I’m escaping
Towards the end of May I went out on a hike. I wanted to leave my mind. I wanted to leave the thoughts of COVID and violence and just escape. I headed out to a trail that I had visited two years earlier. At least I thought that’s where I was heading. I recently saw a memory post on social media that pointed out this trail. I loved that trail. I figured it was time to go back and settle myself.
Only I didn’t go back. It turns out the name of the trail on my post is not the name of the trail that I had visited two years ago. So I wandered the roadway for a bit and found another trail. Initially the thing that struck me about this new trail was the sound of the water. It was thunderous! There was a creek rushing by- heavy from the snow runoff of the mountains behind it. The sound was front and center- it took away the sounds of roadway, conversation, anything that would have been hearable. The rush of the water also took away the thoughts in my head. All I heard was the water.
Oh and the view! The view of the water rushing was gorgeous. It humbled me. The view reminded me that water is powerful and bigger than anything that I can hold onto. It starts as a drop, but together as rushing water it is an enormous force not to be trifled with, I took many pictures of the water and they couldn’t capture what my eyes were seeing; the forceful frothiness of it all.
As I continued down the trail I noticed the sound of the water wane slightly. That’s when I noticed the sounds of the birds. So many birds were chirping their songs. They were in deep communication with each other. I imagined their minds were used to the sounds of the water and they just ignored it as they went about their days.
There were also amazing smells. I could smell the pine trees on the trail. As I took a deep breath the forty-five year old memories of summer camp came back to me. My life when my parents were alive and we lived together, my life before my first kiss, my first breakup, my first job, my first child, my world travel, COVID, and the recent racial tensions. I was reminded there were days I wanted to escape back then too.
As I continued down the path I felt like I had arrived. I was in the escape. I didn’t have to go back. I could stay here forever in this forest with the sound and sights of the water. I stopped taking pictures. The camera wasn’t ’t capturing all the beauty I could see- the sun dappling on the side of a tree, the squirrel on his hind legs looking for treats, the wind waving the branches of a fern. Oh the wind! As I ventured down the trail I could feel warm breezes brushing my arm. Then suddenly as the trail ventured closer to the creek the wind turned chilly bringing the coolness of the water along with it through the air.
The boulders on this trail were enormous! As I looked up and saw the rock walls of the mountains rising next to the creek- my view was interrupted by boulders. So many of them planted in the ground, there for thousands of years. Their weight and majesty was humbling compared to my little self walking on the trail.
About ninety minutes down the trail I was so enjoying my escape. At the same time I knew it was probably time to turn back. My legs enjoyed the journey out from the trailhead. As far as I had gone out I need to go back. When I feel pretty good ninety minutes out that doesn’t mean I will feel the same comfort returning another ninety minutes back. So it was time to return to the trailhead. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to return to the reality of life- the news, my todo list, the traffic. So my return was a savor. I savored the trees, the earth, the smells, and the sound of the rushing water. The trail was starting to get busy with mountain bikers and runners. I caught myself comparing myself to these athletes and reminded myself I was there doing my thing in my body and that was what mattered to me. I even found myself giving a little compassion to my escape. It’s okay to escape sometimes. I needed to escape to find the me that was connecting to the earth. I am more than the todo lists. The only one who knows when they don’t get done is me. Why do I need to prove to myself I can do them?
I thought about my daughter who was at my home working while she quarantined from the rest of the world. In a couple of weeks she will be leaving. For three months my world included her again and now she will go. My heart was bittersweet. While I enjoy living alone and having the life I want I will miss being able to see her everyday. With COVID when will I be seeing her again? When will I see my son who doesn’t live in Utah? The rest of my family? My heart felt heavy.
Suddenly from the trail I saw the Salt Lake Valley. I realized while I had escaped for a while I really hadn’t escaped. My world was very close by even if drowned out by the beauty of the forest and the sound of the water. I had disconnected for a while and that was okay. I was still living through a violent world, a pandemic world, and I will make it through. Lost on the trail I am not lost.