Fear and loathing in Gryon, Switzerland

I feel so insignificant when compared to these mountains. Sitting and looking out the tiny windows of my impromptu meditative study room, the chalets on the opposite mountain remind me how small I am; remind me of my tiny existence when compared to these vast and jagged hillsides. I've missed so many things being here:, people, ideas, my animals, and 24-hour-service, but I have also gained. I've gained the chill feel to an evening dinner under the mountains with the fellowship of great friends and teachers; I've gained the excited late night scramble of train schedules and study sessions where my fellows students and I scour some specific romantic idea or memory or another; I've gained the soothing sound of water pounding from cliffs, wind in the pines, and meditation to the inhalation of smooth and sweet Alpine air...

Three weeks come and go more quickly than one can prepare for. One can read the material, prepare for the worst, communicate as often as possible and still be surprised. In the presence of such sublimity, such profound and unexplainable beauty, little is left to the imagination. I feel all and every minute of my journeys could not have been planned, could not have been sought for originally. Every endeavor I've encountered here, I've taken on the whim, and I am glad for that. Sure, some excursions have been planned and monitored, but for the most part, all our off-the-cuff plans have been the most rewarding. Having no phone, no parents, nothing but 20 francs, a few dried pieces of bread and chocolate, two pictures of your lover and animals, and a map explaining your limits as far as European public transportation goes is as free as it gets. Coming from an environment of straight-lined, narrow passages, I appreciated the freedom the Alps provided. I appreciated my moments of solitude, my moments of survival, however minute they appeared to others, and I especially enjoyed my other 11 comrades of travel with whom I met and became close.

I came to the Alps expecting great changes, refreshing air, and the best study of my lifetime. Reading specific literature written for this land, inspired by this land, and standing in exact locations of some of the greatest writers to live great to be intimidating. I found myself wondering if I was lacking some sort of creativity supposedly inspired by the very mountains I happened to be staring at, or if I were perhaps in the wrong place at the wrong time. But now I know the Alps are very personal. You're supposed to be a little mixed up and confused in these environments. Those big giants are supposed to intimidate us. Hell, they've been here longer than we can imagine, and they'll outlive us by centuries, most likely. How could they not wield the power? How could they not determine our destinies, our expectations for the future? The people of these lands have suffered because of this very sublime we praise. They have known the turmoil, the aching faith of this harsh land. Yet I still feel uplifted when I look out my skylight and see these pine tree felted hillsides.