In a New Light
I lived in Baguio City for nine months when I joined the Miriam Volunteer Mission on 2011. Every day I would wake up feeling the chilled Cordillera air mixed with the faint smell of pines and would see the great mountain range through the window when I have my breakfast. It was a beautiful sight and a wonderful feeling to be surrounded by nature. But, as with all things that we encounter every day, I got used to the view after some time.
In 2013, up to now- 2015, because of my involvement in many hiking trips, I have gone back to the Cordilleras so many times that I have lost track of the times I have gone up the mountains to climb. Going to the Cordillera became so normal an activity that the mountain lost much of its grandeur, its wonder. It was a sad feeling- hiking with an empty heart, walking with meaning absent on each step. It was as if I lost something I deeply treasure and I have no idea how to bring it back.
A friend once told me that I should hike as long as the passion is there. Back then I secretly laughed at what he said because I thought the drive to reach mountaintops will always be with me. But he is right, passion fades, excitement fades after doing something over and over again. And when those feelings fade, we wonder what we are left of- these feelings have filled me and now that they are gone, there seems to be a hollow that cannot be filled.
But then, my family and I suddenly went to Baguio. It was an abrupt decision- we had no plans, no room to stay in. I was amused by the spontaneity of my parents and relatives, the ease in which they decide things in order for us to travel to new places.
While the van zigzag its way up Kennon road, the Cordillera slowly greeted us with its majestic grandness: gorges, ravines, waterfalls, ancient rock faces that seems to hold all the history of the universe. All these past before our eyes that have been so used to seeing polluted cities. My relatives cannot stop gushing about the beauty of the mountains! And before long, I was one with them on admiring the beauty of the Cordillera. It was as if I was seeing the mountains for the first time!
As I see more, many memories flashed before me: my 4th grade self wishing ardently that I live in Baguio someday so that I can see more mountains, my high-school self singing “the hills are alive with the sound of music” silently while looking at some green hills, my college self falling hopelessly in love with the thoughts of Peruvian Andes, and of course that first time when I saw Batad, and the mountains of Cordillera while riding at the top of a jeepney going to Sagada.
I realized that all my life, the mountains have always defined me, my dreams, and my decisions. The thoughts of mountains have guided me and is still guiding me in whatever it is I want to pursue. Mountains doesn’t speak but its wisdom has taught me lessons and showed me realizations about life that I could not have found anywhere. It bought me friends and friends who are now family. It showed me dreams and made my dreams come true.
My love for the mountains may not manifest itself anymore in that roaring desire to hike, have more summits climbed compared to other mountaineers, and have more views to boast of but I know it is there (I’ am not even sure if what I felt before was really love). It doesn’t flare anymore like those firecrackers at New Year’s Eve distracting me from my tasks and other activities. Rather, it flickers, it glows, calmly and silently, warming my heart as a shaft of dappled sunlight warms my face.
I like how I feel with the mountains now more than before: calm, serene as soft piano music. I believe that this kind of feeling is the feeling that endures through time. I believe that this is a feeling that lasts.
