From the mountains, today

I was on a walk on a new-to-me trail over the weekend. A trail I'd walked past, but never taken, maybe 50 times. Maybe more. But this weekend, I decided to make my way down this trail I’d passed over and over again. Year after year. Season after season.

My favorite hiking partners were with me. My husband and my dog. The three of us have hiked many (many) trails together over the years.

But not this one. About a mile in, we realized we hadn’t passed a single person. In fact, the entire hike, we passed a total of three people.

We were literally on the road less traveled.

And on the walk, in the deep woods, along the glistening, gleaming streams. Peace.
Quiet.

And a deep feeling of gratitude. It hits me regularly how fortunate I am to live where I do, on the first ridge of the Blue Ridge Mountains. With the mountains all around me, begging me to slow down. Take a walk. Enjoy the day. Revel in nature.

I lived here, in Western North Carolina, as a kid, and I felt it even then. And when I lived in Venezuela, on a trip to Valencia, which borders the Andean mountain range, I felt it there, too. My heart’s deep longing to be in nature. To be immersed in it. To be swallowed by it.

Especially when things are hard. And things are hard right now.

On all fronts. In Venezuela. Here in the US. In the workplace. In my heart.

But this weekend, on a new trail in the forest not 5 miles from my home, our little trio was swallowed up by a pristine forest on a trail we’d never walked before. So quiet and so cold that we felt confident in letting our dog off his leash to run free. Certain beyond doubt that the bears, in their winter torpor, wouldn’t be a worry.

So we let Clyde off his leash.

And when we did, his joy and exuberance was stunning. Running free at full speed with absolute joy. It struck me: that’s freedom in the right place at the right time.

And then, on the heels of that realization: that’s what too many of us are missing.

That feeling of right place, right time, completely unfettered. It’s rare.

But when you get it? It’s thrilling. It’s LIVING.

Explore the new trail. Take the leash off. Run free in the spaces that bring you joy. Today. Or, I suppose tomorrow.

Mostly, don’t hold joy hostage as a reward for hard work.