The journey of travelling the terrain
Why is it when we talk about our “journey” in life we think about the journey being along a paved, asphalt road with lines….or a well worn path through a sunny lit forest….
Or when we travel somewhere and plug in the address or destination into the GPS or mapping device, and it maps out the route, that it guides us along marked paths. But I have to wonder, as much as we travel, do we ever really consider the topography of where we are going?
My husband is a trail runner. Mountains are his thing. They always have been calling him. From when we used to snowboard and now when he scales the summits. For me, I love the big sky of the open prairies along with the mountains off in the horizon. But as clear as both of them may seem when you draw them on a page, you definitely miss out on the rise and fall of the elevations and valleys and hills along the way. It’s simple! Mountains go up and prairies are flat, right? And for years my hubby would “scoff” at being able to look off in the distance and nothing would be standing up out of it...until he got on the trails a few years ago and found the dips and twists and winded ways in which he would have to navigate to get through on the other side….all while being in the prairies. And I have often visited both the valleys and dips and “flat” forests as well as the mountain ascents, so for me, I recognized that there was a lot more to experience from both than a generalized stick drawing or a flat road map with no topographical details. I enjoy navigating and I often anticipate that there will be a hill to climb or a valley to go down into to climb out of on the other side.
There has been MUCH beauty that has been revealed as we discovered these gems along the paths we have travelled. As a child, I had a secret garden in the forest that has stuck in my mind ever since...even though it got bulldozed and cleared….for visibility purposes :( alongside a major roadway that invaded the terrain with its intention over 25+ years ago. The flowers and the thickness of the moss from the pine trees, the sun that was able to cut in through the canopy and light up the azaleas in this patch in the forest that was home to a large family of rabbits. We would go and picnic there when we took our dog for a walk. Never did show my mom or dad this space...just me, my sisters, and our dog, Max. I write about this special space in a “flat” prairie not only because it’s gone, but because of its presence in my life still to this day. It lights me up just thinking about this opening of light through a dark forest. We hiked in through a farmers field just behind the houses of our community, and the path passed in through the deciduous trees of birch and aspen….a creek ran alongside the path for a bit and then we would follow the creek off to the left into the forest. We could see the thick pines and the dark dense space ahead, but first we would pass through the trees where there had been a fire….the bark was as charcoal for some and others with new growth but further up toward the canopy. The ground became softer as it got more mossy and less grassy through the trees...we were now among the pines and spruces. Some were toppled over and we would have to climb over and under to get through. It then got a bit closer between the trees and bit darker...we knew we were close….and the way to find it was to look up a bit toward the canopy and look for the light…. Then I had to look down again into the dark and dense trees to sure my footing. As we continued toward the light in the canopy the flowers started….sparsely and then like a “pop”, we were there, in our little magical garden in the forest which looked like no one else had passed through aside from the rabbits who made their home there.
The analogies alone in the “direction” and passage through to this secret space is so metaphorical and still forged in my mind is the “map” to follow to get through to this space I hold dear. It was like a heart space in the midst of all that was around it.
The reason I write this today is because I was looking up a word in Japanese and as I scrolled through the list of words that were similar, I saw a word that was described in English as being “descent, fall, depression and landing”. Almost automatically I went to thinking about the mental health label of “depression”….I thought about the falling of angels…...but then the last word caught me and grounded it all...landing. I was immediately brought to the image of a green terrain with valleys and hills with a flat meadow and plateau...and I was looking out over it all.
We often hear described a plateau as a point in our lives as being “stuck”, and not being able to get to where we want to go more easily. We often hear the association of a “fall” as a loss financially or coming off the “wagon” as we head toward a goal. And depression not as a dip or a valley within the unknown horizon, but as a dark thing that we must run from and change quickly instead of recognize that it is a part of growing and living life, and choosing to journey through it.
I just really feel, that back in the day, when they travelled more by foot, animal, and wagon, and had to consider these things along the way in order to travel to where they were going, that they often didn’t exasperate on whether or not someone was in a mental slump or not seeing the growth they were expecting in their lives and stopped everything in order to clear its pain and anguish. Would they have considered it something that they all experience as a normal thing from time to time? And even though, as shared in the book of Job, when he did experience great loss and calamity, and he was in a low place, his “journey” through his faith took him through some deep considerations, and conversations with and about God that he probably didn’t have before that time, even though he was consistent and wholehearted in his faith before all that “fell” upon him.
How often do we allow the “terrain” of our life to be an aspect of the journey (albeit unknown terrain)? How often do we consider that we will have to descend from heights and walk through depressions, and stand for a moment on landings in the landscape to consider how far we have come and to view out on the potential of what lies ahead?
As our family went for a mountain hike this past summer, I anticipated that much of it would be an ascent...it was a mountain after all, and we have travelled some of the way before. That there would be much climbing and that did not float my boat as much as it did for my hubby. I was recovering from injury and nothing I had to help manage it seemed to be working… it was very difficult for me, both physically and mentally. I was mad at the fact that I couldn’t just “climb” and hike as I was used to remembering...not just being out of practice, but more out of alignment. When we had gotten to the lake at the top, I rested. The boys continued on with their dad around the lake and I chose to stay put as best I could.
We didn’t anticipate the flesh eating flies that were there LOL, in and around this cold mountain lake in the middle of the summer, but why not? Why not expect things to be beyond what we expected the picture to be….it’s mainly unknown terrain anyway. And as we set out to head back down, I was almost elated. The descent for me was much more welcome than the climb, even though the views and beautiful things along the way, in either direction, were so cool to witness and some to capture in pictures. But how can we really capture the moment for others to experience as we did? The river we crossed going up was much nicer to see on the climb than as we came back across it, but who would know from the picture that the light sparkled more through the water and we got to cool off from the water on the way up. Mainly from the sharing of our journey can we light up those details for others. How we responded to the different levels of terrain through our journey can really help others to navigate in a similar way.
SO as we “go” through our days and months and years traversing our “landscape” in life, maybe, just maybe, we can consider and accept the adventure of the unknown terrains….and even though we may prefer one over the other, all are present and all are for us to go through in some way, in order to get to where it is that we have decided we are getting to. There is a bigger picture to our landscape, and in order for the picture to be complete, all pieces are there for our fuller experience and growth. And as we go through and experience for ourselves, remembering that our journey is a great gift to share with others as well. Don’t you think? ;)
