View from the Edge

With the majestic ocean on one side and towering trees on the other, it had the makings of a beautiful hike.

Yes. The churning of the ocean, the swooshing of the conifers and… the grumbling of one ten-year-old.

“How much longer?” “Do we even know where our car is?” “I would rather go play with the bunnies.” “Parents…are you even listening???”

The parents continued to take in the nature and the hike and hoped the trees would soak up the complaining. Amidst dinosaur-like heaves and forced enthusiasm, one parent attempted to point out to the surrounding wonders of nature.

Now this was a fairly easy hike, but at one point as we got higher, the path gone narrower, the craggy cliff seemed to poke into our faces and the ground was slippery.

“Okay, now this is just plain dangerous. It is not safe for us to be here,” our ten-year-old pointed out in a familiar, at-least-one person-in-the-family-has-good-judgment tone.

“Oh, come on… it’s not that bad,” I replied and recounted stories of treacherous paths from childhood hikes in the Sahyadris.

Interested, but unconvinced, she shook her head, and mumbled some more about the wet slippery leaves, the narrow path and our bad judgment.  

Right about then, the narrow bend of the trail wrapped around the cliff and we stood at the edge. The view was spectacular. The forest beneath us opened into a wide expanse of ocean in an uninterrupted, forever sense of manner. There were no interruptions - nothing blocked the view. It was clear, simple and beautiful.

“You always get the best views from the edge of a cliff,” I commented to my girl.

I paused as I slowly repeated to myself: ‘you always get the best views from the edge’.

I sighed. Metaphorically speaking, in life’s trying moments, when it feels as if we are at the edge, the view is the clearest, it is the simplest. Right before us, stand in clarity, the few things (the remarkably few things) that really matter. Triviality and its enormous mass and fog, fades away taking with it much that we occupy our daily mind and day. We are left staring with clarity at only a handful of things.  

Certainly, there is a mountain behind us. But for an instance, standing at the edge of the precipice, we are not aware of the mountain. All we can see is the vast, wide expanse.  

There are no interruptions - nothing blocks the view. It is clear, simple and beautiful.

Agreed that despite the clarity, we cannot remain at the edge forever. It would not be safe to do so. We would not want to do so. But as we turn the curve, is it possible to not re-immerse ourselves into the fog of triviality and to remain with the clarity? To carry back the clarity?

For in it, there are no interruptions - nothing blocks the view. It is clear, simple and beautiful.