I’m three and half hours into a four hour hike.  Miles ago, I left behind any traces of concrete corners and signage.  It took a great deal of effort and an early start, but I am finally walking in Thoreau’s America.

It is quiet and sunny.  I’ve been passing huge clusters of Aster and Paintbrush, heavy with purple and red blooms.  The Ponderosas and sandstone cliffs tower above me, and I am, finally, feeling small in the grand scheme of things.  Losing a bit of my own self-importance is the reason I’ve come.  It helps me put life in perspective.

Straight ahead is a narrow slot canyon, for which I must be literally small, if I’m going to successfully wedge myself into and through it.  I do.  In a rebirth kind of way, I pop out the other side.

And there it is.

Some tool named Dean has carved an upside-down cross and the words, “Dean Was Here,” into the cliff face.  The message is a good two feet high and at least two inches deep.  Dean had obviously hiked this same remote route, viewed the same grandeur and was then inspired to spend the next 10 hours carving his name into the landscape.  I disliked him instantly.  

I fully understand Dean’s desire to leave his mark on this planet.

Don’t get me wrong; I fully understand Dean’s desire to leave his mark on this planet.  I, too, have felt the compulsion to get busy  and get some sort of legacy going, some tangible sort of proof that I existed and mattered.  It is human, I believe, to want to defy mortality in some way.

I would, however, like to offer a couple suggestions for less tool-like ways to accomplish this end.

Less tool-like options

Dean (whom I’ve appointed spokesperson and amalgam for all those like him) might consider making some sort of contribution in the arts or sciences.  It will require study and vision and practice, unlike defacing a national treasure, but thousands of deceased writers and painters and composers and scientists are still with us, in very real and meaningful ways.  And will continue to remain so. 

Perhaps Dean could procreate and raise truly decent and self-actualized children, who enrich the lives of others.  He could simply be a good husband or partner, a good neighbor and friend.  He could put in an honest day’s labor, each and every day of his working life and contribute to the healthy functioning of a society which needs us all.

He could love well and often.  He could be a beacon of tolerance and kindness.  He could pass on a recipe for some really good chocolate cake.  

There are a thousand ways to leave a lasting imprint and nearly all the best ways involve less “self” and more complexity than carving one’s name in sandstone.

Be the anti-Dean

The Deans of this world can decide, today, to be the ones who pick up the Budweiser cans and WalMart bags, rather than being the ones who leave them behind.  They can decide to be the ones who pour the sidewalks, rather than the ones who press their palms in the fresh cement.  Instead of picking up cans of spray paint and tagging the local community center, they can choose to be the ones who volunteer inside.  

The loudest way for Dean to proclaim, “I Was Here,” may be to just sit quietly, on the other side of a beautiful slot canyon and take inventory of the number of people he’s made smile today.  And then he can vow to increase that number tomorrow, by at least one.

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