An Unexpected Adventure (Rewild Your Well-being, Part VI)
Photo by Will Africano on Unsplash
Have you ever made a decision to venture out of your comfort zone and then spent tons of energy to prepare yourself for it, only for plans to change? That’s exactly what happened to me a few months ago and today’s post is about preparing for an experience and what to do when it all goes awry.
You know how it works. You have an idea of a something monumental you really want to experience and you tuck it in the back of your mind. Maybe it’s a place, like visiting the Taj Mahal, or a natural phenomenon, like witnessing the northern lights. Sometimes, it’s an activity, like running a marathon.
I find as I get older, it’s about doing the things I always wanted to do – while I still have the capacity to do them. That’s how an overnight backpacking trip rose to the top of my list. What better way to rewild my own well-being?
I’m sixty-one. And while I hope to be able to hike and backpack for decades, you never know. It gets real when you hit that 60 year mark. So when the opportunity to join a small group of women on a backpacking excursion arose this summer, I jumped on it.
The decision to take on such a trip wasn’t just about going, it was also about committing to the process of preparing. And like any former corporate professional, I love a good plan. But this time, the preparation was far more than logistics, because being out in the wilderness doesn’t come naturally. I spent my early years in a concrete city about a mile from Manhattan. So a big part of preparing was a conscious practice of aligning my mindset with the task at hand.
The preparation fell into three categories, each with its own lessons:
The Lesson of Durability: This was the easiest of the three. I’ve been building functional strength and endurance at CrossFit, during my runs, and on the hiking trails, so I felt I had the ability to carry a weighted pack over uneven ground. Even so, I never tried hiking for miles with significant weight on my back, including gear, food and water.
The Lesson of Essentialism: I spent hours researching the gear I needed, with the intent to buy the minimum needed for this experiment. Even though I spent years on airplanes armed only with carry-ons, I’m a chronic over packer. But the main principle of backpacking is that every ounce counts, since you’re responsible for hauling it. So for every item I considered, I had to ask if it was truly necessary for survival and well-being – and was it designed for a backpacking trip? In addition, I had to shed the metaphorical weight of outdated beliefs and fears that would surface from time to time of what it would be like in the wilderness at night.
The Lesson of Letting Go: As the trip drew near, I continued testing my gear, walking with a loaded backpack, and planning for contingencies. I kept an eye on the weather and was thrilled that the forecast looked perfect – no rain and temperatures in the 60s and 70s – just perfect. As the nervous anticipation built, I reminded myself that I had done all the preparation I could. I built the strength, invested the time, and learned how to organize my pack. Now it was about letting go, trusting the process, and enjoying the experience.
Three days before the trip, I got an email from the trip leader. She had a family emergency and had to cancel. I stood in my kitchen, looking at the email on my phone and then to foyer where all of my new backpacking gear was laid out, ready for the final assembly.
Photo by Karson Chan on Unsplash
A strange mix of emotions followed. First and foremost, empathy and compassion for the leader and the real life emergency she was dealing with. That was followed by a jolt of disappointment, like coming to screeching halt after running at top speed. And, if I’m honest, there was a little bit of relief, but not much.
All in all, I wanted to see if I could navigate an overnight backpacking trip and, more importantly, if I’d enjoy it. But the loss I felt was less about the trip itself, and more about not wanting to waste all the time and focused energy I had dedicated to preparing myself for it.
Instead of letting the cancellation set me back, I asked myself a critical question: “How can I use all this intentional energy I’ve created to define my own meaningful adventure?” I paced around the kitchen, wondering if there was a way to honor this effort, regardless of outcome.
The hiking group that was hosting the now-cancelled backpacking trip had an online calendar listing all of their outings. I pulled up the group’s website and, to my surprise, there was a six mile hike coordinated by another hiking leader on the day the backpacking trip was originally set to launch. I immediately reserved my spot. A plan was starting to coalesce
I woke up on the day the big trip was supposed to launch and felt excited to see what the day had in store. Driving into New York State in silence, I marveled at the morning light. The state park is more than 45,000 acres, so it took a while to navigate to the trailhead.
I was the first one to arrive, so I stretched my legs, meandering on the edge of a lake for a while. Then I double checked the contents of my day pack, which was so much lighter than the one I had planned to use for the day.
