This whole thing is becoming a mental exercise. For years I have been reading about the Appalachian Trail and it began to take on a a mythic feel. It was always something that someone else did, but was out of reach for the average person. Granted most of these accounts are thru-hikes, where some desperate soul walks the 2000 plus miles in one long journey. That remains out of reach for me, I have serious doubts that I could maintain the mental stamina required to pull that off. No matter the length, tackling any portion of the AT always seemed to be the domain of some other type of person.
Which is utter nonsense; every hiker I have met is an individual and to typecast any of them is a gross disservice. I have no doubt I will run into everybody from elderly couples, to young college kids, to middle-aged businessmen, and everything in between. There is no "type", but there is a common thread. At some point each person made the decision to do it.
I can assume that the vast majority of people never even ask the question. Of the remaining percentage, only a small percentage of them take that first step. In that decision comes questions about fitness, mobility, means, availability, and other factors that come into play. I am lucky in that I have the baseline fitness, financial means and availability to pull this off without having to make massive accommodations. The biggest effort was making the commitment and that meant getting past the fear. Yes, fear. That coming from a person who spent 20 years as a firefighter, rides motorcycles, flies small planes and solo hikes. So it was, and remains, more of a mental challenge than a physical one. That no doubt will reverse when I get to my first day long uphill hike and my body runs out of steam -- but the experts would say that is mental too. If I don't take on each day knowing I can do it, I am setting myself up to NOT be able to do it. Self-fulfilling prophecy, or whatever you want to call it.
I have found the best way to conquer fear is to decide to tackle it head on. At some point you just shrug and say "OK". Bear in mind this is not bowel-quivering, adrenaline rush fear, no, this is more the nagging voice of self-doubt that accompanies this kind of adventure. Can I walk for 14 miles on day 5? Can I carry 10 pounds of food? Will I be able to manage the heat or the cold? Will I take a tumble and hurt myself? Honestly I could go on and on with those nagging self doubts, but inevitably the answer is "yes". I have years of camping and backpacking experience, top notch almost ultralight equipment, a great team of people I trust, and the gift of a body that has the capability to absorb a lot of punishment before it fights back.
The other way to conquer self-doubt is to prepare. I have hiked longer and harder than ever before this past few months. Given three month's notice, I launched myself into this thing with great vigor and have noticed extreme benefits. Hills that used to leave me gasping for air now barely raise my heart rate. To date I have lost 37 pounds. I feel confident yet not over-confident and though I am smart enough to listen to my inner voice of self-doubt, I am also prepped with a counter-argument and a plan.
This past weekend Laura and I tackled two different trails for a total of about 11 miles. Squeezed in between other activities and the inevitable housework that accompanies the weekend, we did these miles in about 4 to 4.5 hours. What made this significant was heat ... like much of the country, we were experiencing mid-90 degree days. Despite that, we set a good pace and rolled through these hikes with no problem. That gives me a good indication we are close to being ready to go. I doubt we'll experience much hotter ... at least I hope not. But at least now I can remind my inner voice of self-doubt that I already tackled two different high heat and humidity hikes and was not much the worse for wear.
I promote this AT trip as a "life-changing event". I have caught some heat for that, with suggestions that I wait and see what this trip means to me after it is over. A few problems with that ... as a writer I need to keep my eye on the ball for the duration and that means capturing these events and thoughts as they occur. That way if I come off the mountain a changed man I will have my notes in place already. The really important thing, though, is that the actual trip is just a part of the journey. The physical results I have already achieved are already life-changing. Other things are changing, too.
When you Reboot because Office stops working, well, everything else gets a fresh start too. You can't truly Reboot without starting everything fresh. You may not load the same programs ... you have the option to Select Adventure. This blog is about a hiking trip, but Reboot, Select Adventure is about much more than a single trip. It's about creating life-changing adventures and having the courage to look life in the eye and deciding to tackle it straight on.
