It’s hard to believe that it’s been almost a month since we stepped off the twelve inch wide path of the Pacific Crest Trail. It seems as if time goes by much faster in civilized life than it does on a wilderness adventure like the one we just had. You are no longer pressed for time and miles. Each day effortlessly blends into the next one with ease and comfort. You go to sleep in a temperature controlled room and wake up in a nice comfortable bed with hot coffee nearby. No need to deflate the air mattress and fold up the tent; simply place your feet on the soft carpet, stand up, and welcome in the new day.
I’ve thought about the trail everyday since we’ve stopped. It’s been hard not to. In many ways it seems like it never happened, as if it were some amazing dream, one that you don’t care to wake up from. But my eyelids have retracted, the sleep dust washed clean out of the corner of my eyes, and the pillow where my head had rested for five months lay empty and blank. All that remains is the fleeting thought of that dream, surreal and imagined, hard to comprehend, and something only half tangible, like a person mumbling a song that is strangely familiar yet frustratingly foreign.
Despite all of this, the dream is still fresh in my mind. I can clearly see certain vistas and camp sites; conversations with other hikers; a particular spring where we collected water; a vivid purple flower; a highway crossing; a subtle smile. And like all good dreams, you wonder why they existed at all and what hidden messages may lay within their folds.
I read a psychology book recently called “Flow” which talks about optimal experiences, that is, experiences that people undergo that provide immense enjoyment, like a rock climber ascending a peak, or a musician composing something beautiful, or a quilt maker constructing a work of art. The thing all of these people have in common is a “flow” experience, or an experience where they feel present, focused, and able to exercise a particular skill to the best of their abilities. While in this “flow”, time ceases to exist and they become absolutely immersed in the activity. And at the end, the act of doing something that challenges, gives purpose and meaning to their lives, regardless of any monetary or social gains, is sought out again and again simply because it makes these people feel satisfied and alive.
The most common misconception about thru-hiking is that it must certainly lead to some kind of “ah-ha!” moment. One where you finally have that singular mind blowing revelation about life and your purpose in the universe. But this never happened for me on the Appalachian Trail. It never happened on the Continental Divide Trail. And it never happened on the Pacific Crest Trail. I was surely supposed to have found the answer by now, right? I mean, I had walked over 7,000 miles. How much further did I need to walk to find this elusive enlightenment?
I struggled with this for a while. What did these experiences mean? They must surely have meant something. Throughout the book, I kept making parallels about flow to long distance hiking. And that’s when it hit me. These adventures didn’t need to mean anything. They existed as singular experiences that were immensely enjoyable and satisfying at the time. And that was really it. They needed no justification or outcome- they simply were things that I had done that provided meaning and enjoyment to my life.
The so called revelation had been in front of me this whole time and I had foolishly missed it. Why else would I have continued to seek out these experiences again and again if it were not for the simple reason that I found them enjoyable and worth the effort?
Flow can taken on many forms. Long distance hiking and possibly to the same extent long distance running are just a few things that put me in that experience. But it is different for everyone and comes in many shapes and forms. It can be as simple as reading a good book that provides new perspective on a certain topic, or as complex as mastering a new language. We must always continue to challenge ourselves by trying to master skills we already have as well as delving into something new and perhaps scary.
You do not need to hike 7000 miles to find personal fulfillment. At the end of the the day, this is what we are all searching for anyway. Find what makes time cease to exist. You may discover your answer in that space. I don’t know if I’ve arrived and I probably never will. But at least I tried.
That’s all I can hope to have accomplished. And that’s enough for me.
Nice reflection. From reading your posts as well as doing my own self-reading/reflecting I would say a lesson that could be learn is that there is a difference between being “alive” and “living”. Being “alive” is taking on something you are passionate about or something you want to be “great” at an do everything in your power to achieve this/these goal(s). Courage is not the absence of fear, but the willingness to achieve your goal(s) in the presence of fear. While “living” is just going through life to just do the bare minimum because an individual can’t get our of their own way, these types of people often say “life is too hard.” While I think it is a privilege to live under pressure in order to achieve my goals. I like to think of myself as a piece of iron, I keep putting myself in the fire and hammering out the kinks for as long as I can to sharpen my edge through life.
There are many different metaphors or messages through life that essential say the same thing. We have all heard there are two types of people in the world, The wolf and the The sheep. Your actions will dictate which you are. We all can’t be wolves, or else there would be no one to lead. However, I like to think there are 3 types of people, The Wolf, The Sheep, and The Sheep-dog. I like to think of myself as a Sheep-dog the one who serves and protects the Sheep from the greed of the Wolf; for “greatness” is measured by the amount of people you can “serve”. (My opinion of course)
If you are not working to pursue your own goals/dreams you are just an employee helping someone else reach theirs.
Nice input, Mike. Spot on!