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Posted: October 17th, 2007 at 12:39am By: Rev. Rebecca Schlatter
Nevada's first recorded permanent settlement is Genoa, a little town in the Carson Valley south of Reno, dating back to 1850. Its picturesque location caught my imagination, huddled at the "foot" of the mountains just where the slope angles upward abruptly — it nestles right into the ankle bend.
Like much of the Nevada landscape, Genoa evoked memories of the pioneer histories and novels I read as a girl. I could picture the wagon trains struggling westward over Nevada, which I knew from relief maps to be covered with one mountain range after another, running parallel from north to south. And I could imagine, after wearily descending one range and crossing the Carson Valley to meet yet another range, one stubborn, worn-out traveler announced, "I am not climbing one more bloody mountain. We settle right here."
Voila: Nevada's first recorded permanent settlement.
I wanted this story to be true, because I could totally relate from my own spiritual journey. Each time I've worked hard to climb a mountain — say, a new level of humility or compassion or vulnerability or healing — it has never marked the end of the journey. Eventually, and sometimes immediately, another mountain range appears. The answer to "Are we there yet?" has never been a recorded permanent "Yes."
On a good day, I see the climb as a so-called growth opportunity. On a bad day, I see it as a hurdle preventing me from reaching perfection — inner peace, self-realization, salvation — whatever words fit best. On those days, the landscape wherever I am looks just fine, thank you. No more bloody mountains: "I'll stay right here."
As it turns out, the Overland Emigrant Trail did pass through Genoa, but of course, the location was not chosen out of stubborn fatigue. In fact, it's hard to say exactly who "chose" it. Before it was a settlement, it was a trading post, but even before that, explorers and trappers had passed through, according to the town's website.
Perhaps that history, rather than my own projected story, is a more reliable understanding of my own spiritual journey as well. There, too, I am never the first person to pass through a territory or climb a mountain. Others have been there before me, and even now other travelers are struggling to make it over resentment or climb past regret.
I am not a pioneer after all, even in those experiences that feel painfully unique and lonely. From the ancients to the mystics to our next-door neighbors, by virtue of our shared humanness, we share some spiritual topography too.
So, wherever we find ourselves on our spiritual journeys, it can help to know that others have covered this ground before us. Whether we settle in one place for long or just pass through this trading post on our way to the next mountain range, there is refreshment to be found and stories to trade in the community of our fellow travelers.
— — —
Rev. Rebecca Schlatter is an ordained minister in the Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Reno, Nevada. You can contact her at {email newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com}newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Rebecca Schlatter.
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Nevada's first recorded permanent settlement is Genoa, a little town in the Carson Valley south of Reno, dating back to 1850. Its picturesque location caught my imagination, huddled at the "foot" of the mountains just where the slope angles upward abruptly — it nestles right into the ankle bend.
Like much of the Nevada landscape, Genoa evoked memories of the pioneer histories and novels I read as a girl. I could picture the wagon trains struggling westward over Nevada, which I knew from relief maps to be covered with one mountain range after another, running parallel from north to south. And I could imagine, after wearily descending one range and crossing the Carson Valley to meet yet another range, one stubborn, worn-out traveler announced, "I am not climbing one more bloody mountain. We settle right here."
Voila: Nevada's first recorded permanent settlement.
I wanted this story to be true, because I could totally relate from my own spiritual journey. Each time I've worked hard to climb a mountain — say, a new level of humility or compassion or vulnerability or healing — it has never marked the end of the journey. Eventually, and sometimes immediately, another mountain range appears. The answer to "Are we there yet?" has never been a recorded permanent "Yes."
On a good day, I see the climb as a so-called growth opportunity. On a bad day, I see it as a hurdle preventing me from reaching perfection — inner peace, self-realization, salvation — whatever words fit best. On those days, the landscape wherever I am looks just fine, thank you. No more bloody mountains: "I'll stay right here."
As it turns out, the Overland Emigrant Trail did pass through Genoa, but of course, the location was not chosen out of stubborn fatigue. In fact, it's hard to say exactly who "chose" it. Before it was a settlement, it was a trading post, but even before that, explorers and trappers had passed through, according to the town's website.
Perhaps that history, rather than my own projected story, is a more reliable understanding of my own spiritual journey as well. There, too, I am never the first person to pass through a territory or climb a mountain. Others have been there before me, and even now other travelers are struggling to make it over resentment or climb past regret.
I am not a pioneer after all, even in those experiences that feel painfully unique and lonely. From the ancients to the mystics to our next-door neighbors, by virtue of our shared humanness, we share some spiritual topography too.
So, wherever we find ourselves on our spiritual journeys, it can help to know that others have covered this ground before us. Whether we settle in one place for long or just pass through this trading post on our way to the next mountain range, there is refreshment to be found and stories to trade in the community of our fellow travelers.
— — —
Rev. Rebecca Schlatter is an ordained minister in the Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Reno, Nevada. You can contact her at {email newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com}newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Rebecca Schlatter.
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