TO MEET THE UNIVERSE FACE TO FACE

This is the most sublime place on earth. There are many such places. Every man carries in heart
the sense of the right place, known or unknown, real or unreal. For me, I take Southern Utah.
The canyonlands. The sandstone deserts. The red dust, the burnt cliffs and the big sky. The place
where days linger long, spacious and free like the summers of childhood.

Staring at this inhuman sight of rock, sky and space, an absurd greed is engulfing me. I want to
embrace this terrain totally, as a man desires a woman. An insane wish? Perhaps not. Not if we
get out and walk, better yet crawl, on hands and knees, over stones and through bush. When
blood begins to mark our path, we’ll grasp something. Maybe.

Because we are here not only to lose the confusion of culture, but also to confront the core of
existence, the root which sustains us. To behold a stone and see it in itself, free from human
narration. To meet the universe face to face, even if we risk everything human in ourselves. I
dream of a harsh mysticism in which the bare self melts into the nonhuman world and survives
still intact. A paradox.

Immersed in this land, I sense clearly now how the plow of mortality sets the scene. It drives
through these rocks and turns over the weeds to clear the field for the next growth. A brutal
process – but beautiful. Our nature rebels against this truth, because another truth contradicts it.
This second truth declares through art, religion, and science that human life transcends the limits
of nature. And we can deny this second truth only at the cost of denying our humanity.

How difficult to imagine this place without a human presence, but how necessary! I almost
believe that this sweet ancient land would be grateful for our final departure, because it could
return to its primal procedures. Grateful for our departure? Another expression of human vanity.
The finest feature of this domain is its indifference to our absence. The rocks will still be here,
sunlight will flitter through, water will form… and after sufficient time, earthlings will emerge
again.

For my part, I’m constantly surprised that I exist. And I’m pleased enough with simple things.
Such as the flavor of water, the starlight on rocks, the smell of fruits, the music of the wind, and
the embrace of a friend. What else is there? What else do we need?