A momentary lapse of madness

"In solitude, we are least alone." - Lord Byron

The icy fingers of the wind played across the craggy mountainside, screaming a primeval lullaby; tough love. The wanderer looked up towards the sky, smiling. The stars smiled back. The stillness of solitude offered him a measure of peace. He wouldn't quite call it enlightenment, no, that would be too self-assured. Rather, he felt what could only be described as a certain sense of equilibrium - a feeling of comfort, of belonging. Call it hope, if you will. As the cold winter breeze washed over him, he felt strangely comforted. In some odd way, he felt warm. Far from the screams, the curses, and the tears, he was home. As he stood upon that mountain, time faded into irrelevance, the voices of the past drowned out by the howling wind. And the future waited patiently, in silence. All he heard was the wind's raspy voice, absorbing and soothing. At that moment, nothing existed beyond the mountain. Memory dared not interrupt his reverie. No, he had not forgotten the past, rather, he'd learned much from it. And, at that moment, he'd simply chosen not to summon his recollections. The heat from his intense inward gaze had burned away the cobwebs, so, he could finally see past the surreal gray facades. He smelled the roses, felt their thorns and appreciated both sensations equally. He was a child, once more. Ever onward, deeper inward; the wanderer would never stop.

This whole rant was inspired by the following quote which I encountered in John Krakauer's Into The Wild:

"No man ever followed his genius till it misled him. Though the result were bodily weakness, yet perhaps no one can say that the consequences were to be regretted, for these were a life in conformity to higher principles. If the day and night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet-scented herbs, is more elastic, more starry, more immortal, ... That is your success. All nature is your congratulation, and you have cause momentarily to bless yourself. The greatest gains and values are farthest from being appreciated. We easily come to doubt if they exist. We soon forget them. They are the highest reality. ... The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched." - Henry David Thoreau, Walden or Life in the Woods.