Notice the word choice: Deciding. It's a mental thing ... be it work, play, life, or love, everything starts with a decision. An adventure like this where you push your boundaries and accomplish things that are way outside the norm gives you a great place to look at everything with a fresh perspective. When I am done with this trip I will be one of those people who took on the AT, if only a portion. I will have hiked a lot of miles, missed a lot of showers, slept in cars and tents and shelters, and ground my way on foot to a goal. That is when the hard work begins ... taking the best of the old and combining it with the new and making sure that when this is done I didn't just Reboot but I also decide to hit Select Adventure every day.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Wildcat vs Hikers: The Tiebreaker
The nine hikers that started out on a Friday night had endured cold, wet, bad trails, fatigue, heat exhaustion and a mid-hike change in personnel. That gave the Wildcat trail a 2 point advantage.
Six hikers went on to challenge the second half of the trail and enjoyed beautiful vistas, powerful scenery, relaxing breaks in soft pine forests, and a chance to bond together as a team to finish strong. That evened out the score at 2-2.
Perhaps we could tie ... but there was one more part of this adventure that I have not yet mentioned. Two hikers bid adieu and headed for home, leaving 4. One was from Columbus and three were from Dayton. Free will was lacking, perhaps by the fact that me, Barb and Laura were all in one car. But I think we all were in agreement as we headed north on Rt 13 towards Columbus that we needed to celebrate in style and to be completely honest, I think we were all hungry.
I don't remember who suggested it first, but we ended up in German Village in Columbus at Schmidt's Sausage Haus und Restaurant -- an authentic German eatery tucked away downtown. Rick and I attacked the buffet and beyond that I don't remember much. Steaming plates of sausages, potatoes, sauerkraut, and other delicacies pretty much clouded my senses. After two days of dehydrated food, and, for me at least, stolen food, it does not take much hiking background for anyone to imagine that a restaurant of any kind is a sensory overload and something akin to an otherworldly experience.
I actually did not stuff down as much as I could have, but every bite was delicious and the celebratory tone added to the fun. Think about it ... we went out into the woods with nothing more than we could carry and not only lived through it, but took on the challenges as they came our way and fought back. Sure we have good gear and lots of experience, so perhaps I am being melodramatic, but any time you can shake off the protection of all of our modern conveniences and pretty much effortlessly continue to live in relative comfort with just what you can carry in your pack, along with hiking 15 miles, I believe you have earned a celebration.
To be able to walk out of the woods and within an hour be dining on authentic German cuisine shows me that we have style. No rush to get home to shower. No aches or pains. No worries about our hair or the dirt on our clothes ... just 4 friends having fun that by the way, just spent the last 48 hours in the woods. That is pretty good karma.
Next month I will be out for 10 days. I assume within that span we may go 3 or 4 days at a stretch living out of our packs. I can only imagine how we will celebrate every victory, every bit of trail magic, and our eventual return to civilization. That is part of the hiking experience, the contrast to our daily lives.
So I think we earned at least one point. That puts the final score at Wildcat 4, Hikers 5.
We won!
Six hikers went on to challenge the second half of the trail and enjoyed beautiful vistas, powerful scenery, relaxing breaks in soft pine forests, and a chance to bond together as a team to finish strong. That evened out the score at 2-2.
Perhaps we could tie ... but there was one more part of this adventure that I have not yet mentioned. Two hikers bid adieu and headed for home, leaving 4. One was from Columbus and three were from Dayton. Free will was lacking, perhaps by the fact that me, Barb and Laura were all in one car. But I think we all were in agreement as we headed north on Rt 13 towards Columbus that we needed to celebrate in style and to be completely honest, I think we were all hungry.
I don't remember who suggested it first, but we ended up in German Village in Columbus at Schmidt's Sausage Haus und Restaurant -- an authentic German eatery tucked away downtown. Rick and I attacked the buffet and beyond that I don't remember much. Steaming plates of sausages, potatoes, sauerkraut, and other delicacies pretty much clouded my senses. After two days of dehydrated food, and, for me at least, stolen food, it does not take much hiking background for anyone to imagine that a restaurant of any kind is a sensory overload and something akin to an otherworldly experience.
