The Art of Being Alone by Valerie Kearley

In this group, we spend just about every minute we’re awake together, and silence is impossible to achieve. When a solo hike out of the mountains was proposed on our final day in the Big Snowies, I was a little nervous but excited for the aspect of being alone. Located in central Montana, just south of Lewistown, the Big Snowy Mountains stand over 8,000 feet high. These magnificent mountains are something of a marvel. For most of our journey up the drainage, we were encompassed by white limestone cliffs, buried in green forestry accented by yellowing aspens and cottonwoods, and comforted by beds of mossy ground as we slept. This section of the Lewis and Clark National Forest quickly became something very dear to me.

“Don’t leave the mountains before leaving the mountains,” Dave said. He explained that this meant to not mentally leave the mountains before you physically leave the mountains. These words really sat with me because I had been doing just that. I had been thinking of how nice a warm shower was going to be, what laundry I had to do when we got back to the frontcountry, what food I was looking forward to eating. Beyond that, I was thinking about home and how much I missed my loved ones and what it will be like to return to them in a month. I needed to hear those wise words from Dave. More than that, I needed to practice those words.

We walked solo for about 15 minutes. Being by myself was odd for the first 5 minutes. Being alone has become a near foreign concept. I spent that time singing or talking to myself. I was not used to the only sound of footsteps being mine, the only voice I heard being mine; it was a little uncomfortable at first. Then I stopped for a moment. The sounds of nature spoke up as I got quieter. The snow was melting and dripping off of the branches and leaves of trees. The creek was rushing. Birds were singing. Red squirrels were chasing each other around. Then, I realized I would rather hear the song of nature than the song I was signing. The final ten minutes of that hike was the most peace I had experienced on the whole course thus far.

When we all caught up to each other, we collectively decided to continue on solo, this time for an hour. It seemed I was not the only one who enjoyed the alone time. So, every few minutes, one by one, we left our initial gathering spot to embark on the second part of the solo hike out of the Big Snowies.

I was able to reflect on my time on this course, check in with myself and check in with the natural world around me. The melting of the snow reminded me to let my inner stresses melt away too. I was able to heal. I was able to find strength and leave things behind. For just a moment, I was not worried about readings or assignments I needed to do, I stopped making a mental to-do list. I let myself just be with the natural world. Wise words reminded me how being in nature can quiet your mind. It forces you to be present in that moment and be mindful of what is going on around you. But only if you let it. It’s the energy that nature provides that you can just absorb. It’s something I know is bigger than myself, than all of us.

Now, I was noticing more. I realized how I was looking up more. I saw the sun rays beaming down through the trees and causing the snow to sublimate, the steam highlighting the beams even more. The creek that was dried on our way in now had a gentle flow from the melting snow. Everything was alive. Maybe I was looking up more because I was less afraid to trip and fall in front of others. More likely because when I looked up, there wasn’t anyone in front of me. There was no one to look past. I could see everything uninterrupted.

One of the greatest things I noticed while on the solo hike was the strengthening of my feelings of self-efficacy. I was no longer dependent on those around me. Even though the next person was a few minutes in front or behind me, I pretended it was just me out there. I began to feel like backpacking, especially in the Big Snowies, was something I could do by myself. 

That hour alone flew by and the solo hike ended much sooner than I wanted it to, but I learned a lot. I discovered the value of being alone with myself and with my thoughts. It opened me up to the ability to heal in nature and observe more of the marvelous melting mountains. A piece of me will always remain in the Big Snowies but I will take with me the confidence I gained, the reminder to look up more, and the sense that, no matter what, nature can and will heal.