This weekend I went camping, an activity I generally enjoy. As I packed my bikini, camouflage skirt, and a few colorful bandanas, I remembered some highlights from camping trips past: lounging by the lake, drinking beer while playing volleyball, sharing way too much information during fireside Truth or Dare after overindulging in vodka drinks and smores. Yes, I fantasized about sloth and excess. No, the past did not repeat itself.
Unbeknownst to me, I’d gone camping with true outdoorsmen. Men who pee around the tent to keep bears at bay, and are prepared to use bear mace if that doesn’t work. Men who fish for dinner, and hit the sack well before midnight anticipating an early-morning 11-mile hike—the day after trekking 3,000 feet up an inactive volcano. Though I wasn’t expecting such strenuous activity, I knew I had to rise to the challenges. I had three powerful motivators:
Guilt. My boyfriend brought me on a trip meant to be just him and his buddy. I’d feel horrible if I altered their plans.
Pride. I’d rather endure shin splints and near suffocation while fearing death by bear attack than admit I have the cardiovascular health of a seventy-year old.
Determination. Show me something you think I can’t do and I’ll show you a woman who’ll succeed or die trying.
The volcano hike was difficult. I started huffing and puffing soon after we began; and within the first hour, twisted an ankle and pinched a nerve in my left knee. Still I made it to the top without whining even once, and even managed to snap a picture of E and Joe with my frozen, numb fingers. Day two—now that was a different story.
I was uncomfortable from the get-go. My joints hurt, my ankles felt weak, and I was exhausted from a sleepless night on rocky ground. Compound that with my resistance to exertion, disdain for mosquitoes, and paralyzing fear of bears brought on by the movie Grizzly Man and you have a recipe for disaster—or transformation. I’m sure you saw that coming.
Joe moved close to his natural pace, while E tried to stick with me. Although I didn’t complain much out loud—a point I belabored all through the hike, as if convincing my boyfriend I deserved a medal—my internal monologue was downright maddening. It went a little something like this.
“My leg hurts. I don’t want to keep going. I might get eaten by a bear. The scenery all looks the same. I can’t even look at the scenery. If I take my eyes off the ground I might trip and I don’t have insurance. You’re supposed to be a positive thinker; think positively. I’m positive leg surgery will be expensive. Ok, focus. I am focused—focused on how much I really hate mosquito bites and strongly dislike bears. Stop it. You’re not seeing the good in this situation. There is none. There is—you’re with someone you love. OK, I can work with that.”
Then I focused on him.
“So what do you enjoy about hiking? Do you think the scenery looks different from one hour to the next? Have you ever been close to a bear? Do you think a bear would eat us if he wasn’t hungry? How come the mosquitoes don’t bother you? Want to play a hiking game?”
I know—he’s the one who deserved a medal. Though he humored and complimented me many times in those five hours, here’s my favorite thing he said to me all day:
“You say you want to be more present. Why not work on that right now.”
I admit, at first I felt defensive, as though he were condescending me. But then I realized he had a great point.
I talk and write a lot about ideal ways to be and think, but the truth is I have to really work at those things. My natural instincts aren’t always to be positive, present, and peaceful. Many times, just like during this hike, I choose to struggle instead of quieting my racing thoughts and enjoying what’s right in front of me; I fill silence with chatter instead of growing in stillness; I resist discomfort instead of accepting it and shifting my attention to the better parts of an experience. And worst of all, I pride myself on this type of self awareness, and—considering it effort enough—justify inertia and stagnancy.
Right then I knew I had a choice to channel my awareness into change.
I’d like to say the rest of the hike was an enlightened experience, but that would be a lie. For the remaining miles I teetered between acceptance and resistance, enjoyment and displeasure, worrying and relaxing, silence and babbling. But most importantly, I walked by slowly when we saw a bear 15 feet away instead of running, like I’d raced from the present for much of the day. If I reacted as I often do I may be telling a different story. Or worse, not telling one at all.
That’s how change works. You don’t make an instantaneous transformation and then enjoy enduring results; instead you identify an area where you’d like to see improvement and then recommit to that choice moment-by-moment. Some times you’ll succeed, some times you’ll fail—but hopefully, you’ll impress yourself when it really counts, and motivate yourself to keep working at it.
