on This Earth

In this series of posts, we focus on our connection with different places. Places are an important part of nature even if we don’t often view them that way. Different geographical locations support different ecosystems and with differing interactions with the various elements of nature. For example, a tropical rain forest in Singapore is starkly different from a temperate rain forest in Scotland. However, they do share similar characteristics. And these are the features the series focus on as we build our connections to a given place and location. For this post, we focus on the mountains and hills around us.

On the last Monday of August last year, I sat looking across Glen Coe at the Three Sisters. I had just attempted to reach the summit Ben Nevis in a storm the day before. I reflected on the fascination we as human beings have with mountains.  In Scotland, there is a tradition of Munro-bagging, i.e. to reach all the peaks of the highest mountains (over 914 m) in Scotland.  For the last two centuries or so, we view mountains as a challenge to conquer. This leads to activities like Munro-bagging or the sport of mountaineering.  But traditionally, mountains are seen to be sacred sites. For example, Mount Sinai is where Prophet Moses spoke to God. Mount Olympus is where the Greeks believed their Gods live. Uluru is sacred to the Pitjantjatjara, the Aboriginal people of the area. There are many more sacred mountains in the world. 

There is something about mountains that evoke a sense of awe. The ranges dominate the landscape for thousands if not million of years.  A constant in a fast and ever changing world, mountains give a sense of stability to people.  I have been through Glen Coe multiple times and it never fails to take my breath away.  I wrote about this in my Ramadhan series post on mountains, linked here.

And in April, canoeing around Loch Benevean, I gained another perspective of the mountains. From the water, the mountains seemed more remote yet nearer too as they loomed over me. It made me feel very vulnerable and tiny. It also reminds me of the verse in Surah Al-A’raf 7:171 where God said He raised the mountain over them like a canopy.

وَإِذۡ نَتَقۡنَا ٱلۡجَبَلَ فَوۡقَهُمۡ كَأَنَّهُ ۥ ظُلَّةٌ۬ وَظَنُّوٓاْ أَنَّهُ ۥ وَاقِعُۢ بِہِمۡ خُذُواْ مَآ ءَاتَيۡنَـٰكُم بِقُوَّةٍ۬ وَٱذۡكُرُواْ مَا فِيهِ لَعَلَّكُمۡ تَتَّقُونَ (١٧١)

And [did We not say,] when We caused Mount Sinai to quake above the children of Israel as though it were a [mere] shadow, and they thought that it would fall upon them, “Hold fast with [all your] strength unto what We have vouchsafed you, and bear in mind all that is therein, so that you might remain conscious of God”? (171)

Mountains also exposes you to the elements; in fact in the mountains, you are at the mercy of the elements.  Battered by the winds and rain while climbing Ben Nevis, I wondered if we have become too arrogant. We think that with our modern gears, we can conquer both mountains and elements.  Any experienced hiker will tell you that it is an illusion.  Respecting the mountains and elements is a must.

Unlike some other aspects of nature, mountains or even hills are not accessible to everyone. But if you have access to them, it is worth building that connection to the mountains and hills. For they are living witnesses of the history of the land and the people that have gone before. In Edinburgh, for example, Arthur’s Seat and its surrounding hills were witness to the historical events. Bronze and iron age fortresses, Roman occupation, and the advent of Christianity were just a few of those. As we traverse the same land, we too become part of the collective history. In Islam, this concept of the Earth as a witness is mentioned in Surah Al-Zalzala 99:1-4

إِذَا زُلۡزِلَتِ ٱلۡأَرۡضُ زِلۡزَالَهَا (١) وَأَخۡرَجَتِ ٱلۡأَرۡضُ أَثۡقَالَهَا (٢) وَقَالَ ٱلۡإِنسَـٰنُ مَا لَهَا (٣) يَوۡمَٮِٕذٍ۬ تُحَدِّثُ أَخۡبَارَهَا (٤)

WHEN THE EARTH quakes with her [last] mighty quaking, (1) and [when] the earth yields up her burdens, (2) and man cries out, “What has happened to her?” (3) On that Day will she recount all her tidings, (4) as thy Sustainer will have inspired her to do!

Therefore, we should be conscious of our steps, literally and figuratively.

Engaging the senses

This is where the art of mindful walking comes in. If you have not done those practices, I would encourage you to do so first. The first part of the practice can be found here. Walking mindfully up the hills and mountains help us connect better to them.

In the hills and mountains, the sense of direction is important. Having a map and compass is essential but just as important is cultivating the sense of direction. In the hills and mountains, it is easy to lose your bearing, especially in bad weather. A friend and I went hiking up a hill in search of a cave in winter once. Don’t ask me why we thought it was wise to do so. There was no real path and as we turned back, it started to snow. So visibility was poor. Alhamdulillah (Praise be to God) that I managed to recognise the landmarks and terrain to guide us back down.

I am still learning about reading directions in the hills and mountains. A recent observation is that the snow patches tend to be North-facing. So if we walk towards the snow patches, we are moving Southward. Another way I learn to gain my bearing is to look at the sunlight and shadows cast by the clouds. Unless you’re out very early morning or very late afternoon, the sun should be to the south. And so the shadows are on the South-facing side. And because the South-facing gets more sunlight, it tends to be relatively drier and there are less moss growing.

Going back to my third post on the art of mindful walking, linked here, by using my various senses, I build up a map in my head, with landmarks to help guide me. Like one of the weekends when I was exploring Benarty Hill, I decided to deviate from the regular path. I was able to locate myself based on the forest, the hillock where the path was, and the wall.

I was also able to find the direction of prayer from the position of the sun. Which luckily was out even though we had passing showers. Praying up on the hill while being rained on is an incredible experience. Face down in the heather, water rolling off my back, the wind blowing my jacket – it was a bit of a sensory overload while still being serene.

On another weekend, my friend and I climbed Ben Lawers. We didn’t manage to get to the top as we nearly lost our footing and balance near the top because of the strong wind. But I managed to record part of our walk below. My visual and auditory senses were really engaged on the walk.

Reflection

You can read more of my in-depth reflection in my Ramadhan series post on mountains, linked here.

A few more thoughts that I would like to share here:

• Even the most experienced mountaineers have gotten lost and lost their lives in the mountains. Ultimately, guidance and safety comes from God. Walking alone in the hills make me very conscious of this. An example of this was when I deviated from the path in deep snow in the Pentlands. It was very difficult to find the path when the whole landscape was just pure white. Several times, I almost twisted my ankles because I didn’t know there were holes and ditches underneath. And it took hours going round several hillocks to get to my destination.
• I remember my first time at the mountain peak, looking down on the clouds. I realised how small we were up there in the windy peak. Small specks that could be blown off or tumbled down if the mountain decide to shake us off. It was a very humbling thought. But it was also exhilarating to be somewhere I never thought I’d be, given my phobia of heights.
• The mountains also shape the people living there. Having lived in Scotland for over a decade, I find the people who live in the highlands tend to be very friendly and neighbourly. They look out for one another – close nit communities.

Practice session

If you have not practised the mindful walking technique, I would encourage you once again to start there. After that, if you are new to hill-walking, try a gentle hill with well-marked path. Walk the same hill multiple times in different conditions.

As you walk, I invite you to feel the ground under you. Notice how it changes depending the moisture in it, the gradient, the type of soil and vegetation. Observe how your feet react to these changes and how comfortable you are with them. And listen to the sounds around you. What can you hear? Which direction is it from? What can you learn from it? Similarly with sight and your other senses.