Heart

One month ago, on June 2, I dropped my best friend off in a Kroger parking lot in West Virginia to take the next steps to completing a crazy goal. I drove off in tears, consumed with grief at leaving behind my best friend. Driving the 4.5 hours home intermittently crying tears of grief, sadness, frustration and joy. Yes, joy. For you see when I had driven earlier that week to pick up my friend he wasn't my best friend, certainly fairly close, but those few days together, solidified everything and we were suddenly best friends. Despite the tears of grief, those tears of joy existed amongst them. I was happy to have an amazing friendship, one that challenged me, supported me and one in which I was safe, secure and loved. There was grief at leaving him, knowing that it would be months of grueling work on his part to complete this goal; grief at the short time we had together; fear of the unknown, for hiking does involve danger and we have already had enough dangerous encounters these past few months. 

When I volunteered to assist Rue McKenrick with the American Perimeter Trail project I distinctly remember sending him a message that I sincerely hoped that we would be friends as well as business partners. Little did either of us know that we would quickly become friends and in a few short months develop a deep bond of friendship and gain a lifetime best friend. He and I have had a whirlwind of 6 months, from nearly running out of money, hiking through the initial wave of Covid-19, to creating a logo, storefront and building a community; it has been beautiful and chaotic. We juggle the business aspect of the Trail and our friendship, often switching mid-conversation from business to personal and back to business. While it is highly unconventional it works for us. This is no ordinary business or project. This is a project that requires heart, faith and love. You can't connect people to the land and the land to communities without heart.

Heart, it's something I haven't spoken about much here lately. My heart is fully vested into this project, and in committing myself to something larger than me I find my heart opening in new ways. It's challenged me, challenged the experiences I have had over the past 20 years, and I find new pieces of myself frequently. It's been a beautiful gift that I have been given, though not without painful growth. In volunteering for this project I could have never imagined what I would be doing, where I would grow and how it would change me. I know that this project is not temporary, but a lifelong commitment. It fuels my personal goal to living a life less ordinary; teaching my children to chase dreams and that a cookie-cutter life is not the only option. This project and this beautiful friendship are a blessing and a gift, not only for me, but for them as well. I can reflect back over these past 6 months and see immense changes in myself, and it all stems from the changes in my heart. One of the best surprises of the heart has been to observe my children's hearts. I listen to them reflect on how Rue is doing hiking; is he safe? does he have enough food, money? It's statements like tonight that are made at bedtime, "have you spoken with Rue? Is he ok tonight?" that strike my heart and allow me glimpses into the hearts of my children. 

As I open more, they open more. There is less fear, less uncertainty and a more stable, loving life. As they watch me jump in and dedicate my time, heart and energy to this, they follow of their own accord, but also open their own hearts as well. In those moments it brings me tears of joy and disbelief. As a parent you often hope that your children have the ability to act beyond themselves; within this project and my relationship with Rue, I have I have been able to observe their hearts, actions and intentions. I am beyond grateful for those glimpses. So, as I drove away I cried for myself, for my children and for him; for it was not just a leaving of a best friend, but of a piece of myself. Our meeting had been 5 months in the making, and it's another 4 months to the next. I'll see you in Bend Rue.

Rue and I before the drop-off

Gratitude

I was asked earlier this week to identify how I want to be thanked, acknowledged, recognized. How would I best like gratitude expressed to me? I stumbled in my response, this wasn't the usual survey that you complete at work that has basic options such as do you want to be publicly recognized, no public recognition, would you like a specific candy treat, etc that I have completed before. This was a genuine question and concern to acknowledge me and my contributions in a way that would be most comfortable and address my needs. Again, I stumbled. Maybe you know right off the bat, but I certainly didn't and promised that I would think and reflect.

It's uncomfortable to sit and think about this. Why? It's not that I don't believe that I am not worthy of the praise, nor that I don't deserve it. It's partially that I am not used to that type of recognition. Those of you who were around in the early years of this blog, following the journey to the PhD there was very little praise, it was a lot of criticism, not always constructive either. Those years certainly left a mark on me, as well as my marriage. It is a different feeling to be acknowledged for being yourself. The contributions I am making are certainly worth being recognized and gratitude expressed, though what I am doing is such a core part of me that at times it seems silly to "thank me" for doing what comes naturally. Though, I know from past experience that if I am not recognized it can lead to frustration, anger, resentment, and a lot of hurt feelings and misery on my end. So, I have to sit with my discomfort and find what is going to be the most accepting to balance my need to be recognized and seen and not be placed on a pedestal.

Two things that are always important to me are words and actions. It is through these that I feel the most loved, appreciated and seen. When you examine gratitude it is a form of love, so it only makes sense to tie back to what makes you feel loved. I want to hear it out loud, see it written and know that it comes genuinely from your heart.  Private notes, letters, texts, emails are wonderful ways to express this to me, as well as some recognition on a public level. The publicity is less important, as the critical component is the genuineness of the words. In taking the time and effort to acknowledge me in these ways you are also performing an action. Words are critical and crucial to me; though actions are also important. Tying this need into an expression of gratitude and recognition is challenging. I think for these purposes it means follow through, the completion of the desired action. Action isn't the same as gifts. While I enjoy receiving flowers, I appreciate the gesture as much as I appreciate the flowers themselves. Action is taking your time to do something for me, whether that is cooking for me, teaching me a new skill, or even sending me a song, poem, or book I might enjoy.

Through all of this the themes that emerge are connection and genuineness. The expression of recognition should be genuine, personal and written both privately and publicly. Expanding on that gratitude can be expressed through actions that reflect our connection. These may appear to be simple to many, but there is such beauty in the simplicity. I am not one for complexities in areas that do not require. As a woman with a complex, intricately chaotic life, the simplicity of my desires are a reflection of my core self. The external chaos requires a counterbalance of simplicity and connection. I desire to be seen, acknowledged, and recognized for my core being.

Not Seeking Perfection

I am not perfect and I am fine with that. I am me. I am an adventurous, whirlwind woman with an intense ability to love and internal drive to pursue passionate projects with every drop of me. I am a single mom to 4 chaotic kids. I am not a super hero, nor do I want to be on a pedestal. I want and deserve to be loved for the raw me that I am. I have countless flaws, my own insecurities and fears and other imperfections. I am known for saying I'm not special, I'm just me. The other day I was fiercely reminded that I am special and I should eliminate the "just me" from my vocabulary.

I will be honest and share that that didn't sit well with me. For who am I but me? I have been a host of different versions of me, and this new one is quite a powerhouse. The merging and solidifying of so many different aspects of me into this woman I am becoming is not a "just me" woman. She is an unstoppable force. One who leads with love and light, and a little sit down and just do it! attitude. She is a partner, an unbelievable friend, leader, and mother. She adventures, lives freely, and loves openly. If you thought that the woman who started this blog, the mother, wife and PhD student was impressive, well prepared to be amazed over the course of the next few years.

It will be messy, it will be beautiful and it will not be perfect. I have no desire for it to be perfect. There will be mistakes, big ones, massive ones and little ones. Yes, I am sure that there will be lessons in the mistakes, but it's not about the silver lining or always about the blessings that come from those. In the mistakes is the learning of "who I am not" to quote a dear friend. For I learn more in the mistakes of "who I am not" than I do when I am actively seeking who I am. There is beauty in the imperfections that is not found in perfection. As I proceed I don't want to be told I doing things perfectly, I want to be acknowledged for my successes and my imperfections, for it is these that will help keep me balanced.

To quote one of my favorite books "it's gonna be a bumpy ride!"

Got my hair caught in a branch on a recent hike!