Who wants to say “I lived my life by someone else’s plan”?
Its Day 10 of a 19-day 230 miles hike on the John Muir Trail. My brother and I are sitting under some small pines. My left ankle swollen, and my heart is aching. We spent the last two days increasing our pace and distance. The objective was to shorten the remaining duration of the hike by a day, from 9 to 8 days. This would necessitate adding 15 miles from the last day to the other remaining days. In addition to the extra mileage the other complicating factor was the limited options for acceptable tent sites below 10,000 feet for the comfort of sleeping. As you can imagine above tree line and on the side of a slope there are limited spaces that could accommodate the two of us and our gear. The reason we took on these complications was a change of mind regarding the exorbitant Uber charge back to Los Angeles that was added because we were ending on a Sunday as well as some other rationale.
Sitting there I am close to tears, for the hike we had been planning for two years was changing into something else. During planning we had talked about the priority being taking our time to dawdle when moved, to pay attention to our surroundings, and our internal experiences. We were on a journey for internal peace and to be receptive for what was available. Shortening our hike moved us into focus on distance and time. Narrowed our focus to the trail in front of us and away from the giants around us.
I had resolved to stop moving at this pace but had not yet discussed this with my brother. I reasoned he could have at least two different responses to my resolve. One of which would be rejection and mean we would separate finishing on Mt Whitney alone. The other would be agreement to craft an alternative plan.
The thought of the loss of our shared celebration brought the lump to my throat and had reasoned on my own of this being a likely choice by my brother. However, I was more committed to the hike I had planned, those moments tied to each step, than to the one moment of celebration at the end. So, I spoke up and voiced my displeasure with the change, my resolve to follow the hike we had talked about even if that meant doing the remaining on my own.
I spoke up to advocate for my plan, my future, for me. This was possible because I was clear why I was taking this hike. I was able to tell when plans were changing and to make a choice. It would have been easy to have accepted the change to go along with one of the normal criteria for a hike, that of getting to the end. To have cowed to my older brother’s wishes and reason again.
When have you gotten to the end of your project, activity, or trip and realized there was a change or a missed opportunity? Do you worry this could be happening now at work, at home, with your kids, with your life?
A Trail Guide is one resource available to hikers to help them to plan their adventure. The good ones give information and pose useful questions to consider. The better informed about all aspects internal and external, the easier it will be to have the adventure you desire. How might you bring this into your life? Choose any horizon, the next job, the next career, the empty nest years, or even retirement?
Asking the question about how you want to feel doing whatever it is you are looking forward to doing increases the possibility of actually experiencing that feeling. Take time to paint a picture for yourself. Envision what it feels like doing the activity, who is sharing it with you, and where would it be enjoyable to do this? What could you add to any part of this painting to increase your excitement or joy of the possibility of living this? Start there. Plan from this experience.
Had I not done this exercise I would have missed the opportunity in this hike to hike my hike. The picture with my brother at the top of the world marks a stellar achievement in my life. It’s a connection to all those moments walking among those giants, breathing their air, and drinking their water. Giving me access to a depth and breadth of who I am and growing my relationship with my brother. This is what is possible with thoughtful planning and commitment to myself.
