The Inside Passage

Just back from the "dream" vacation: I took an Alaska cruise with a small group of friends and family. So many people have raved to me about the amazing scenery and wildlife in the far north country that I decided to take the plunge...literally (almost) into the icy waters due north. Of course, it wasn't lost on me that if you want to see Alaska in a pristine state, you need to move quickly...in case our dear friend John McCain gets elected. Ok, that's for another blog.

So let me share with you a bit of my experience. The highlights: Amazing views of slow melting glaciers (kind of like watching the hairline of the planet recede), huge pink salmon running in the wrong direction (against the current!)in search of spawning holes, a flock of bald eagles eagerly eyeing the unsuspecting salmon from above (whoever said that eagles don't flock has never been to Alaska!), and many small fishing/tourist towns that seem to pop up in 3d right out of 19th century gold rush days. It was a great trip and I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to see some of the fast disappearing wilderness that stretches across the northern reaches of the continent.

What's really striking however, about taking a cruise to Alaska, is the stark contrast between the "boat ride" (understatement of the century)itself and the meandering sojourn it takes up through Glacier Bay, otherwise known as the "Inside Passage". For me, the journey through unspoiled vistas of nature at her finest prompted a deep longing for solitude, repose, and inner reflection, laced with a constant flow of gratitude--gratitude for the awesome beauty of the place, the majestic serenity and power of nature. Yet, at the same time, I found myself confronted--more like assaulted--with daily reminders of how far away from the gentle rhythms of nature we have come in our pursuit of material comforts, entertainments, and endless distraction. With over 3000 of my closest pals--at least as members of the same species!--surrounding me at every bend in the tide, I was shocked to see just how little most people cared about the Alaska in which we were duly enveloped. What was on the minds of most people? Well, let's see, there was eating, eating and more eating. There was gambling, and bingo, and bad Broadway knock-offs (otherwise known as "entertainment"). There were abundant swimming pools, hot tubs, shuffle board games, and, of course, a cocktail lounge strategically perched on every corner. To top it all off, this wondrous sailing city even had its very own bowling alley, replete with Titanic style over-the-top appointments and neon lighting (so one could indulge in bowling twenty-four hours a day!). Gee, golly wow.

So here we are, thousands of miles away from anywhere one might recognize in the lower forty-eight, surrounded by bears, and eagles and salmon and pristine blue glacial waters for as far as the eye could see, and what do we modernistas focus on: stuffing ourselves, drinking and gambling, with a little bowling through in for good measure.

Now, I'm sure that many who read this will think of me as a bit of a spoil sport regarding the wonders of "cruising" (which is what the aficionados of the big boat vacation call it), but the truth is, I'm not really down on cocktail binging, buffet-style gluttony or even late night neon bowling parties, all of which seem perfectly apt in places like Las Vegas (why else would one head purposely into the middle of the desert?). No, I have to admit that I enjoyed all the splendorous and overly abundant food, drinks and distractions readily available at all hours of the day and night. I just couldn't help but wonder why being in the Inside Passage didn't lead more people on a journey towards their own inside passage: reflecting on the awesome balance of nature, the interconnectedness of humanity and wilderness, and most clearly, how we humans are truly a tiny blip on the radar screen of a planet in peril. The experience was, in a word: humbling.

Perhaps it is just this sense of our insignificance that leads many of us to seek the distractions of endless external pleasure as a way to drown out the truth: nature is magnificent, powerful and generally unconcerned with our momentary visit on this planet. Yet, for me, the experience of a profound humility in the face of majestic scope of nature, was deeply moving, calming, and comforting. In moments of deep reverence, I could truly understand how we were simply gliding along a major, unclogged highway on the circulating system that is the body of Mother Earth. She is very much alive and we are on the Inside Passage--as temporary visitors--all the time.

I hope to one day go back. On a smaller vessel, maybe one with fewer late-nite buffets, and sans twenty-four hour cable TV, bingo, and black jack. In my heart of hearts I long to step out of that alienated, abandoned energy that permeates what we ironically call "civilization"--to step off the spinning wheel of distraction long enough to truly drink in the calm, azure icy waters that run through the veins of the earth.

If you get a chance to sojourn through your own "Inside Passage" -- whether in Alaska or in your own heart, let me know.

Happy Cruising!

Dr J