I actually did not stuff down as much as I could have, but every bite was delicious and the celebratory tone added to the fun. Think about it ... we went out into the woods with nothing more than we could carry and not only lived through it, but took on the challenges as they came our way and fought back. Sure we have good gear and lots of experience, so perhaps I am being melodramatic, but any time you can shake off the protection of all of our modern conveniences and pretty much effortlessly continue to live in relative comfort with just what you can carry in your pack, along with hiking 15 miles, I believe you have earned a celebration.
To be able to walk out of the woods and within an hour be dining on authentic German cuisine shows me that we have style. No rush to get home to shower. No aches or pains. No worries about our hair or the dirt on our clothes ... just 4 friends having fun that by the way, just spent the last 48 hours in the woods. That is pretty good karma.
Next month I will be out for 10 days. I assume within that span we may go 3 or 4 days at a stretch living out of our packs. I can only imagine how we will celebrate every victory, every bit of trail magic, and our eventual return to civilization. That is part of the hiking experience, the contrast to our daily lives.
So I think we earned at least one point. That puts the final score at Wildcat 4, Hikers 5.
We won!
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Wildcat 2, Hikers 2: The Adventures Continues
Distractions and unexpected events have pulled me away from the Wildcat Hollow weekend. When I last posted we had suffered through cold, wet, heat, sickness, and getting lost. The park had pulled all the stops and was determined to beat us ... but persistent hikers we are, the score was evened up by Sunday.
Six remaining hikers pulled stakes and departed from the overnight campsite on a chilly and damp Sunday morning. Three of the hikers had decided to bug out early and take the roads back to the cars. Fine by me, I am good with "Hike Your Own Hike".
As the morning progressed so did the sun, and the temperature. Soon we were hiking through the next campsite (which I now know is much superior to the one I picked and is now my new official midpoint) and onward through some of the most picturesque parts of this park. Towering pines, steep valleys, wildflowers, and some challenging trails. We stopped for breaks in the pine trees, people and packs scattered about on the pine duff quietly talking and enjoying the breeze and the company as we relaxed, took it easy, and thoroughly enjoyed a great spring day.
We ate lunch perched on a log like birds on a wire. I had accidentally left one meal in the car and was planning on devouring my emergency rations for lunch: a Clif Bar and some leftover GORP. I was going to talk about how we shared food but, truth be told, that consisted mostly of my eating a goodly portion of Laura's food. I don't feel guilty, after all I was really just trying to lighten her pack. The tuna was delicious!
As we moved along the trail the temperature soared to 82, but the breeze was dry and the sun was out and the hike was fantastic. The actual Wildcat Hollow was wonderful, the trail winds down and around this sweeping valley lined with dozens of downed trees. A true testimonial to the power of nature, this area has been ravaged by storms and everywhere we went there were signs of destruction. But unlike man-made vandalism, this was beautiful and sad at the same time. The trail had to bob and weave around countless deadfalls and fallen tree trunks too big to climb. But the trail found its way and the trees will grow back and the park will remain beautiful year after year as it changes and restores itself.
We pushed past the hollow and entered some less attractive lands to finish up the last few miles. A few steep climbs, another ravine or two, and suddenly we are back at the cars. We made it! Two nights, two days, 15 or so miles, everyone safe and sound and ready to do it again. It took us from 10 am to about 4:30 pm (give or take, I was not really keeping track) to go 8 miles. Tells you something about the breaks we took ... and that was the point. Easy pace, but a real outdoor adventure.
This day earned the hikers two points. We slept in the cold, we hiked in the rain, we hunkered down under a tarp, we saw a temperature range of just about 50 degrees from coldest to warmest. We climbed hills and squished along miles of muddy trails, but we we rewarded with great views, big fun, and a great time with some wonderful friends, old and new. I think we earned these points ... but the true reward was a perfect hike on a perfect day. Can't ask for much more.
As to the score, we are tied with the park now. Wildcat 2, Hikers 2. Come back and visit Reboot, Select Adventure for the tie-breaking event that either hands success to the park or to the hikers. It could go either way ... who will win?
