These past 2 weeks have brought a host of changes to my life. The ending of my position at my previous hospital after 9 years as I decided to transition to some place a new, a week off between positions, a birthday, the starting of the new position, and an unexpected surprise. For 9 years I called one amazing children's hospital home, first as a pediatric physical therapist, and then as the Epic analyst for therapy services. Both were rewarding, but it was time to continue to something new and stretch myself.
With a week off between positions I picked my favorite form of self-care: hiking. Backpacking was not feasible, but solid day hikes were on the agenda most days, as well as being able to witness S competing in her first track meet as a pole vaulter. In the midst of this week of self-care I began to find myself again. Find the woman that I knew and loved, one that had been missing for the past few weeks as I managed to survive a host of stressors. I began to look forward to my upcoming birthday, instead of approaching it with a mild feeling of dread and impending disappointment.
My birthday I celebrated by hiking my favorite section of the Appalachian Trail in Pennsylvania, Pulpit to Pinnacle. A solid 10+ mile hike with incredible views, rocks, a good climb, and some ridge walking. It's one I discovered by accident a few years ago and have been back a number of times. The hike, the views, the birds, and the entire experience never grows old. I packed in a cupcake from the local bakery and celebrated atop Pinnacle with a chocolate cupcake, alone, but happy. My birthday is often a source of anxiety and stress, and post-trauma response, yet each year I work through new parts of it and this hike was what I had envisioned for my 40th, yet it took me an additional 2 years to manifest my vision. It was worth the wait and this birthday was filled with even less stress, anxiety, and minimal trauma response.
My belated birthday gift arrived this weekend. A backpacking trip with my best friend. This was unexpected as they had been across the country and I had been happy to simply have the long phone calls we shared on my birthday. My solo backpacking trip to close out more miles of the AT in Pennsylvania rapidly transformed into a trip for 2. We have joked about hiking and backpacking together for 2 years but the constraints of time, location, health, and money have impeded every attempt. When he was gifted a trip to Pennsylvania we were still unsure if backpacking would happen, though we knew a visit was at least possible; our first in person in nearly a year.
With a plan in place Friday afternoon I drove partway across the state and found myself in a state of shock hugging my best friend. Here we were embracing nearly 3 months before we were to see each other next. I nearly cried, and instead found myself laughing. Saturday we packed up the remaining gear, split what we needed to carry and set out for Pine Grove. The sun shone, the birds called, and there were quaint flowers bursting pinks, purples, and white at us as we walked on the pine needle covered dirt path with our packs lightly on our backs. Up and over the peaks, down into the valleys briefly we hiked, laughed, and shared the joys of being together in person. We have an incredibly complex and intricate relationship, balancing our friendship, our passion project, and a business. As we are used to phone calls when we are in person it often takes me a moment to settle in, and sometimes I simply need to take a quick moment and close my eyes, yet our friendship is one of the most precious parts of my life. This was an unexpected gift, a belated birthday gift that was worth the wait. We bonded in new ways, the ways that you only can when you're laughing as your foot slips as you attempt to climb a small boulder or sitting on the rocks at a view while the sun warms and dries your back relieved of its pack.
Business called and we bypassed a camping spot that looked divine but lacked cellular service. We enjoyed 2 hours on zoom in my tent laughing with our members, my phone propped on his pack before we realized we needed to hold it. If you've never run a zoom session from your tent on the Appalachian Trail in the dark while wrapped in your quilt I have to recommend it. We laughed, swapped stories, and made plans for our big event this summer. As the evening wore down we laughed more on our own and fell easily into sleep, each snug into our quilts. As the sun rose and woke me, I found myself briefly confused as to the person in my tent as I've only ever shared this tent with S, and then my dear friend rolled over and cracked a joke. For 2 hours we laid there laughing, sharing and simply relaxing before we decided to break camp and make the 10 mile trek back to the car.
My heart was light, my body grounded, and my soul connected. I knew I needed to backpack this weekend. I knew I needed the physical reset and grounding that is provided when I sleep in my tent and hike over the earth. What I didn't know was that I needed to share this experience, and specifically share this experience with my best friend. As we hiked out the rain began, a steady spring Appalachian rain, one that quietly comes and finishes rinsing you of the detritus that you carry unknowingly. We shared more stories, more of our visions, and expanded our passion project to new areas. Reaching the car drenched and ready to dry off I wasn't sad, I was content in our shared experience. It wasn't until I dropped him off that the tears threatened. It was sadness, and as much as it was that it was a brief moment of being off balance. Together we ground each other in a way that only close friends can do, and in that moment as I shifted to independent grounding I was struck by the transition. My heart and my soul are grateful for the time and connection we were afforded this weekend, even as parts of it are sad at the briefness of it all. I honor the sadness while still celebrating the beauty that we had. It was an unexpected gift, one that I will treasure. Until our next meeting.