The hikers arrived one by one and we assembled, exchanging hugs and pleasantries. We spent a good portion of the day enjoying the trails and views. We even caught a glimpse of the Manhattan skyline 35 miles away.
One of the hikers was an experienced forager, so we also enjoyed wild blueberries and huckleberries along the way. I drove home smiling, reflecting on a wonderful day in the woods with friends and for what was ahead.
When I got home, I stayed in my hiking clothes, as if I were on a backpacking trip. I grabbed my heavy pack and found a suitable place on my property to pitch my tent. Once that was set, I inflated a thin sleeping pad and unrolled my sleeping bag. A backpacking chair completed the set-up.
Then I headed off to gather firewood and kindling. A lot of animals roam the woods that surround my home, including bears and coyotes, so I started a campfire as a deterrent. I wasn’t worried too much about the scent of food, since my rations consisted of pre-portioned backpacking meals that are rehydrated with boiling water.
That may not sound too inspiring, but I was excited about my dinner. I recently found a company, Good To-Go, that produces gourmet dehydrated meals for outdoor enthusiasts. I tried them earlier in the year when I was on a weeklong van trip, and I was impressed. As I set up my backpacking stove to boil the water, I remembered how hard it was to decide which meals to take with me – Cuban rice bowl, Pad Thai, pasta? I went with mushroom risotto. It seemed like eternity, waiting the 20 minutes for it to truly rehydrate. But the wait was worth it. Maybe it was the outdoors, or eating with a spork, or the excitement of trying something new – but the meal tasted fantastic, leaving me wanting more.
As the sun went down, the soundscape changed and the unexpected adventure began. I could see my house, but became more attuned to the noises of the night – the rustle of leaves, the call of an owl, the trill of the tree frogs. As the fire burned out, the first quarter moon made the constellations, along with Venus, Jupiter and Saturn, easily visible with the naked eye. These were the same stars and planets I would have seen had I been sitting with the backpacking group in the New York wilderness.
As I stared at the sky I realized how content I felt. I recalled the lyrics from a 1990s Bruce Cockburn song, Last Night of the World. The chorus asks: “If this were the last night of the world, what would I do that was different?”
Watching the glowing embers of the fire, I just allowed myself to feel a deep sense of peace that was not contingent on any external trip or circumstance. All the rewilding I yearned for was right there, in that moment – and it filled me with presence and gratitude.
Before turning in for the night, I unhooked the rain fly from the tent so I could continue to glance up at the sky. I settled in my sleeping, thinking about camp coffee and the Good To-Go granola that was waiting for me for breakfast. As I drifted off to sleep I was reminded, once again, that the true reward is never the destination. It’s who you become in the process.
Now to you. How can you apply this life lesson? The next time a life plan is unexpectedly derailed, I invite you to try a Response Reset, a brief practice designed to honor your effort and reap the internal rewards.
Here are the steps:
Acknowledge the Load: Feel the full effect and emotional burden of the disappointed and the potential wasted effort. Reflect on what is lost externally as a result of this change in plans.
Identify the Internal Opportunity: Now shift your focus to your preparation. What inner rewards were gained that can’t be lost? For me, it was the pull toward solitude and connection to the outdoors, along with the resilient creativity to find a new way. For you, it might be new skills, a new experience, or the courage you summoned to commit in the first place.
Chart Your Course: Use your internal reward to fuel your next action. Determine your options to redefine your challenge to move forward on your own terms. How can you create a meaningful adventure right here, right now?
This simple, intentional process moves you out of the emotional weight of loss and puts you back in your power, focused on forward momentum.
I hope this article has inspired you to do some discovering. If you’re curious or drawn to the outdoors and would like to explore your local trails or try an overnight excursion in your own backyard, I’ve created a resource to help.
Your Adventure Checklist will help you take the guesswork out of preparation. It includes everything I take on a day hike and all that’s needed for an overnight backpacking trip. You can download the PDF for free at AthenaWellness.com/outdoors.
Use this list to spark and support your own unexpected adventure. And remember, a wonderful way to rewild your spirit can literally be found in your own backyard!
Journal Reflections: What internal reward from a past missed opportunity can you use for fuel today? Which step of the Response Reset is hardest for you and why? How can you create a meaningful adventure in your life, right here and now?
Links:
Free PDF: Your Adventure Checklist
YouTube: The Athena Wellness Channel
Work with Kathy: Coaching Opportunities
Email Kathy: hello@athenawellness.com