Six remaining hikers pulled stakes and departed from the overnight campsite on a chilly and damp Sunday morning. Three of the hikers had decided to bug out early and take the roads back to the cars. Fine by me, I am good with "Hike Your Own Hike".
As the morning progressed so did the sun, and the temperature. Soon we were hiking through the next campsite (which I now know is much superior to the one I picked and is now my new official midpoint) and onward through some of the most picturesque parts of this park. Towering pines, steep valleys, wildflowers, and some challenging trails. We stopped for breaks in the pine trees, people and packs scattered about on the pine duff quietly talking and enjoying the breeze and the company as we relaxed, took it easy, and thoroughly enjoyed a great spring day.
We ate lunch perched on a log like birds on a wire. I had accidentally left one meal in the car and was planning on devouring my emergency rations for lunch: a Clif Bar and some leftover GORP. I was going to talk about how we shared food but, truth be told, that consisted mostly of my eating a goodly portion of Laura's food. I don't feel guilty, after all I was really just trying to lighten her pack. The tuna was delicious!
As we moved along the trail the temperature soared to 82, but the breeze was dry and the sun was out and the hike was fantastic. The actual Wildcat Hollow was wonderful, the trail winds down and around this sweeping valley lined with dozens of downed trees. A true testimonial to the power of nature, this area has been ravaged by storms and everywhere we went there were signs of destruction. But unlike man-made vandalism, this was beautiful and sad at the same time. The trail had to bob and weave around countless deadfalls and fallen tree trunks too big to climb. But the trail found its way and the trees will grow back and the park will remain beautiful year after year as it changes and restores itself.
We pushed past the hollow and entered some less attractive lands to finish up the last few miles. A few steep climbs, another ravine or two, and suddenly we are back at the cars. We made it! Two nights, two days, 15 or so miles, everyone safe and sound and ready to do it again. It took us from 10 am to about 4:30 pm (give or take, I was not really keeping track) to go 8 miles. Tells you something about the breaks we took ... and that was the point. Easy pace, but a real outdoor adventure.
This day earned the hikers two points. We slept in the cold, we hiked in the rain, we hunkered down under a tarp, we saw a temperature range of just about 50 degrees from coldest to warmest. We climbed hills and squished along miles of muddy trails, but we we rewarded with great views, big fun, and a great time with some wonderful friends, old and new. I think we earned these points ... but the true reward was a perfect hike on a perfect day. Can't ask for much more.
As to the score, we are tied with the park now. Wildcat 2, Hikers 2. Come back and visit Reboot, Select Adventure for the tie-breaking event that either hands success to the park or to the hikers. It could go either way ... who will win?
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Crash
I guess every day can't be a success. Saturday was a little worse than most, but considering my propensity towards having good days I really can't complain.
Flexeril is a new word in my vocabulary ... at least spelled like that. As an EMT I am somewhat familiar with a broad range of pharmaceuticals (along with a surprising list of recreational drugs that have also taken root in the suburban districts where I ran as a medic). I wonder how often I scribed Flexoral on a Patient Care Report. Whatever the proper spelling, I am becoming quite familiar with this medication and though I appreciate the pain relief I am not so keen on the side effects. No doubt I will review this post some day and discover that it is unintelligible. So be it, I have a story to tell and there are no guarantees of coherence here.
It started Saturday morning with a fairly lofty goal -- hike 12 miles with full pack in a local park. To that end four people showed up to this posted Meetup and shortly after 9 am we headed out. Despite days of heavy rain, this day was shaping up to be quite nice. The clouds were lifting, temperature was nice, and though a bit humid, it was actually a good day for hiking. Even the trails were in great shape. I remember thinking how nice it was to not be slipping and sliding around like I was a few weeks ago in Wildcat Hollow.
Descending a steep but manageable downhill, suddenly my feet shot out from under me and I fell backwards landing on my rear and backpack. I sat there a second surprised but worried more about my bruised ego. As I evaluated myself for injury, I noted that I had come down hard on the backpack and could feel it was still holding me up. Still no pain, so I started to move. That was when the pain started ... every move shot through my lower back like flames. Not completely unbearable, but I rated these pains 8 out of 10 later on that day. I slowly lifted myself up and began to figure out what I had done and more importantly, what I could continue to do.
