Sunday, November 23, 2008

Hiking in Amicalola Falls

Last year as a high school senior, I had compiled a list of all the different things that were important to me in a university. Visiting Emory, I fell in love. The stunning campus architecture, combined with the natural wonder of Georgian green space really solidified the notion that Emory could become more a home than school. The visit last week to Amicalola Falls was an opportunity for me to regain that sense of wonder.
Amicalola Falls is about an hour and a half’s drive away from campus. The journey itself was breath-taking. After living in Texas for the past two years, it was a fantastic rush to witness the transition of seasons on a two-lane highway surrounded by trees. We drove up an intimidating hill to park, and climbed down again to hit the forest trail. It was amazing. Climbing higher and higher up, we were fully buried inside that view from the window. Stretching from the different sensations of tree roots and dead leaves on the ground, to the smell of the forest, the sounds and textures of the breeze, everywhere was stunning sensory input. We climbed with a sense of purpose, identifying the plant life and taking moments to simply appreciate the gifts of life and freedom that surrounded us. It was a completely liberating change of pace after focusing so intently on my academics.
College life brings a number of new stresses—independence, responsibilities, social anxieties—that can easily take on an identity of its own, and overwhelm the mindful state. Part of the way we as students make it to an institution like Emory is by having a tendency to focus on the future. We were the kids in high school who studied hard, kept our noses clean, and got involved with the collective goal of higher education. To people with that focus, the concept of a single quiz determining a quarter of a grade in a class spirals into a series of overwhelming inquiry: “What if I don’t do well? What if I fail the course? What if that ruins my GPA? What if I can’t graduate? What if I die alone?” The natural foundations surrounding this campus provide an escape from all that stress. In the middle of the woods, there is nothing but forever. There is no time, there are no deadlines, only complete spiritual calm. In the week that has followed, I’ve attempted to apply elements of that experience to my college life: stopping every now and again to look up and take in the natural beauty that solidified my commitment to this campus a year ago.
--Kristin

1 comment:

Lya Sorano said...

A few days ago, I was at the Len Foote Hike Inn, above Amicalola Falls - such a beautiful place! That whole area, in fact, is so peaceful and inspirational that one should go there as often as possible. My previous stays at the Hike Inn were in the late fall or early winter; it's quite a different experience in spring, when everything is so very, very green and fresh. There are pictures on my gardening blog: http://georgiagardener.blogspot.com/