The year is 2019. It’s been a minute. Life has
unraveled and reraveled a dozen times since I last
shared. How many times have I sat down to write?
But unable to determine where to start, how to end
and what mattered in between, I gave up and found
other things to occupy my brain. Now, looking back
at my last hike and reading through my diary of my
time on the trail, I feel both completely connected to
that girl, like it was yesterday...and so far from her
that I almost feel ashamed. Some magic happened
out there among the trees, and I fear I let the “real
world” reclaim me to the point that lessons were lost
and that time feels like a movie I watched years ago.
That is not to say life hasn’t been good. I have been
happy and immersed in building new things and
feeling new things and learning new things. But the
clarity I was coming into as I spent all that time alone
in the woods has turned into perpetual fog. I have
moved forward, but without the trail leading me, it’s
been a sloppy path.
I have continued to feel the draw of nature even
during my hiking sabbatical. But not the kind of
nature that just being outside brings you, nothing a
walk at lunch could fulfill. I have craved the
absence of man made things...the deep woods where you cannot hear a passing car or see roads and
buildings and sidewalks. I’ve made do with early
morning runs on gravel roads in rural areas. These
moments have been my mini-sanctuaries. I have
always found my soul’s home to be in that simple
ray of sunlight peeking through the trees the way it
does in the morning. That’s what makes me slow
down, let go, just occupying a contented space. But those brief interludes where just that...brief.
The things I have to do creep back in. A text from work. A call from my kids. Someone, somewhere needs
some energy too. We all exist in this energy
economy - all takers and givers. The wisest among us knowing how and when to recharge their stores. And so I leave my holy land and return to my tribe and
take my place among the givers and takers. Playing my part as best I can. We all do it.
But I know a secret. We don’t actually have to do any of this. We can choose differently. Certainly no one
will ever tell you this. I don’t know about you, but my boss has never walked up to me and said, “you look
like you need to recharge your batteries. How about
you go hike for a couple of weeks? The fresh air will actually make you better at your work. Now get out of here! Oh, and go completely guilt free, would ya?”
And to be fair, I have not done enough of this for the people in my life either. It has been my experience
that the things we allow to draw energy from us will
continue to do so as long as we let them. This isn’t
out of malice, it’s simply human nature. We are all so
focused on our own experiences that we rarely want
to give anything up...even if the thing we give up
could allow someone important to us to replenish
their energy. Or maybe it’s the fear they won’t return
to us? That’s all beyond me - but what I do know is,
unless your world exposes you to some pretty enlightened people, it’s on us to make the change we need. We can make a different choice.
I have been dipping my toes into this different way of being for years now via these long walks through the
woods. I can’t share the exact route to “freedom” yet - but I hope I can someday. Right now, all I can offer
is a seat in my brain as I run these little experiments.
All this is to say - in just a couple of days I will be
heading out to hike the John Muir Trail in California.
Spanning from Yosemite to Mt. Whitney, it’s a 200+
mile trek through some of the most beautiful scenery - things only those willing to walk for 15-20 days
while carrying all they need to survive - will ever get
to see.
This trip will bring in a few new elements to my hiking experience. Grizzly bears: no longer the kind, gentle
black bears that have done a pretty great job of
terrifying me. These guys mean business. Altitude:
hiking above 8,000 feet and reaching points as high as 14,000 feet brings a whole new opportunity to
throw up. And most notably, my husband of 2 years:
who has never backpacked before. If you’ve been a
reader of this blog, you know I wasn’t exactly killing it without these new challenges (and yes, I am currently considering my husband a challenge. He find this
wildly flattering), so this should be fun, right?
I’m actually really excited to see what this adventure has in store for us. More to come! And to my friends who are suggesting this has all the makings of a
future Dateline special...I completely agree.
