It was in October of 1921 when Benton MacKaye’s article, An Appalachian Trail: A project in regional planning was published in the Journal of the American Institute of Architects. With the backdrop of socioeconomic detail, MacKaye proposed a trail to extend from Mt. Katahdin, Maine to Mt. Mitchell, North Carolina along the Appalachian mountain range. He asserted that if people used their vacation time “on the skyline, and kept their eyes open, they would see the things that the giant could see.” His proposal was this: “a project to develop the opportunities for recreation, recuperation, and employment in the region of the Appalachian skyline.” (1921) This new trail would extend and connect work already done including the 210 miles of the Long Trail in Vermont developed by The Green Mountain Club, and trails made by the Appalachian Mountain Club in New Hampshire and many trails down south.
The impact, inspiration and vision held by Benton MacKaye may be somewhat numbed by our present situation. It is difficult to appreciate just what he proposed at the time he proposed it. We live in a world of planning, whether or not the best plans are implemented and carried out, and we live knowing full well that the trail exists and is utilized. Not only was this concept of carving out a trail, preserving a portion of America in this way new—so, too, was the concept that people would “use” their precious vacation time in ways to improve their health and wellbeing in this way. Perhaps hardest to envision and appreciate is that regional planning was not even a thing yet! It was not until two years later that the Regional Planning Association of America was established and when Harvard taught its first course in regional and urban planning, both in 1923.
Now, over a century old, MacKaye’s writing and proposal seems more apropos than ever. One could easily forget the period in which he wrote that “living has been considerably complicated of late in various ways—by war, by questions of personal liberty, and by ‘menaces’ of one kind or another. There have been created bitter antagonisms. We are undergoing also the bad combination of high prices and unemployment. This situation is world wide—the result of a world-wide war.” (1921) Was this, in fact, describing 1921—or today, over 100 years later?
MacKaye described “the spare time of our population” as an “enormous undeveloped power.” In 1921 terms he stated: “Suppose just one percent of it were focused upon one particular job such as increasing the facilities for the outdoor community life. This would be more than a million people, representing over two million weeks a year. It would be equivalent to 40,000 persons steadily on the job.” He listed recreation, and health and recouperation, and employment on the land, and a fashion to draw people out of urban environments to rural to play and live as benefits of such a project. Later, MacKaye described the “ultimate purpose of the trail… To walk. To See. To see what you see.”
It is through meditation that seeing and seeing what you see become separate and powerful entities. Thich Nhat Hanh, in his book Peace is Every Step (1991) wrote that “we may want to leave the city and go off to the countryside to help close those windows that trouble our spirit. There we can become one with the quiet forest, and rediscover and restore ourselves, without being swept away by the chaos of the ‘outside world.’ The fresh and silent woods help us remain in awareness, and when our awareness is well-rooted and we can maintain it without faltering, we may wish to return to the city and remain there, less troubled. But sometimes we cannot leave the city, and we have to find the refreshing and peaceful elements that can heal us right in the midst of our busy lives. We may wish to visit a good friend who can comfort us, or go for a walk in a park and enjoy the trees and the cool breeze. Whether we are in the city, the countryside, or the wilderness, we need to sustain ourselves by choosing our surroundings carefully and nourishing our awareness in each moment.” (pp 14-15)
While increasing the “outdoor community life,” the Appalachian Trail and others like it also increase inner communal life. By taking meditative steps, leaping over rocks and roots, we concentrate not on what we left behind and not what is up ahead, but what is present, underfoot, here and now. As our breathing becomes hard and heavy and heard, we are present and appreciative of the oxygen and fresh air we so vitally need. When our muscles are taxed and stretched and our bodies lie down on the earth, we are not just reminded of, but we feel the energy expounded and exerted and shared.
We all walk every day. We see every day. But are the steps meditative and appreciated? Are they labored… or treasured? Do you see the colors? Smell the earth? Feel its energy? Hear the sounds?
What does the giant see? Who is the giant? Is there a giant in you or in me?
Walk the walk. No more talking the talk. Breathe in. Breathe out. See. Feel. Hear. It’s here inside you and inside me. And, one cannot help but smile, and that smile stretches across vast seas, from mountaintops to mountaintops. It is present in corn fields, over coursing wheat and squatty pineapples. Your inner communal life exists and once found is shared as love. Eye to eye; fingertip to fingertip; shared breath to shared breath.
You do not have to step foot on the Camino or the AT or the moon to embrace its energy and power. You harbor it. You have the ability not only to see what you see, but to feel what you feel. That is worth smiling about and worth sharing. So go there, whether in person or spirit. It is yours for the seeing, yours to feel and embrace.
Confusius stated that mountains are moved one stone at a time. Find your mountain within and move it one of five million steps at a time without, and you will discover that you are never alone and that the concepts and beliefs you harbor are enduring and universal. We are, indeed, one.
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