A couple of days ago, I did it. I. DID. IT. The entire Burke Lake. I have to admit, that last .3mi seemed a little more alone than it needed to be. Especially when I have my partner's worries hanging over me. Are there other people on the path? Did you bring the red bag (fanny pack with the bear spray)? I run into patches where a most welcome silence greets my morning monkey brain. What I savor most about my mindful hikes is going to my place of Alone, where I can be . . . just me. My customary woodsbath soothes me as does treading for miles with no other reason to experience that I am powerful. In that moment, I bear witness to my very own wild like Cheryl Strayed.
In my place of Alone, I exercise my emotional courage. I say a prayer for a newly eloped cousin and his love. Most recently I wander through holiday memories of loved ones, usually my Dad or best friend who are way beyond the fall's oyster blue sky that hovers above the deep roots that remind me to be brave and to keep rising up.
So tomorrow once again, I will rise up . . . rooted.
