Day 1. March 15. Boundaries

Day 1, Sunday March 15. Boundaries.

22.97 miles, 4767 ascent. 

Dear Trail Friends,

I am exhausted from today’s hike and need to get myself to bed since I plan to start early again tomorrow. I hope to do my 100 mile hikeathon in five days (instead of six) this spring so I can show up for family plans Friday and Saturday. So this will be very short. 

This hikeathon is a prayer walk. I am praying for myself and for you - for all of us - as we face the triple threats/traumas that confront us: the state of the world politically (the lack of leadership we trust in our own country and in the world); the state of the earth (the uncertain future of life on the planet for so many species, including our own); the COVID 19 pandemic (the direct threats to health and survival, and the secondary harm done by our necessary efforts to slow the spread). 

When I have the energy I pray silently. But even when I can barely put one foot in front of the other, I like to think of the walking as prayer. I am experimenting with addressing the mystery as “you.” I think of my 15 year old mystical experience in which I felt the presence of a beautiful music at the heart of the universe and experienced all movement - the stars, the planets, the earth turning, the wind, the waves, the traffic, the people moving up and down the aisles of the drugstore where I worked at the soda fountain (when I had the experience) - as a beautiful dance to that music. That experience gave me a deep faith that I am a part of something larger than myself. I also felt that sense of belonging to something larger when I hiked the PCT and other trails - I experienced the wilderness around me as something great and beautiful, and again the experience gave me a deep faith that I was part of something larger. A great beauty, a great design. Perhaps accidental but no less great for that. 

Quakers talk about  a “gathered meeting” when we sense the presence of God in our midst. I feel okay using the word God for that grand music, that grand dance, that grand design. In my prayers today, I talked to that God. 

Please take me in your hands, I said to the music and the dance of the universe and the beauty of the natural world around me. Hold me, all of me. Hold my fear and anger, my pain and sorrow. My weakness and exhaustion. My guilt and shame. Hold me in your hands and in your gaze and let me know I am loved and accepted just as I am. Hold me in your hands and gaze and give me your blessing - see me whole and flawed and bless me just as I am.  But don’t give up on me. Put me on your potters wheel, spin me around with the seasons and years, take the raw life energy of my fear and anger and all the hard stuff and punch and knead and reshape me into a beautiful vessel into which you can pour your presence. A strong vessel that can carry “that of God” within me and offer it to others. Let me carry the music, the dance, the beautiful design of nature and pass them on to others. Please hold each person in your hands and your gaze and bless them and shape them into a stronger and more beautiful vessel. 

It was 27 degrees when I set out this morning a little before 7am. And it got colder as I hiked  higher and the wind was fierce. I wore my balaclava until 1pm and my fingers were got so numb I could barely button my pants button after I peeed. Every little stream was decorated with icicles and ice sculptures (photo 1)

So as the sun got higher I felt it’s warmth and light as a physical blessing - the touch of the hands and gaze for which I was praying. I so wished I could take a photo that would convey that feeling of receiving a blessing. (Photo 2)

In the afternoon I rested for a moment near Cascade Falls. My eyes rested on the moving water, the brilliant sunlight reflected on it, and the ferns. I was very very tired and I felt such trust in the simple presence of “God.” It was such good medicine for all the fear and horror I have been feeling. (Photo 3)

Thank you for walking with me. More than ever in this time of “social distance” we need to find ways to reach out and touch each other. I am grateful for your joining me in my prayer walk. I treasure your presence.