Day 69: Muir Meditations Revisited: Part 1

(Mile 942.5 to 959 = 16.5 miles)

John Muir, of all people, knew well the healing that comes
 from the natural world.

I was talking to a friend yesterday and telling him a bit about the realizations I had come to on Muir Pass.  He asked that I write him about it.  I said I would.  Hiking along today, I was writing in my head and decided I might just write it all here.  Moving fourteen hours a day, I have very little time to write.  No time for a blog and a letter.  And I thought that if he wanted to hear about my conclusions that afternoon, others might, too.  And who knows, perhaps one of our elders out there might have some perspective to share with the rest of us.

I had written earlier that one of the things I had hoped to work on this trip was self-assurance.  It is a bit hard to explain as I do not suffer from a lack of self-confidence.  Rather, it is that I feel like I am on the verge of being who I am supposed to be, living the life I am supposed to live in this world -- but that there is just one more river to cross, one more thing to learn before I am able to fully step in.  But it is as if there is something holding me back, preventing me.  I haven't known what exactly, but I have had the sense that it is a kind of self-assurance.  And on Muir Pass, I figured out what at least a part of it might be and what to do about it.

Gumby and I were nearly out of food, rationing one day's worth and scraps over three days.  Kindergarten Cop had just resupplied and offered to share that day, but I had declined.  He looked at me and smiled, "You'll help out others, but you won't accept help."  I smiled back and nodded.  He enjoys trying to figure people out. 

Soda springs enjoyed by generations.

But part way up the pass, I thought again and decided I should probably correct Kindergarten Cop.  Yes, I sometimes decline help even when I have just given it, but I don't always.  It is a way I can be, not a way I am.  Why should I correct him?  I have another friend who likes to figure people out.  And he, too, smiled and nodded as he drew conclusions about me.  All fair enough.  But when he took all of the conclusions together, he felt I was full of contradictions and that this was a problem.  That I must be lost and confused.  Majorly.  I listened and wondered briefly if I was.  And then decided I was not at all. 

But I cannot say my friend was completely off.  I am full of what seem to be contradictions.  And I often feel pulled in two directions.  And on Muir, I decided this could be a part of the self-assuredness issue.  There are often two sides of me, and I am constantly battling with myself, trying to decide which is right.  I have a hard time trusting one for I am aware of the other.  And I don't necessarily like the feeling of having both sides residing inside me.

What kinds of things do I mean?  Well, I am a shy, introvert by nature, but most never believe me.  Why?  Because as part of my job, I repeatedly present for groups of 30 to 200.  And I love the big crowds.  I'll take 110 over 20 any old day.  But ask me to walk up to a small table of my PCT peers, and I'll balk and try to shove someone else in front of me.  Likewise, I am a planner, driver, perfectionist in my work life and some of my leisure life.  But come a free Saturday, I do not want anything to do with a plan or a schedule.  I want it free and clear for whatever may come my way.  I clearly have a type-A somewhere in me, but I am also a passionate person and am almost always game to follow my heart; and yet, I remain practical, grounded, and quick to cut through bull.  Fairly confident and sometimes assertive, but an analyzer and as sensitive as they come.  Happy and optimistic, I fought years of depression in my late teens and early twenties -- both sides still reside in me.  You get the idea.

On Muir, I realized that these different sides were always pulling against each other, making me uneasy, uncertain, and sometimes unhappy.  And I also realized that, taken alone, I actually liked all of the different sides.  I enjoy my peaceful introversion as much as my gregarious extroversion.  I love planning and driving as much as I love chaos and freedom.  Passion as much as practicality.  Confidence as much as sensitivity.  Happiness as well as dark seriousness.  I really wouldn't give any of them up if I didn't have to.  Who is asking me to, after all?

Sometimes, it is as simple as sitting and watching
water flow over rocks, soaking in those negative ions.

And that's when I thought that perhaps it was as simple as just giving up the fighting.  The battling one side against the other, the fighting one trait for the other.  What would happen if I just let them all be?  Warmly embraced each equally?  And that is what I decided to try to do.  I don't know what it is going to look like or if it'll work, but it is my new plan. 

The plan is vague to non-existing, but elements of the plan are trust, faith, and letting go.  Trusting myself and whichever side of myself surfaces in a given situation.  Faith in the bigger picture, the greater plan for me in this world.  While the trust is personal, the faith rests outside of me -- it would be religious if I were, but since I am not, I look for, find, and take comfort in it from the natural world.  Letting go of my grip on the reigns of life and that tension that holding on too tight builds up inside.  And when the battle starts building, breathing deep and sending the fighters home.

It does all sound a little out there as I read over this, attempting to explain what happened as I hiked past meadow, creek, and lake on my way up Muir Pass.  But, all of this brought me peace that afternoon and is continuing to as I try to follow my vague, somewhat intangible, non-plan sort of plan.  So far, so good.  The next plan has to do with acceptance and relates to a discontentment that might just be the other part of that self-assuredness equation.  I pieced together a bit of that on Muir, too.  More on that later!