Kenny and Kelly caught up and to be quite honest I don't recall the entire conversation. They offered me Ibuprofen, which I temporarily declined so I could observe my symptoms without masking them. The pain was bad enough that I thought I had possibly cracked or torn something in my lower back. Slowly I shuffled off, testing my body and trying to determine what I should do next. We were only three miles in, and had 9 to go ... and 9 is my longest hike this season, and that was without an injury and it was difficult.
We stopped where the trail comes out on a road. The park maintains a rental shelter/cabin and there are benches and a porch. I pulled off my pack and began sipping on a Gatorade. The other hikers offered to redistribute some of my gear, and I also began eying places to stash gear so I could drive back to the shelter and collect my goods without putting additional burdens on the team. Finally after I started feeling even worse I decided to pull the plug on this hike and asked the team to help me evacuate back to my car.
The group made sure I was comfortable, and that I had food and water. I had a full pack so I had dry clothing, my shell, and plenty of nutrition and hydration. They hiked on to the next landmark which is the Caesars Creek visitor center. While they were gone I ate lunch and tried to stay comfortable. Not moving much was (and still is) a good option.
Some time later I was rewarded with Kelly arriving in Kenn's truck. Seems she was able to secure a ride from the visitors center to where our cars were parked. Soon after I was safely in my own car heading towards home.
En route the pain continued to escalate so I diverted to a hospital for evaluation. The docs gave me a clean bill of health and wrote me my prescriptions. Then I headed home for a weekend of R&R.
No real drama here ... and as am emergency responder I can attest that this is how most rescues and medical evacs are. Go find a car and send everybody home. But for me it was a unique experience to be the patient. Made me glad to have a team I could trust!
The team deserves recognition -- when I needed help the only question asked was "How?" No complaints or encouragement to get the hike back on track. Just quiet efficiency to figure out the best way to get me to safety. Kenny kind of ran the show, Kelly had the charm to secure a ride, Judy offered up advice and my first round of Vitamin I, and John was invaluable for logistics. From injury to car was about 2 1/2 hours. Not bad for what amounts to a wilderness rescue, and a lot of that was me hiking out to the road.
One of the nurses suggested I stop hiking. She thinks this kind of activity can be dangerous. And it can be. All you can do is mitigate the danger with proper training, good tools and supplies, and by using your brain. This is a park in a populated area with easy access to 911. I made an urban decision because I could -- stop hiking and get checked out. I could have to make a very different decision on the AT. But I will have more gear, and all of the essentials. Along with a different mindset.
Looking at it now there is really only one mistake I can make regarding hiking and that would be to stop.
You do enough activities outdoors and sooner or later you are going to get hurt. That is inevitable. The key is to know how you are going to react and what you are going to do when the bad thing happens. Stopping hiking could prevent injuries, but it is dooming me to a life of inactivity that could kill me quicker with obesity, heart attacks and boredom.
I'll get better in a week or two and once again I will train for the AT and head out to my AT trip a little more careful and lot wiser. Once you Select Adventure for your life you need to ride it out!
ps I did not bring a knife which would have been critical for a real injury. Even a backyard park can take hours to get help. I found the knife in the kitchen today and made sure it got back in with my gear. It was dirty from cutting food and I had washed it and put it on the counter. Perhaps my trusty knife is normally used to carve cheese or trim loose threads, but Saturday it could have saved my life. I'll remember that lesson well ... you never head out planning on getting injured so it's easy to cut corners on a local hike. Even in a park like this one nature can lash out and I pledge to always be ready!
Flexeril is a new word in my vocabulary ... at least spelled like that. As an EMT I am somewhat familiar with a broad range of pharmaceuticals (along with a surprising list of recreational drugs that have also taken root in the suburban districts where I ran as a medic). I wonder how often I scribed Flexoral on a Patient Care Report. Whatever the proper spelling, I am becoming quite familiar with this medication and though I appreciate the pain relief I am not so keen on the side effects. No doubt I will review this post some day and discover that it is unintelligible. So be it, I have a story to tell and there are no guarantees of coherence here.
