As the time draws near for me to step-off, the reality of being gone for a month is beginning to sink in. Routine things like paying bills, adding chlorine to the septic tanks, bathing the dog, and checking the mail have to be addressed. Of course it helps to have a family that will take care of things while I’m gone. The minutiae of daily life reminds me of the story of Martha and Mary in the New Testament. You see, I’m more prone to be a Martha, distracted by the preparations of the day with my head turned down to the things of the world, rather than looking up to God, to the one thing that really matters. This is why I’m looking so much forward to this trip. I will have an extended period of time, really the longest in my life, to step out of the details of the world and concentrate on my mental, physical, and spiritual health without the worry of the day-to-day.
It also makes me consider time. The last 30 years of work haven’t seemed that long. I’ve gotten married, raised five kids, earned two advanced degrees, and held leadership positions with half a dozen organizations. I’ve accomplished everything I set out to do professionally . Yet, I don’t feel that old. For the first time since graduating from college, I won’t have a full-time “nine to five” job. My situation has changed. I’ll have more time to do other things. But my mind always seems to turn back to the trail.
When you’re out there, your mind, body, and soul reset. I always notice it after about a week when I start to get emotional. I’ve described it to my wife as “my heart learning to beat again.” Little things and memories feel much deeper. I think about people I love and those I’ve lost. I sense the world around me differently – the smell of the earth after a sudden shower, the warmth of a sunbeam on my arm stabbing through the dense canopy. It feels like my spirit is a bottle being uncorked.
Don’t get me wrong – hiking is hard. Hiking is “deprivation,” which is why new hikers almost always have one of two reactions to long-distance backpacking. Some “embrace the suck” and get what it’s all about. They’ll be back. Others, when you ask them about their experience reply, “It’s not what I expected.” Well, what did you expect? Here’s hiking in a nutshell: you wake up, walk, eat, walk some more, eat, sleep, wake up and walk some more – simplicity itself. But when you return to the real world, you see things differently, and long to get back to it.