“Who Will You Be?”

It’s a question I’ve heard more than once lately.  Usually, it’s in reference to the struggles people might be having dealing with the isolation precipitated from the Coronavirus “lockdown.”  Now, with things “easing up,” I’ve heard, or seen written, the question — “Who will you be on the other side of the pandemic?”  Or some variation thereof.

It’s a good question, and one which can foster deep reflection and personal growth if we each let it.

It also applies to backpacking the Appalachian Trail.

“Who will you be?  Who will you be when you step off the trail?”  And not just at Katahdin in Maine, but anywhere you choose or need to stop hiking.

I even still ask myself that question to this day: “Who did I become when I stepped from the trail in Maine?  What came next?  What have I accomplished?  What’s been positive in my life?  What do I regret?  What would I do different?  What can I achieve now?  What does my future hold?”

In the brief post, I commend that question to you.  You can ask it even if you’ve not hiked the trail!

Wishing you productive thinking!  Timothy

Trail of Dreams

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Happy New Year!  I hope we have a fabulous year and decade ahead.  Remember, as you hike the trails, be they the Appalachian Trail, or just a random footpath in your neighborhood, to breathe in on each step.  And remember, you’re here on Earth to accomplish something with your life; find out what that is and live it out.  Time really is too short to waste on useless and selfish dreams!  I remember 40 like it was a minute ago; now I’m going on 67 years of age.  It really does move fast!  Invest in yourself, invest in others.  Have the courage and tenacity to find out what real truth is, not what some website or media outlet tells you it is.  Don’t ever let anyone tell you that someone is your enemy because they believe differently than you do.  You’ll cheat yourself by doing so.  Be independent!  Check out the facts.  Get to know the person, stranger or neighbor.  Who knows how they will bless your life or you will bless theirs!  Blaze a trail of love from your heart, to your front door, into your community and city, and into the world.  Put aside factions and politics.  Remember why we’re all here on this little world.  Risk loving, even when it hurts (especially when you’re feeling the pain), because glory and dreams are on the other side of that wall of reluctance.  Put the past to rest.  Recover your soul and spirit.  Be fully in the moment; and when you forget to be, just get “back on the train.”  They’ll wait.  Forge the future with the iron of your spirit, the sweat of your brow, the muscle of your hand and heart.  Bring together people with differences and listen; don’t divide.  Humanity is born whole.  We are not meant to be divided!  Lastly, remember your moment will come; that day or night when your breath comes hard and your spirit yearns to be free of the body.  Live for that threshold.  Look into eternity while you’re alive, so you’ll know what to do when you arrive there.  You’ll want to have no regrets.  You’ll want the companionship of those who love you.  You’ll want to know you made a difference.  Like the trails you love to hike, take up the burden of the pack of daily living and move out.  There’s wonder and awe ahead of you.  Just waiting around the bend…

Love, Timothy

The Importance of That Which Has an End

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One of the most sublime things about the Appalachian Trail is that — it ends.  In begins in Maine (or Georgia, depending on where you start), and it unravels for over 2,000 miles.

There were countless times I wished it would surpass its mileage limit and continue on, unfolding forever into a far horizon so my vibrant young self could trek forever.  Yet, endings are so very important; containers in which we nest our hopes and dreams and accomplishments for safekeeping — and for the future.

Now, many years down the “trail of life” since my hike in 1985, I have found all the memories of that exploit sustain my heart and spirit; bittersweet at times, but oh so vivid!

The sight of delicate bluets alongside the trail during the early days of May when the hike had just begun.  The cooling breeze emanating from standing near a crystalline waterfall on a blistering summer day.

 

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The lazy purling water of a glittering Maine river on an autumn afternoon.  Numerous sunsets, each unique, each its own benediction to the day.  The memory of writing the adventures down in my journal.

Photo by David & Christine Boozer on Pexels.com

The many laughs and tales with fellow travelers by the night-time fireside.  The curious and informative entries of hikers from the world over in trail registers.  The outreach of smiling “trail angels.”  The respite in many towns and cities along the seaboard through which the trail runs.  The grace of rides given into town.

All these, and more, populate my mind today, as clear as if they happened just yesterday.   And, in my heart, they did.  They still do, because the movie of my recollections continues to re-run this one outstanding experience of my lifetime.  But, if it had never come to its end I wouldn’t have the gift inside me to unwrap during times when I need to get away.

So, you see, the ending is important.  Without an end to the trail the joys of the hike cannot curl up into my soul to find a home in which, when the time is right, they can come powerfully alive again.  It’s then they most nurture me and bless my life.

Photo by Andy Vu on Pexels.com

So that I can say — “Yes, I did that!  I hiked the Appalachian Trail.  The memories and experience are mine to treasure and keep until I stand at the final trailhead.”

They are a story nestled within the larger drama of my life — one which still holds deep meaning — that began with something which has an end.

You get a different life

“When you put a drop of red dye into a glass of water, you do not get a glass of water with a drop of red dye in it; you get a red glass of water.” Uh, OK, so what’s that got to do with hiking the Appalachian Trail? Read and find out!

Write in Front of Me

Photo courtesy amish.patel at Flickr

I recently ran my eye over this comment: “Neil Postman has an analogy along the lines of what you’re saying about giving forethought to your use of a new technology: ‘When you put a drop of red dye into a glass of water, you do not get a glass of water with a drop of red dye in it; you get a red glass of water…’”

Nowadays, we’re disposed to leap on anything “new” like a jaguar on a capybara.  Why do we do this?  Why do we glom onto the latest thing without considering the consequences to our lives?  All of us are trying to employ some command over our lives and we do this by making what we believe are wise decisions.  Yet the truth is that we are swamped with tidal waves of options, more than we can manage.  It seems to…

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