It started Saturday morning with a fairly lofty goal -- hike 12 miles with full pack in a local park. To that end four people showed up to this posted Meetup and shortly after 9 am we headed out. Despite days of heavy rain, this day was shaping up to be quite nice. The clouds were lifting, temperature was nice, and though a bit humid, it was actually a good day for hiking. Even the trails were in great shape. I remember thinking how nice it was to not be slipping and sliding around like I was a few weeks ago in Wildcat Hollow.
Descending a steep but manageable downhill, suddenly my feet shot out from under me and I fell backwards landing on my rear and backpack. I sat there a second surprised but worried more about my bruised ego. As I evaluated myself for injury, I noted that I had come down hard on the backpack and could feel it was still holding me up. Still no pain, so I started to move. That was when the pain started ... every move shot through my lower back like flames. Not completely unbearable, but I rated these pains 8 out of 10 later on that day. I slowly lifted myself up and began to figure out what I had done and more importantly, what I could continue to do.
Kenny and Kelly caught up and to be quite honest I don't recall the entire conversation. They offered me Ibuprofen, which I temporarily declined so I could observe my symptoms without masking them. The pain was bad enough that I thought I had possibly cracked or torn something in my lower back. Slowly I shuffled off, testing my body and trying to determine what I should do next. We were only three miles in, and had 9 to go ... and 9 is my longest hike this season, and that was without an injury and it was difficult.
We stopped where the trail comes out on a road. The park maintains a rental shelter/cabin and there are benches and a porch. I pulled off my pack and began sipping on a Gatorade. The other hikers offered to redistribute some of my gear, and I also began eying places to stash gear so I could drive back to the shelter and collect my goods without putting additional burdens on the team. Finally after I started feeling even worse I decided to pull the plug on this hike and asked the team to help me evacuate back to my car.
The group made sure I was comfortable, and that I had food and water. I had a full pack so I had dry clothing, my shell, and plenty of nutrition and hydration. They hiked on to the next landmark which is the Caesars Creek visitor center. While they were gone I ate lunch and tried to stay comfortable. Not moving much was (and still is) a good option.
Some time later I was rewarded with Kelly arriving in Kenn's truck. Seems she was able to secure a ride from the visitors center to where our cars were parked. Soon after I was safely in my own car heading towards home.
En route the pain continued to escalate so I diverted to a hospital for evaluation. The docs gave me a clean bill of health and wrote me my prescriptions. Then I headed home for a weekend of R&R.
No real drama here ... and as am emergency responder I can attest that this is how most rescues and medical evacs are. Go find a car and send everybody home. But for me it was a unique experience to be the patient. Made me glad to have a team I could trust!
The team deserves recognition -- when I needed help the only question asked was "How?" No complaints or encouragement to get the hike back on track. Just quiet efficiency to figure out the best way to get me to safety. Kenny kind of ran the show, Kelly had the charm to secure a ride, Judy offered up advice and my first round of Vitamin I, and John was invaluable for logistics. From injury to car was about 2 1/2 hours. Not bad for what amounts to a wilderness rescue, and a lot of that was me hiking out to the road.
One of the nurses suggested I stop hiking. She thinks this kind of activity can be dangerous. And it can be. All you can do is mitigate the danger with proper training, good tools and supplies, and by using your brain. This is a park in a populated area with easy access to 911. I made an urban decision because I could -- stop hiking and get checked out. I could have to make a very different decision on the AT. But I will have more gear, and all of the essentials. Along with a different mindset.
Looking at it now there is really only one mistake I can make regarding hiking and that would be to stop.
You do enough activities outdoors and sooner or later you are going to get hurt. That is inevitable. The key is to know how you are going to react and what you are going to do when the bad thing happens. Stopping hiking could prevent injuries, but it is dooming me to a life of inactivity that could kill me quicker with obesity, heart attacks and boredom.
