Mountains seem to answer an increasing imaginative need in the West. More people are discovering a desire for them, and a powerful solace in them. At the bottom, mountains, like all wildernesses, challenge our complacent conviction – so easy to lapse into – that the world has been made for humans by humans.

Most of us exist for most of the time in worlds which are humanly arranged, themed and controlled. One forgets that there are environments which do not respond to the flick of a switch or the twist of a dial, and which have their own rhythms and orders of existence. Mountains correct this amnesia.

By speaking of greater forces than we can possibly invoke, and by confronting us with greater spans of time than we can possibly envisage, mountains refute our excessive trust in the man-made. They pose profound questions about our durability and the importance of our schemes. They induce, I suppose, a modesty in us.

– Robert MacFarlane

We experience life in terms of changes, we feel diminishing sensitivity to both gains and losses, but losses sting more than equivalently sized gains feel good.

This particular sentence in the book struck me. It says,

We talked about luck, the hold it had over a child’s life – what he is born into, whether he is loved, and how intelligently. After a pause Miranda said “and when it’s all against him, whether someone can rescue him”.

Some years ago, my eyes locked onto a bus stop advertisement. It was a clear inoffensive statement.

As someone who forgets their own birthday, there was no chance I’d remember the ad for later. I ended up spending ages googling what I thought I read, without much luck.

Years later, I stumbled across it again 🙂

In a society that profits from your self doubt, liking yourself is a rebellious act.

Caroline Caldwell