His sun

I have always been a big fan of Chris McCandless. It got to the point where I was so used to worshipping him, that I had lost the reason why. That was until a couple weeks ago when I found a journal I kept freshman in which I had written the following quote:

"So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.” -Chris McCandless

And then it was back. I can again give a reason to the annotated copies of "Into the Wild", to the hours of Eddie Vedder on repeat. My idol means something to me again, more than my go to answer on Common App questions. Now, I can't stop thinking about him. I am on a transcendental high and I hope I never come down.

Alexander Supertramp. My boy.

He donated every penny he earned to something he believed in, set his car on fire, and walked into a land completely unknown. He told no one; he wanted no attention, no credit for the path he was treading. And quite a path he did tread. The places he saw and the level to which he admired them is awe-striking. You would think after miles of forest, a tree would be just a tree. But Chris treated everything he saw as a new, gracefully given gift. Even for the months he spent working on the same farm, he constantly moved his bed, as if waking up to the same scene twice was wrong. Each day a new sun.

When I open my eyes tomorrow, I be surrounded by the same, maroon walls that have enclosed me in for the past 17 years. I rarely drive more than twenty minutes in any direction, let alone walk. I know one sun. And for that, I insist that I have only lived one day.

But soon, I will follow Chris's journey (number 24 on my bucket list) and then I will have more days. I will track down every public bench he slept on, every highway he hiked along, every bar he sat in the back of just to sit in the back of. I will wake up where he woke up, each day a new sun. Each day his sun.

Sure, Chris died young. But he died having known more days, more new and beautiful suns, than most of us can comprehend. And for that, I strive to live a life as full as his.