Here are a very few words on how to achieve a transcendental experience in nature.
First, get yourself alone on the water or mountain or hill, or wherever: “alone on the water.” Now, you don’t have to be totally alone. Notice that I switch to the plural “our” later on in the poem. Becky was with me for this one.
Then, as the band Boston used to sing, “let your memory slip and think of nothing at all.” The distractions disappear, behind the kayak, behind you. Get out of the wind and current, but think of nothing at all.
The rain, the wind, whatever are nothing at all.
If you’re lucky, nature kicks in: the eagle over our heads, or whatever.
Or maybe not.
At this point, memories recede, but they persist.
And that’s all you need.
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