I sit staring out the bedroom window, my gaze affixed on the white-spattered peaks of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains thinking about my early morning hike and how that experience mirrored the way I approach my life. I'm distracted by the beauty of the picturesque scenery that is a Crestone postcard in the making. I want to reach out and touch the mountains but I'm told the base is about a mile away. So my vision remains glued on the power and splendor of it all as I contemplate the meaning of that mild walk in the mid of winter. The snow crunched under my slightly damp shoes as I forged the path seeking out the melted spots, warmed by the gentle rays of the sun. The temperature was perfect for a vest, though a sweatshirt was sufficient. I'm lost in the beauty, the stillness, and silence. I can hear the birds chirping and the faint sound of the wind chimes playing their soft melody, reminding me that I'm not far from base camp (the townhouse). But then I recall the conversation the previous night about the bears. I know they are hibernating but someone jokingly told me to be careful if I see one curled up against a tree. Suddenly I become paranoid and a bit fearful, nervous about continuing. I thought about what I would do if I encountered a bear or another strange animal. My cell phone wouldn't be much help as there is no signal in this area. I cautiously walked forward approaching a narrow tree-lined path, curious about what was around the bend. I contemplated going back but talked myself into continuing. After 15 minutes into the trail, I heard a noise in the thick of the trees. I froze for an instant; my breathing became shallow. Was it my imagination? Do I run, make myself larger than life, scream, turn around or wait? I didn't have to decide. I could tell I wasn't in danger as the deer leaped into the clearing. Further up, I encountered a fork and wasn't sure which way to go. I hesitated for a moment wondering how bad a wrong choice would be. Would I get lost? Would I wander too far and get caught in bad weather? Would anyone find me? And now I'm reminded of my fears in life. What if it doesn't turn out, what if I make a mistake, what if it's the wrong choice? What if? I made a decision and faced the uncertainty. I stopped and took a deep breath and thought about my fears. Were they real? Was there any basis for them? What do I know about bears and what makes sense? What does my gut tell me? I started to laugh at my insecurities, because really, this was not a hike in a desolate forest. I mean I wasn't in an isolated wilderness miles from a campground. For Pete's sake, it was just a very nice hiking trail meandering away from the town not too far in the distance. But I was alone; no one to talk to--just me with my thoughts and they were haunting me. I knew I needed to change my focus; I needed to step out of my fears. I noticed the trail had markers along the way inviting visitors to participate in an exercise routine. I decided to play along. I enjoyed the little people pictures demonstrating the procedure for each stop. It felt like I actually had company. I read the instructions out loud to break the silence so I wouldn't hear the fear talking to me. This was a nice diversion. I then embarked on the routine and found the first few quite familiar-they were just stretching routines. I ventured forward but I must have taken a wrong turn because the numbers were out of sequence. I started to backtrack but gave up and decided to keep going and see what lie ahead. I became absorbed in trying some of the upper body challenges. I thought they looked simple-they weren't. I kept going, gaining confidence but as I approached a small hill, I thought it was enough adventure and time to turn around. Then I questioned, "Why?" I answered, "Because I really don't know what's up ahead and what if...?" I encouraged myself to hike to the top and once there, and seeing nothing, I decided to turn around. The hike back went much more quickly because now it was familiar. I hadn't realized how far I had traveled. I was glad to be heading back knowing that I had accomplished something new and pushed a little out of my comfort zone. So now I'm enjoying the view from the window. The stars are shining brightly in the darkened sky, the moon is a silver crescent, and I'm snuggled with a hot drink reminiscing of my short forage into the trails of the Crestone valley. I contemplate how my thoughts and the voices of fear almost stopped me and how that is true in other areas of my life. I realize too that I can control my thoughts and create a new story - one that is more true and supports my moving forward. And it occurred to me how much my adventure paralleled my life. Sometimes life is scary and I don't want to look around the corner. I'd rather stay put or turn back and do what is safe. But then I am reminded that if you keep doing what you've always done, you'll get what you've always gotten. You have to venture out and risk. You have to be willing to be uncomfortable and try new things. You must challenge yourself to take the next step, to "feel the fear and do it anyway," to be courageous and to stretch yourself. If you want to go forward, you have to have the courage to look ahead, climb the hill, choose at the fork, make a decision and just do it. You have to exercise your courage muscle so it becomes easier and more doable the next time. What a great little life lesson! |
