The Peaks of Experience: Mountaineering, the Mountains

All too often people forget that spirituality is essentially a way of life and that its measure does not consist of notions, theories, and ideas that have been stored in one’s head. Spirituality is actually what has been successfully actualized and translated into a sense of superiority which is experienced inside by the soul, and a noble demeanor, which is expressed in the body. From this perspective it is possible to appreciate a discipline which, although it may concern the energies of the body, will not begin and end with them but will become instead the means to awakening a living and organic spirituality. This is the discipline of a superior inner character. In the ascetic, such a discipline is present in a negative way, so to speak; in the hero it is present in a positive, affirmative way, typical of the Western world. The inner victory against the deepest forces that surface in one’s consciousness during times of tension and mortal danger is a triumph in an external sense, but it is also the sign of a victory of the spirit against itself and of an inner transfiguration. Hence, in antiquity an aura of sacredness surrounded both the hero and the initiate to a religious or esoteric movement, and heroic figures were regarded as symbols of immortality. However, in modern civilization everything tends to suffocate the heroic sense of life. Everything is more or less mechanized, spiritually impoverished, and reduced to a prudent and regulated association of beings who are needy and have lost their self-suffiency. The contact between man’s deep and free powers and the powers of things and of nature has been cut off; metropolitan life petrifies everything, syncopates every breath, and contaminates every spiritual “well.” As if that weren’t enough, faint-hearted ideologies foster contempt for those values that in other times were the foundation of more rational and bright social organizations. In ancient societies the peak of the hierarchy was occupied by the caste of warrior aristocracy, whereas today, in the pacifist-humanitarian utopias (especially in the Anglo-Saxon ones), attempts are made to portray the warrior as some kind of anachronism, and as a dangerous and harmful entity that one day will be conveniently disposed of in the name of progress. Once it is suffocated, the heroic will seek further outlets outside the net of practical interests, passions, and yearnings, and that net becomes tighter and tighter with the passing of time: the excitement that sports induce in our contemporaries is just an expression of this. But the heroic will need to be made self-aware again and to move beyond the limits of materialism. In the struggle against mountain heights, action is finally free from all machines, and from everything that detracts from man’s direct and absolute relationship with things. Up close to the sky and to crevasses—among the still and silent greatness of the peaks; in the impetuous raging winds and snowstorms; among the dazzling brightness of glaciers; or among the fierce, hopeless verticality of rock faces—it is possible to reawaken (through what may at first appear to be the mere employment of the body) the symbol of overcoming, a truly spiritual and virile light, and make contact with primordial forces locked within the body’s limbs. In this way the climber’s struggle will be more than physical and the successful climb may come to represent the achievement of something that is no longer merely human. In ancient mythologies the mountain peaks were regarded as the seats of the gods; this is myth, but it is also the allegorical expression of a real belief that may always come alive again sub specie interioritatis. In life—as has been pointed out, since Nietzsche, by Simmel—humans have a strange and almost incredible power to reach certain existential peaks at which “living more” (mehr leben), or the highest intensity of life, is transformed into “more than living” (mehr als leben). At these peaks, just as heat transforms into light, life becomes free of itself; not in the sense of the death of individuality or some kind of mystical shipwreck, but in the sense of a transcendent affirmation of life, in which anxiety, endless craving, yearning and worrying, the quest for religious faith, human supports and goals, all give way to a dominating state of calm. There is something greater than life, within life itself, and not outside of it. This heroic experience is valuable and good in itself, whereas ordinary life is only driven by interests, external things, and human conventions. I use the word experience, because this state is not connected with any particular creed or theory (which are always worthless and relative); rather it presents itself in a most direct and undoubtable way, just like the experiences of pain and pleasure.”

—Julius Evola, Meditation On The Peaks, pt. 1: Doctrine, ch. 1, The Mountain