Every step, every moment is a gift. That impossible appearing hill or mountain is a gift. As I hiked a strenuous trail today, one of my absolute favorites, and my legs were tired of climbing, my lungs burned and my nose itched under my mask all I could think was that I had been given a gift. It feels like a lifetime ago that I rediscovered hiking and my joy of the outdoors. I feel as if I have been backpacking my entire life, not just 18 months. The gift I was given in May 2019 continues to gift me with more. It connected me to an entirely new community, connected me to the American Perimeter Trail Project, and most importantly connected me back to me.
Out on the trail, nothing but nature around me and in me I can hear myself. I hear my thoughts, experience my feelings in new ways. I purposefully choose not to listen to music, but my own thoughts, my own fears, and experience them. It is a gift to be able to walk with myself. I make the conscious choice to connect and communicate with me. This past year I have been seeking adventures with other, not because I cannot walk with myself, but because I craved community. After 11 months of seeking community on the trail with backpacking I have decided that for now I will not actively seek community, I will let the path lead. My adventures with others backpacking went well, I had no complaints and I would go out again with any of the ladies I met, though for me I missed myself. I missed my contemplative time, the quiet I experience on the trail. I am the hiker that prefers quiet and listening to nature. I do enjoy a good conversation, but I also prefer the peace that I find in the quiet. I can find my footing, find myself, and find the gift that is me.
It is a gift to walk for me to walk with me, as me. On the trail there is only me, no longer do I function as mom, manager, coordinator, coach, cheerleader, chef, maid, analyst, laundress, chauffeur, therapist. I am only me. The trail, no matter the length, provides me with that gift. Running used to provide something similar, but I never found the peace in it as I have with hiking and backpacking. Laughing at myself as I stumble, catch my toe on the never ending rocks of Pennsylvania, listening to my poles scratch the rocks, feeling the pole slip off the rock I find myself repeatedly. There I can see the woman I am, perfectly imperfect, yet a gift.
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