As I stood at the edge of Wyoming's Wind River Wilderness with a forty-pound, hand-me-down red Gregory backpack, I was at war. I was at war with my potential, with my body, and with my mind. I had a broken knee and would spend most days in bed watching movies I’d seen before, feeling sorrow about the world, humanity, and my own life being finite.
At night, I started watching a YouTube channel called Vlogbrothers. It was a half-serious channel where two of my favorite authors, John and Hank Green, would make four-ish-minute videos once a week: John's on Tuesday and Hank's on Friday. They’d explore big ideas and whatever else they were thinking about lately. Most videos concerned topics of substance: religion, political issues, and my favorite, the fact that the world will end.
The night before I left for my backpacking trip, I was watching a John Tuesday video when he said, “We don’t live in the Grand Scheme of things, we just live in the scheme."
When I first thought about this idea I was angry. We should just ignore the big picture and live unremarkably awaiting death? I was appalled that even one of the greatest minds alive seemed unbothered by the fact that everything he knows will be gone someday. I felt isolated; I thought I was the only one in the world who could think deeply enough to be scared of death.
When I got to camp, I was in withdrawal. I longed for my days rotting in bed, reading the same comforting poetry over and over. But I wasn’t in my bed, and I didn’t have my poetry, so instead I thought. I thought about what Mr. Green said and I realized he was right. He didn’t say to ignore the big scary ideas; he said that is not the level of concern we live in. We don't need to ponder the nature of existence because there are simpler but more fulfilling tasks to do.
As I set off on the trail, I had a mission to spend the trip trying not to ponder and grieve things that are still right in front of me. I planned to live in the moment and simply be and do the things I had to be and do.
The Wind River Wilderness provided the ideal opportunity to either sink or swim with this mission. The endless stars that I gazed at each night tempted me to wonder and spiral, but the walking, cooking, and chores that always needed doing grounded me and reminded me that I don't have to worry about the stars because I live on Earth. I was free to lose myself in the stars, but instead I enjoyed the shock of swimming in an ice-cold river after an eight-mile day, preparing oatmeal for the fifth day in a row, and the idle bantering with new friends while huddled up in wool hats. These days taught me that the world isn't ending yet; we have to be curious and work and feel and live before it does end.
So, after spending two weeks in the middle of nowhere, I learned that I’m not the smartest person ever, and that my concerns can be of today and not doomsday. Like my favorite literary figure, Herman Hesse's Siddhartha, I crossed the Wind River guided by a ferryman and an experience that helped me find joy in “living in the scheme.” I am confident and willing for these lessons to continue to guide me as I move forward in making the most of my college experience.