Agnosthesia

    Language is inherently imperfect. There are always some emotions and feelings that cannot be conveyed purely through language. Thousands of ways to communicate around the world and each of them has words or sounds that describe an idea that isn't possible to describe in another. What we cannot convey using language, we convey using art.

    To be frank, I don't understand art in itself. It has always been a mystery to me. And I do realize that art can be almost anything; people with amazing skill in drawing, painting, singing, playing musical instruments, writing books and reciting poems... Yet I practice art everyday, either by cooking a thoughtful meal or by making someone laugh, and I still do not understand it, I have no idea why people like certain things. Why I like certain things.

AGNOSTHESIA

    Agnosthesia... Not knowing how you feel about something. Trying to understand yourself and your likes from an outside perspective seems very shallow. Is that selfie from Grand Canyon for clout?

    I struggle with this since I can remember. Yes, there are some things I am naturally drawn to, dare I say preprogrammed by nature and biology. There are some things I like based on my upbringing, like the love for football (soccer, piłka nożna, futbol), interest in motorcycles and anything mechanical really, history of the world and other people, science in general... Yet sometimes I cant tell if I actually enjoy the things I do for fun. The world has placed so much pressure on just existing that it is hard for me to tell whether I like something or whether I just do it because it is convenient and a cheap way to stop my brain from overthinking, Isn't it all just a form of escapism anyways?

    Walking. Hiking. Traversing. Exploring. Sightseeing. Awe. Nature. Mountains. Rivers. Lakes. Trees. Mushrooms. Meadows. Waterfalls. Trails. Canyons. Deserts. Seas. Oceans. Motorcycling. Driving. Flying. I am most certain I enjoy any of those more than anything in my life.

    Still, I hide inside so often, preferring idealized idea of comfort to win every battle. Instead of hiking, watch someone hike. Instead of driving, play a driving video game. Low commitment. I can always stop. I can always turn the game off and crawl into my own bed. Can't do that 50 miles away from home. So do I enjoy those things? I am unsure if I do. If only in those specific instances, when everything aligns do I truly appreciate these adventures? 

    I look back at the pictures, trying to remember how I felt. The awe of approaching the edge of the Grand Canyon for the first time. 

    It's quite brisk and windy and there aren't many people here yet. Been up since 3:00, I am now filled with excitement, though a bit stiff from the 4 hour drive and still a little groggy. The second cup of coffee doing its best to keep my eyes open. I grab my backpack and head towards Mather Point. I expect to be there just for a second, it's already 8:30 and even though it's October, this place gets crowded really quick.

    The walk only made my excitement build up. Some deer are munching on the grass, heading away from the parking lot, expecting more people to show up. The wind picks up and I realize I'll be cold for the next few hours until it truly warms up. My pace picks up as I see the opening in the trees and I get closer to my destination... It's there.

    I'm not quite sure how to describe it. Language isn't good enough to convey what kind of feelings and emotions stirred up inside me when I saw this giant hole. It did not compute. Seemed unreal, like realizing life is a simulation. Seemed somehow fake... It couldn't exist in the real world, could it?

    Documentaries, pictures, stories, articles. Nothing prepared me for this. Awe. The same awe you have as a child. The nostalgia feeling that isn't truly a nostalgic feeling at all. The sense of wonder and the feeling of accomplishment that fills you is intense. But then it hit me... It's just the first sight. I have hours and hours to be here. Hours to let this fill my heart and memories.

     Hours of hiking. As much as I enjoy solitude, it really made me happy to see how easily accessible this place is to those with disabilities. The paved and easy to access paths soon moved way to dirt trails, where the intensifying crowd began to fade into solitude. Wonderful solitude.

    As the air grew hotter and the wind calmed, it was mesmerizing just to walk next to the Canyon. Whenever tired, the urge was not to stop, but to continue despite the discomfort. Sit down, take a few bites of the granola bar. Don't even think about turning around yet. Let the landscape fill you. Let it inspire you. Let it consume you.