JohnWaller

A common denominator in all the Moving Mountain programs for the past two years has been “the work” of collectively and individually overcoming cancer against the backdrop of a spectacular natural landscape. I believe the capacity of wild nature to permeate us with wisdom and healing from mental, emotional or physical trauma cannot be understated.

As a filmmaker and photographer with Moving Mountains since its inaugural climb of Kilimanjaro, I’ve sweat and struggled alongside many remarkable humans who have had multiple myeloma touch their lives. I am struck by many describing cancer as “a gift” because it was the catalyst for dramatic shifts in priority and perspective… the diagnosis, while devastating, has also been the source of incredible hope, love, potential, and alignment. The gift for many has been the embrace of these new opportunities to course correct in life. Another part of this gift has been the reveal of a path to experience wild raw nature.

While the destinations for Moving Mountains have been exceptional in their reverence, the parts of the sum are the same sunrises, sunsets, rain, rocks, air, wind, and night skies that are familiar and accessible to most of us. No one destination has a monopoly on the nature we crave. I have been witness to Kathleen Kaufman raising her arms to a sunrise over the Grand Canyon on her birthday, and Gary Rudman watching the sunrise at 18,000 feet on Mt Kilimanjaro through teary and determined eyes. Take away the name of the place, and what you have is a raw and vulnerable human having an intimate and transformative connection with nature.

Impossible layers of rock, exhilarating starry nights, the sensation of rain and icy winds…all remind us of the magic in our world that is so far beyond our control, or our understanding. The Moving Mountains program dismantles the walls between our comfortable lives and the comfort that nature can embrace us with. All of us are shifted and affected. I’ve seen a seasoned guide weep and pray at the Kilimanjaro summit on his knees, and I’ve surrendered to sobbing on the same summit as I reached out to touch the blue ice walls of a glacier.

I see these encounters with light, ice, plants, animals, and rock as being just as relevant and emotional as the intimacy and comfort of our climbing tribe…in fact, I consider wild nature to be one of our essential companions on the journey. It’s not every day that we have the opportunity to so closely share in conversation with nature. It can be uncomfortable at times…heaving lungs in thin air, frozen fingers, trails that wind up through immense landscapes. Like a diagnosis of cancer, the superficial small talk is substituted with a real dialog about how and why to proceed, and for all of us that is a remarkable gift.