I wake up early on a Sunday after a restless night devoid of sleep and head to the mountains. My heart is heavy and I need caring for. My Mama Earth opens her door and greets me with the smile of new sun on young bright leaves. Up the hill, into the trees, and I am enveloped with a hug from the quiet canopy. Fresh flowers are in bloom with soft colors, and the stream is flowing with healthy, vibrant life. The jagged cliffs I miss so much stand tall and strong and look down on this child eager to be scooped up in her elder’s loving arms. I can take my time hiking. There is no rush, except for that of the steady water soothing, centering, and saying, “You are safe here.”
I climb up some rocks and grab a branch for support. It is smooth and worn down from the many passersby that frequent the trail. The instant my hand falls on the tree limb, I hear gently, “Lean on me. I am here for you.” Unexpectedly my heart is pierced with the words, and a coldness begins to thaw.
There is beauty all around as I journey up, then up some more upon reaching the end of the trail. I thank my dependable hands and feet for carrying me to new heights with a scramble high above the falls. I find my spot with views of grandeur and a sweet silence moved only by gentle wind. I pause, rest, breathe. Breathe some more. This time, the mountain’s whisper: “You belong. You can be yourself in this place.” I stay for a long time.
Sometimes you hike for the body, sometimes you hike for the soul.