I want to be that peaceful person who keeps moving and enjoys the journey. Someone who doesn’t worry about a bear, but deals with it calmly if and when that time comes. I’ve started many times before. I’m starting again right now.
By Lori Deschene
This was different than my usual post. I’m curious what you think. Did you enjoy reading something more personal? If I wrote more of these first-person accounts, would you be interested in reading?
Tags: bear, camping, change, hiking, transformation
I found this post interesting and I like the personal thing. I’d read more, especially if they involved bears. Cause bears are pretty awesome.
I loved this post, Lori. There’s a load of truth in it and the honesty of what you were experiencing was engaging because it rings true for so many of us.
I enjoyed it. Stories like this make sense, because this is your blog, after all, and a personal account of how you “saw good” reinforces the overall theme of the blog (i.e., you walk the walk, as it were).
I found this first person account dealing with becoming more present and mindful, absolutely delightful. I can totally relate to you in this passage and would love to read more like it. Thank you for this.
Hi, it takes a lot of courage to admit your challenges or weaknesses and share in the experience of overcoming them. Wish you all the best on your next trip, and this journey of life is also a “hiking trip in a dense forest.”
Angus~ Thanks! And despite my paralyzing fear, I agree bears are pretty awesome.
Madison~ I’m so glad to read that. It’s a little scary to admit weakness, but it feels liberating to do it. I write this blog based on how I want to be, and I do my best–but it’s by no means natural or easy for me.
Ken~ Excellent! I was hoping that would be the case. I’ve written a lot of “how-to” posts and lists. I know people enjoy those because they can apply them to their lives; and I wasn’t sure if something like this was too self-indulgent. Thanks so much for offering your feedback.
Bunni~ Thank you! I really enjoyed writing this, and I look forward to creating more posts like it. Thank you again for reading =)
Manjit~ Somehow admitting weakness feels empowering–like it gives me permission to be human. I really appreciate what you wrote…and what a perfect analogy!
I love this post b/c it came as perfect timing. I had a horrible day of too little too late. I was able to see every small victory I could have banked, but for some reason couldn’t today. I wanted to just be held b/c sometimes I get tired in so many ways…many ironically in the process of “seeing good.”
When I read you’re post I realized how much work it takes to be that beacon of optimism. How optimism doesn’t preclude dealing with the vicissitudes of life. How what I was going through we all go through. A lot happens behind our smiles that many just don’t see.
So thank you for your post. Thank you for reminding me loving life and all it offers is hard work, but worth every ounce of the blood, sweat and tears.
Happy Monday!
Lori – the personal element worked well because many folks wonder whether people who write about the need to be in the present, to focus on the positive, to be grateful, etc., are able to walk the talk. It was effective to hear the real human reactions that you felt, but then how you used your own message to work through it. Well done.
Hi Lori,
I could relate so much to your experience. A couple of years ago, I joined my husband on a camping trip with his friend and they were both really experienced and I was not. It was a challenge and it was quite funny at times especially when I would make the joke that God created hotels for a reason. I hated it at first but then found a way to just make the best out of it. So you are not alone. Plus, I think guys enjoying camping more because they can use the bathroom standing up.
As for your question, just do whatever feels right to you. You write beautifully.
My camping experiences are more similar to your “usual” camping experience (Smores, burgers, booze, etc). I did also have one similar to your recent one when I went & hiked in Death Valley, but it was less hard core & I don’t think there are big preditors there if I am not mistaken. I get out of breath pretty fast when hiking (few times I do it). Sounds like it would have been a really hard experience. I agree with the idea that admitting weakness allows you to feel human. Sometimes admitting your human can be a hard thing to do, even to yourself.
Mike G~ I don’t think you can ask for much more when you write a post than the knowledge it somehow helped someone. I am so grateful you shared this comment because it reminded me it’s not only OK to share your difficulties; it’s actually useful for other people. I understand that tired feeling–I’ve been there. I hope you feel better today. Judging from what you wrote, I’m guessing you felt better much sooner than that =)
Mike~ Thank you for that! If there’s one thing I want to convey it’s that we’re all the same in many ways–learning new information about ways to be healthy and happy, and doing our best to apply it. We all try, we all struggle, and we all (hopefully) learn and grow together.
