One of the first things I thought about this morning was how much I wrote about our recent experience at Jim Creek, where we played in the Knik Glacier ice. I feel a lot of conflict that changes my perception of the experience about that scene. I considered, “am I supposed to ignore every thought I have about the way other people take part in visiting a place like this?” Expectations feel overbearing — but damn, do we really have to walk amongst dog pee and poop inside of this amazing natural scene, watching our steps to stay clean?

This is generally a metaphor for the way I feel about many aspects of living here in Alaska. And it isn’t the first time displacement is a subject here — see also Elevation and Transitions for other rants.

What a total privilege to be in a place like this (and at that glacier) — yet the bulk of my thinking is on the way others persist in the same space. The sound of ATV engines changes everything for me, so I think about what it would be like in silence; dogs barking and running over to our camp from the neighboring one changes the complexion of the gathering; the threat of breaking through the ice in one of the ATVs makes the trip slightly stressful. All these are complications generated by our brains, artifacts of unnecessary technical advancements we could have traded for a longer, more arduous, and potentially more enjoyable trip. I would have been good with that, but maybe Myesha and I would be the only ones in our group happy with the tradeoff.

How is this thought process any different than a potential avenue to be traveled down for every other technical advancement I leverage? Does that make me a hypocrite? Certainly. So what does that mean: am I out of place in time, or just over-critical? Because I could just ignore this shit and move on with my life, happy with being alive.

Although in the past I gave this kind of exercise in self-loathing more weight, as far as I’m concerned nowadays it’s something to think about in passing. And the energy to put into the thinking should be minimized. It just isn’t that important for drilling down. Considering the breadth of potential observations in this place, and the time we live in — because white people and their detritus are everywhere — thoughts about this sort of “self-reflection” could consume me. If I don’t ignore it, I’ll spend the rest of my life thinking about how I should have changed, and what would that get me? How do I know the actions to take that benignly direct living, anyway?

I guess that’s why the Stoics and Buddhists didn’t bother with high-level control and instead attack behavior from the root of thinking. After you figure out how to understand what is controllable, make a cursory attempt to understand what is necessary to align with good. There is much judgment embedded in statements like that, but I suppose we have to live with the uncertainty.