Memories that give strength and hope

A couple of things have come together in the last couple of days that have made me decide to try something new.  First, I have had comments from multiple people that there is so much pain in what I have written.  And there is, but really that isn’t all that there is in my life, it is just that the topics that I feel compelled to write about right now have a lot of pain associated.  Second, I have seen a bit of a buzz about the idea of including what you are grateful for in some form on your blog posts, which I think is a great idea.  Of course, I don’t want to just do a list, but I have to do it in a much more wordy manner! 

While I was on that walk in the woods earlier this week, I went into an area that I don’t normally go into.  To get into this area, I descended down a cliff to a part of the forest that is obviously much more mature than the more easily logged sections.  I reveled in the feel of a mature forest, the sounds of the birds, the motion of the squirrels as they teased my dog, the crunching sound of the leaves under my feet, the hint of a breeze on my skin, the earthy smells from the vegetation and soil, and the heart lifting sound of the river dancing over rocks.  And then, as I rounded a corner, I came across a scene of sunlight filtering through old pine trees, and a memory came back to me that was incredibly vivid.

This was a memory that I welcomed!  It was of a backpacking trip that my husband and I took many years ago in the Olympic Mountains of Washington State.  Entering the valley that we were going to work our way up, we walked for over a mile through old growth forest with these massive pines that towered over us, while listening to a river running near by the whole way.  It was a magical scene!  There is something about being in a forest that has never been logged that feels like it connects you to all that is good.  Many of my most spiritual moments have taken place when I am in the midst of the overwhelmingly beautiful natural world.  As I was walking through these trees, I was reminded of an earlier trip to see a friend in the Netherlands, and he had taken me to the cathedral in his city which was over a thousand years old.  Both places had the same sense of holiness, a feeling that you should keep your voice hushed and be reverent, because there was something so much greater than you present in that place.

Walking between those trees, I was awed by how immense they were.  I imagined what it would have been like to hear one of those living towers come crashing down in a storm, and marveled at the many, many growth rings that were exposed when a passage was cut through one of the trees.  I felt so small, but somehow it didn’t make me feel insignificant, just aware of how I am only a tiny part of this world, but still valuable in my own right.  Even now, sitting here, writing, it makes my heart fill with joy to bring back the details of this glorious passage through a magical world.

And this was only the first mile or two of this trip!  It was my first backpacking trip and my first time into the high mountains since I was a small child.  I wasn’t fully prepared for how backpacking is a mixture of the sublime and the agonizing (carrying a 40 pound pack up a 3,000 foot elevation gain over only 4 miles cannot help but be agonizing when you aren’t used to it!)  But what a lesson in how getting through something painful can have the most amazing awards!

After we finally made it to our camping site, exhausted, ravenous, and sweaty, we had the wonderful treat of finally taking those packs off.  When that burden is dropped, you feel so delightfully light!  We sat there, looking around at the mountains that surrounded us, listening to the quiet, and proud of the fact that there was no way to this little slice of heaven other than by getting there the hard way.  The sky was an amazing blue.  Even though we had to deal with voracious mosquitoes and hard beds, there is nothing like waking up in the early morning and opening up your tent to the light and air of the high mountains.  And I have to say that I was astonished to discover just how good instant oatmeal can taste when eaten in the right circumstances! 

Later that day, we left our camp and hiked further up, towards the small glacier at the top of the valley.  We passed the most astonishingly colored alpine lake, which was probably the most beautiful bright turquoise blue that I have ever seen, and made our way up as far as we could.  The day had turned hot, as we sat to eat our lunch and surveyed the amazing world around us, so we gave into the temptation to drink from the clear, fresh, and very cold water, as it was melting off the glacier.  Yes, it was a fool hardy thing to do, and I have since learned to always carry a water filter so I can safely drink that amazing water, but that water tasted better than anything I had drunk before!   

I am grateful beyond words for being reminded of a wonderful few days spent with an amazing man, in an extraordinary place.  I will always treasure that time.  Looking back, that trip was an important gift, because it was made the same summer that I started to work with Mama Bear, just as everything was starting to emerge.  Experiencing something that filled my soul and connected me with my strength had to have helped to sustain me through the next several months, which were very difficult indeed.  Yes, there can indeed be periods of amazing light and beauty, even during very dark times.