one of the most magnificent heritage sites on earth. There’s no hyperbole involved.

I had the good sense to arise about 4 AM for sunrise which comes so very early this time of year in the far north. For several hours I was transfixed by views of brilliant glaciers, rocky peaks cloaked in shroud cloud, a stillness of the highest order. Winding our way through narrow canyons with their rock walls extending thousands of feet vertically reminded me of spiritual imperatives regarding the difficulty inherent in threading needles.

Arriving at the end of what’s considered the most spectacular fjord on earth, we found a village with 200 year-round residents. There’s a powerful sense of utter isolation and remoteness here. It’s hard to imagine a better visual metaphor for intentional creative absence than being in such a sublime and remote location.

My plan all along had been to climb to the top of one of these vast igneous blocks and attempt to capture the view as seen from Mt. Dalsnibba. The higher elevations are still problematic and road access is closed for avalanche warnings. Happily, a small half sheet of paper from the village provided a rough sketch of a trail head just outside the village, a trail promising a view much like that from Mt. Dalsnibba. A pleasing route led through larch and birch forest and across high pasture and meadow land. A herd of Llamas made me wonder if somehow I had ended up in the Andes instead. These inquisitive gentle beasts were quite happy to participate in a portrait sitting.

Five hours proved barely sufficient to reach my destination and gawk at paradise. A physician hiking down mountain encouraged me to persevere as did another fellow out doing an extreme jog up the mountain. A rocky final ascent with a bit of rope-assist provided a splendid clear view of the deep blue waters of Geiranger Fjord as I had seen in an e-mail months ago. Somehow my visual metaphor is now complete. At this point I now need to discern the true lessons to be had from climbing up and looking down on paradise.

I’m wondering why it is that I have been granted to be able to have such a transcendent experience, looking straight down from a great igneous block. There is something rather heady and a bit disorienting about standing on a razor-sharp edge dropping more than a thousand feet. Perhaps I will find that being grounded on the same level with those people in my community of choice is every bit as inspiring.

I’m finding in recent days a longing to speak with many I’ve not spoken to in some time. Did I have to come this far to learn the obvious - the grass is greener on my side of the fence, even if paradise is just on the other side, a thousand feet down? Perhaps the most beautiful view is found in the face of a good friend who knows how to touch my soul.

Blessings,

Craig C. Johnson