Nadia~ Too funny about God creating hotels! I actually don’t mind camping–I’m just used to a different type of experience (air mattress in the tent, lots of hanging out, minimal activity unless it involves booze!) Thank you for what you wrote about my writing. That made me smile
Mike~ Sounds like we’d have fun camping together, then! This trip definitely motivated me to get in better shape. I was amazed at how quickly I started gasping on day one. “Sometimes admitting your human can be a hard thing to do, even to yourself.” <–I totally agree.
I enjoyed this account. Well written and flows through the thought process. Admitting you don’t do as you say is difficult. If I followed my own advice I might just be happy.
We all have things in ourselves to work upon. Seeing others, you, having this struggle and finding a balance or solution is helpful.
Lori, I enjoyed your article. I like to read some personal stories on the blogs I visit because it makes the person real. On the other hand I also like the intellectual and more rigorous posts as well. When I first found your blog a couple of months ago the first article or two I read were fantastic and the hooked me. If this was the post I first found when I arrived, enjoyable though it may be, I would not have had the same reaction. I think it is fine to sprinkle these kind of articles in, but don’t forget the other stuff.
Lori, I really enjoyed this post and so, to answer first the question posed at the end, YES – more personal? LOVE IT! I have grown weary lately of some of my favorite blogs, I must admit, because I feel I read a lot of very similar advice but am not really shown any application. It’s always fun to me to read about people just living their lives and hopefully (like) me trying to apply some of this advice that it’s so easy to give but so much harder to follow. I could totally relate!
Also, I enjoyed your comments about change very much. What you say is so true: it’s not usually some instantaneous moment but a series of moments from one place to the next.
Wonderful post today.
hahahaha! oh wait, sympathy for the ankle twist and knee that sucks majorly! but good on ya mate! or ‘on ya mate’ if u prefer the even more slang version of this classic aussie saying
Personally I love hearing stories like that and yeah, being present when everything around u is in turmoil or is creating it, that’s a toughie so don’t beat your self up to much next time your in the same situation. I guess the more you go through it and battle to be present, the more you build on it.
I heard a saying today while walking along a pier in this evening’s sunset with some friends, You know how to eat an elephant right?
haha- i didn’t know, apparently the answer was bite by bite
I thought that this entry was really pleasant. It definitely shows how you’re applying what you’ve been posting. It’s also a good chance to know the person behind all the text
Stephen~ You make a great point–balance is key! Recently I’ve been writing less than I did when I first started, but I’ll have some more varied posts in the near future. Thank you for visiting
Chania~ Thank you so much! I can totally relate to what you wrote. I bounce around a lot of blogs that have similar themes to mine, and I feel the same way about taking in all the advice. It’s nice to break things up every once in a while. I’m thrilled it’s been well-received. =)
Rama~ Thanks for the moral support! It was a tough situation, with the physical pain and all, but a great opportunity to work at applying these ideas. Nice quote, by the way–I dig it!
Toyyg~ Thank you! It feels good to reveal a little more of myself. Sometimes I forget what makes my blog unique is me, and I should work with that. It’s reassuring to know people are interested in reading.
I found this post very humourous compared to your other posts. I enjoyed reading it alot. it felt like your blog had taken the holiday with you. The tone of it changed as people do when they are not in their normal environments. I loved this break from the norm it add variety to your posts.
I like what you say about change…Intellectually I understand that happiness isn’t found through momentous and ‘instantaneous change’ and then ‘enduring enjoyment’. As you say: [The process is more often] “choosing to struggle instead of quieting my racing thoughts and enjoying what’s right in front of me; I fill silence with chatter instead of growing in stillness; I resist discomfort instead of accepting it and shifting my attention to the better parts of an experience.
I like how you talk about it.
Daniel~ Sorry for the slow response! I’m glad you enjoyed this post; and I’ll try to write some other more light-hearted ones for the future.
CS~ I think a lot of people expect change to just happen–but it seems more likely that it’s incremental, and an on-going process. Thank you for reading and sharing your comments! I love when people interact on the site. =)