I'll get better in a week or two and once again I will train for the AT and head out to my AT trip a little more careful and lot wiser. Once you Select Adventure for your life you need to ride it out!
ps I did not bring a knife which would have been critical for a real injury. Even a backyard park can take hours to get help. I found the knife in the kitchen today and made sure it got back in with my gear. It was dirty from cutting food and I had washed it and put it on the counter. Perhaps my trusty knife is normally used to carve cheese or trim loose threads, but Saturday it could have saved my life. I'll remember that lesson well ... you never head out planning on getting injured so it's easy to cut corners on a local hike. Even in a park like this one nature can lash out and I pledge to always be ready!
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Solving a quandary, Reboot Style
Have you ever been faced with a quandary? A perplexing set of circumstances that need to be resolved with no solution forthcoming? It can drive you mad, rattling around inside your head as you pursue one angle, then another, until logical thought processes become so jumbled up you have nothing left but a tangle. At times like this you have to abandon your logical self and let greater forces have a go at it.
What greater force to clear your jumbled mind than nature herself?
I was not far from a park that has a spot that I have used regularly over the years to think, mull, solve problems or just be inspired. I found my thinking bench, sat back, and just watched the trees for a while. This bench overlooks a beautiful hollow with a nice creek at the bottom and an endless variety of trees and flowers and birds. At first you just have green trees. Then your mind relaxes and other things start to pop up you did not notice before. A slight movement, or an interesting sound. You feel the breeze, and occasionally a colorful tree or splotch of wildflowers you have not noticed suddenly comes into focus. You wait for the answer.
I sat there quietly letting my mind drift. The late afternoon sun brightened as the clouds slowly dissipated, and the forest took on a sharp clarity from the low angle sun.
"We will always be there." A message from the trees, almost as if a voice had spoken it. In my mind I rolled this around. What does this mean?
"No matter what happens, we will always be there. When you come back in 10 years, no matter what decisions you have made and whatever consequences you have lived, you can come back to this spot and enjoy this kind of moment. Nothing can take that away from you."
Talkative trees. But they were not the only thing passing a message and this time the message was real and you would have heard it too, if you were sitting beside me on the bench. You would have heard laughing. Gentle, musical laughing. Like kids in a playground having fun. It was the sound of the stream below, echoing up between the valley walls reminding me to laugh.
I leaned back and drifted away for a while... until a loud noise across the way broke my reverie and I snapped to, senses alert. The trees were trees, the creek sounded like water, and the path to my left became something to analyze step by step as I stood up to return to walking. The spell was broken, though I was relaxed and calm.
I walked along wondering what these messages meant and how in the world these obscure references could aid me in my real-life decision making. I had a place to go to center myself and a suggestion to laugh. Not much practical use.
I guess the forest noticed that I was not getting it.
I turned a corner and heard crashing noises in the bushes. I peered into a clearing to see two squirrels playing chase. Around and up and down, leaping across the grass; playing like only animals can play on a warm, sunny, Sunday evening. About 20 yards down the path I hear more crashing and see more squirrels bounding about. Again they were playing, just having fun running about and crashing through the bushes. I passed this ruckus and headed down a hill. I hike a lot and rarely see animals. Two encounters like this was exceptional! At the bottom of the hill I came across two more squirrels just leaping and bounding and chasing one another. Fairly convinced these were not all the same squirrels, I was thrilled to see so much happiness. The sun had come out and the walking was easy, and as I headed away from the squirrel-zone I had one more word pop into my head: Play.
Now I have something to work with. Perhaps. The things you need will always be there. Laugh. And Play. As a writer I played with the word order to arrange some kind of coherent thought. The talkative trees were a bit harder to pin down but I got the gist of it.
Remember to laugh, take time to play, and whatever happens you can still come back to that beautiful spot and reset. Or reboot. Because nothing can keep you away.
Did all of this help me with my quandary? Not one bit. No voice boomed down from a cloud with step by step instructions. No magical beings appeared from a mist and offered up sage advice. I guess I am on my own to come up with my own practical solutions. But I can be thankful: I have an approach ... Play. I have a stress reliever ... Laugh. I have a solid place to land when life gets into a turmoil, with my talkative trees.
