I wrote the hiking and adventure parts of this post a long time ago and never got around to editing it. However, I reread it today and it still rang true. In fact, a piece of me misses this past empowered feeling version of Sam, so I decided to share.
Today is a beautiful fall day in Georgia. The kind that makes me long for a good hike or to sit on a picnic blanket with a group of good friends. There’s a perfect breeze in the air and gloomy clouds of yesterday have parted to reveal the bright sun. However, today’s post is about a hike I took in August, on a day where the air was dry and hot, but I felt just as alive.
I’ve been meaning to write this post for some time, the day on that mountain felt so profound and hopeful that I wanted to write something to hold on to that moment. As I picked up a book this morning that encouraged me to pounder a moment of joy, I thought of Utah and I thought of this hike. As the pastor encouraged the congregation (through my computer screen) to quiet the noise of the world and listen to the holy spirit, to get out into nature, I thought of my deep love of hikes.
Now dear reader, you may not be one for nature or hiking (although if you are reading this, you probably are); however, perhaps this post will encourage you to try it or its equivalent for you.
Why Solo Hiking?
I love a good hike, for oh so many reasons. My friend and I admitted to each other that our favorite hikes were solo ones. I cannot speak to her reasons, but mine are numerous. When one is walking alone, they can go at their own pace. They can stop when needing a breath or wishing to take in a view. There is no pressure to keep pace or slow down. There is no (or very little) embarrassment about breathing heavy or wanting to stare at an interesting tree.
Through years of media, P.E. classes, and social pressure; deep within me is an embarrassment around exercising. I never was the fastest person or thinnest person. I spent years embarrassed about my clothes and assuming I was unhealthy. I was never taught to feel my heart pounding, deep breathing, and legs shaking as a testemant to how much our bodies can do or as a collaboration of science and creation that sustains life.
I was taught that those were signs of not being in shape, not being fit enough, or in essence not being good “enough”. I’m not blaming anyone; I am merely acknowledging that the U.S. is deeply embedded in diet culture. A culture that assumes shame will cause change (or at least cause the desire to purchase products that promise change). A culture that aligns thinness with health and in a weird Catch 22 simultaneously judges “fat” people for exercising as well as for not. I am grateful that we live in an ever-changing world. One that has begun to recognize this harm. One that has begun to sell clothes in a wider range of sizes and celebrate people who look different. However, I would be lying to say that the culture has totally changed and that all harm has been lost. I’m still working on it and learning, and I still love a good solo-hike. A hike where I can breathe deep the fresh air and push myself all the way to the top to see a lovely view. (I’ll tell you a secrete: I love going up more than down. Finding my footing among the rocks, hoisting my weight, using the momentum to keep going.)
Now the joy of exercising alone is not the only reason a solo-hike fills my soul. I love the adventure of it all: finding the path on my own, embarking on “uncharted” territory, feeling strong and whole in a world where it can be difficult to be strong and whole, the quiet, being alone with my thoughts, communing with God. In the woods, I feel the closest to who God created me to be. (When I’m not regretting choosing such a long hike).
What about safety? To be honest, I rarely feel unsafe on a hike. The likelihood that I will be attacked is much greater in a parking garage, and the likelihood I’ll get injured in an accident is much greater when driving or riding in a car. There are precautions, to be sure. A newbie hiker should start off small, one should make sure to listen to their body and not push too hard, check the weather, pick a well-traveled and wel-marked trail, etc.
However, I would be ying if I didn’t admit the feminist in me loves a good solo-hike. It reminds me how strong women are, we bear the weight of the world on our shoulders, the weight of emotions and hormones and childbirth, yet we have somehow bought into the lie that we are weak. Hiking reminds me, I am not weak. Sure solo-hiking is more dangerous that watching Netflix. But is it really, when one thinks of the soul benefits of a good hike? Life is dangerous. As a Christian, I am baffled a bit by the desire to live in complete safety. God calls us live in risk, to follow him and we will not be alone (not that we will be safe). For me that means, moving across the country, visiting a new city, starting a new career path, and yes indulging in a good solo-hike. It wasn’t until my therapist told me that the Holy Spirit draws us into risk, so that we may trust him, that I made that connection to my adventurous spirit. There’s so much freedom in knowing that my longing for adventure is a gift, a virtue, and not a vice. So next time someone young tells you they like a good solo-hike, maybe quiet your nerves and ask them what’s their favorite part.
A Small Adventure
The Great Salt Lake smells, well terrible. It’s all the brine shrimp, the only thing that can live in its saltiness. The locals never swim in it because again the smell. However, my adventurous side decided it was a bucket list type thing. My friend graciously agreed to drive the long distance to the park despite not desiring to embark on this adventure herself.
When we got to the park we spent some time looking for buffalo and taking pictures. As it drew closer to sunset we walked over to the beach of Salt Lake. We were disgusted (and maybe a little fascinated) by the brine shrimp flies that flew away in a swarm as we approached. (I have a pretty awesome video where you can see them, but free WordPress won’t let me add it. Also, the creepiness was in the noise, which I was unable to capture).
Kirsten cheered me on from the safety of the shore as I waded in. To my disappointment the water never got deep, so had to settle for a shallow float. I did, however, feel the extra buoyancy given by the concentration salt and was fascinated to see the salt patterns form on my legs. I also felt the satisfaction of a small adventure accomplished.
Instagram Worthy Quotes
At the Seattle school, I’ve been learning a lot about mind-body dualism. Which is just a fancy way to say our world sees the mind as completely separate from the body, and as the body as the lesser of the two.
Through books like The Deepest Well and The Body Keeps the Score, I am learning that whatever is going on in our brains tends to show up through our bodies. (Did you know that Childhood trauma increases the likelihood of all sorts of diseases including cancer, strokes, heart attachks, and the like?)
In Christianity, this dualism is between the body and the spirit. Yet, as I reflect on my beliefs and the creation story, I can’t help but asking this question that Tina Schemer Sellers poses in her book God, and the Conservative Church: Erasing Shame from Sexual Intimacy: “What if the body’s experiences in the world are actual, bona fide means of divine communication, and the body, with all its desires, pleasures, pains, struggles, yearnings, challenges, climaxes, and difficulties, can lead us not further away from a fuller relationship with God but closer?”
Well, I could probably write a whole post about my thoughts surrounding this topic, but I will end it here.
That’s all for now folks, love ya, bye!.
My Life in A Variety of Places 