(Hilary Valdez)
Years ago, as an adventurous wild man, I went to place called Afognak, part of the Kodiak National Wildlife Refuge off the coast of Alaska. For thousands of years, the island was home to the Sugpiaq (Alutiiq) people, who were supported by fishing villages.
Save for bears, deer, salmon and other wildlife, Kodiak Island felt mostly desolate as I spent the time hiking and camping. After two weeks surviving on wild salmon and dehydrated eggs, it began to snow, it was time to fold my tent and move on.
Kodiak Island Borough is part of the larger Aleutian Trench zone in Southern Alaska. Much of borough is federally managed as part of a national park, national forest and national wildlife refuge.
Sadly, while fishing with my expensive high grade Garcia fishing pole, it snapped under the enormous strength of a salmon, one of different species on the island; sockeye, chinook, coho, pink, and chum. “Is this a bad omen?” I asked myself. The pole shouldn’t have snapped.
The next day, slowly and carefully hiking up the slippery, steep, snow-covered Koniag Peak, (4,521ft/1,378m), I felt confident being with a seasoned Canadian hiker. The breathtaking view of the vast snowcapped mountain ranges was exhilarating with the wonders of nature overloading my senses into another world of appreciation and gratitude.
Looking up and losing sight of the time, dark clouds started to quickly form, snow falling and temperatures dropping as ice formed on the slope. Descending, I lost my footing and started sliding down the mountain uncontrollably, panicking trying to stop.
My partner yelled “Use your ice ax!” And out of nowhere, a small deep-rooted shrub was popping out of the snow, which I anxiously grabbed, stabbing the ice, before I fell off the precipice. Throwing a long rope at me, we slowly navigated our way to the bottom on the mountain.
Later, as we continued in the dark, snow stinging frozen, pink faces, I fell into an ice hole filled with freezing water. My friend was having difficulty pulling me out as I began shivering nonstop. Lucky for me, two guys were walking on the same route and pulled me out and held on to me as we walked. Once inside my tiny room, I removed the semi-frozen clothes and wrapped myself in blankets, huddling next to a steam heater, shivering.
Luck was again on my side and this time it was because the Navy SEAL teams happened to be conducting cold weather survival training in the area.
A few nights later, as I stared up at the Northern Lights in wonder, I couldn’t help but think about surviving two brushes with death with moments of each other. Why am I here?
I never thought about the meaning of life before. Maybe it was time to create my own meaning. Beneath the stars, the universe was silent to my deepest question. I am experiencing my existence without a clear script, without certainty of purpose.
In choosing to live, to act, I affirm life’s value. As I stood there, I began to realize that life has no predetermined script while I became aware of my vulnerability and to the preciousness of our brief time on earth.
The limited nature of our days makes each choice, each connection and each moment of beauty irreplaceable. Life’s meaning is felt in the now, in listening to another soul with full attention, in knowing that to love and to be loved—even for a brief time—is enough. Meaning is not distant but interwoven into each moment we are awake to it.
The meaning of life is not far away. It is here, now, in every breath, being alive, aware, and able to choose kindness in the world. How are you when you wake up? What do you say to yourself? “I’m happy for another day!” and pop out of bed like warm toast. Or “Oh Jeeez, another lousy day?” And have the grumpies all day?
When we treat each moment as a gift and see others not as the enemy but as fellow travelers on the path of life, when we live with courage and compassion, we participate in meaning itself. You create meaning in your life. A positive mental attitude helps in appreciating each day. Every day is sacred. Practice appreciation for the small things that you take for granted, like waking up and walking to the kitchen for coffee. Life is a gift.
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Hilary Valdez is a freelancer living in Tokyo, Japan. He is an experienced Mental Health professional and Resiliency Trainer. Valdez is a former Marine and has worked with the military most of his career and most recently worked at Camp Zama as a Master Resiliency Trainer. Valdez now has a private practice and publishes books on social and psychological issues. His books are available on Amazon and for Kindle. Learn more about Valdez and contact him at his website or email. Follow his YouTube channel Hilary’s Quick Talk for more insights.