About now the curious person would be wondering about the nature of this quandary and the reason why I was in need of a special place to think. Rest assured that the choices I have are about joy and defining who I am and what makes me happy. Earlier that day I had spent time looking for words. Turns out I was also looking for a squirrel ... who found me to teach me to play. Now I recognize the irony ... what I am looking for is also looking for me. Stop seeking and start seeing ... laugh and play, and whatever the final outcome I will end up where I want to be.
What greater force to clear your jumbled mind than nature herself?
I was not far from a park that has a spot that I have used regularly over the years to think, mull, solve problems or just be inspired. I found my thinking bench, sat back, and just watched the trees for a while. This bench overlooks a beautiful hollow with a nice creek at the bottom and an endless variety of trees and flowers and birds. At first you just have green trees. Then your mind relaxes and other things start to pop up you did not notice before. A slight movement, or an interesting sound. You feel the breeze, and occasionally a colorful tree or splotch of wildflowers you have not noticed suddenly comes into focus. You wait for the answer.
I sat there quietly letting my mind drift. The late afternoon sun brightened as the clouds slowly dissipated, and the forest took on a sharp clarity from the low angle sun.
"We will always be there." A message from the trees, almost as if a voice had spoken it. In my mind I rolled this around. What does this mean?
"No matter what happens, we will always be there. When you come back in 10 years, no matter what decisions you have made and whatever consequences you have lived, you can come back to this spot and enjoy this kind of moment. Nothing can take that away from you."
Talkative trees. But they were not the only thing passing a message and this time the message was real and you would have heard it too, if you were sitting beside me on the bench. You would have heard laughing. Gentle, musical laughing. Like kids in a playground having fun. It was the sound of the stream below, echoing up between the valley walls reminding me to laugh.
I leaned back and drifted away for a while... until a loud noise across the way broke my reverie and I snapped to, senses alert. The trees were trees, the creek sounded like water, and the path to my left became something to analyze step by step as I stood up to return to walking. The spell was broken, though I was relaxed and calm.
I walked along wondering what these messages meant and how in the world these obscure references could aid me in my real-life decision making. I had a place to go to center myself and a suggestion to laugh. Not much practical use.
I guess the forest noticed that I was not getting it.
I turned a corner and heard crashing noises in the bushes. I peered into a clearing to see two squirrels playing chase. Around and up and down, leaping across the grass; playing like only animals can play on a warm, sunny, Sunday evening. About 20 yards down the path I hear more crashing and see more squirrels bounding about. Again they were playing, just having fun running about and crashing through the bushes. I passed this ruckus and headed down a hill. I hike a lot and rarely see animals. Two encounters like this was exceptional! At the bottom of the hill I came across two more squirrels just leaping and bounding and chasing one another. Fairly convinced these were not all the same squirrels, I was thrilled to see so much happiness. The sun had come out and the walking was easy, and as I headed away from the squirrel-zone I had one more word pop into my head: Play.
Now I have something to work with. Perhaps. The things you need will always be there. Laugh. And Play. As a writer I played with the word order to arrange some kind of coherent thought. The talkative trees were a bit harder to pin down but I got the gist of it.
Remember to laugh, take time to play, and whatever happens you can still come back to that beautiful spot and reset. Or reboot. Because nothing can keep you away.
Did all of this help me with my quandary? Not one bit. No voice boomed down from a cloud with step by step instructions. No magical beings appeared from a mist and offered up sage advice. I guess I am on my own to come up with my own practical solutions. But I can be thankful: I have an approach ... Play. I have a stress reliever ... Laugh. I have a solid place to land when life gets into a turmoil, with my talkative trees.
About now the curious person would be wondering about the nature of this quandary and the reason why I was in need of a special place to think. Rest assured that the choices I have are about joy and defining who I am and what makes me happy. Earlier that day I had spent time looking for words. Turns out I was also looking for a squirrel ... who found me to teach me to play. Now I recognize the irony ... what I am looking for is also looking for me. Stop seeking and start seeing ... laugh and play, and whatever the final outcome I will end up where I want to be.
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