I’ve noticed something recently. I was remembering a back-packing trip I took ages ago, alone, into the high country near Estes Park, Colorado. I remember the sense of awe and majesty I had with every change of the trail. I remember also that I felt far more alone than I had expected to. By that I mean, I was SEEKING solitude. I wanted to be alone. I thought it would a good experience. Instead, I found that being alone in this situation meant not having anyone to share the awesome beauty with. In fact, that loneliness caused me to do something I really regretted in later years. I turned back. I didn’t finish my goal. I allowed myself to listen to my own doubts and fears. I wish I had.
But at one point on the trail, I encountered a couple of men, a man and his son, actually. We were at a particularly rough part of the trail, and we helped each other up and over that spot. Not much to it, really. But remembering that, caused me to remember something from other hikes I’ve been on. I remembered how when the trail was rough, and not easy to get over, folks, total strangers, tend to pull together. At least I think that has been my experience when the overall endeavor was one of choice, as most hiking trails are.
I was thinking about that as I was pushing 70 on the interstate between my home and the office this morning (yes, in a 60 zone, so sue me.) On the freeway, these days, it seems to be rare to see folks helping each other. A turn signal frequently means someone will speed up to prevent you from getting in front of them. Breaking because one is going to fast means the person behind will pull up on your bumper expecting you to move. In short, Interstate driving, as experienced in our society today, is pretty much every person for themselves… dog eat dog… that kind of thing.
And THAT realization, coupled with the memories – oh so pleasant memories – brought to mind another contemplation. Albeit, a short one. It’s all the focus my brain can muster… short contemplations.
When the trails we walk on our journeys through life are hard and narrow, it seems to me to be easy to reach out to those around to lend a helping hand, and to be willing to grasp the proffered hand of another.
But when our journeys flatten out on to the freeways of life, as they often do, we tend to think a little less of those around us… it’s just us and the highway, getting us to a place we’ve never been, but can’t wait to reach.
When I consider that, it makes me glad the interstate is about to end, and I look forward, once again, to the travails of the thorny path on which my journey soon will… okay MAY… lead me.
And what’s more, it’s on those narrow, thorny paths that OTHER finds us most open to listen, more willing to reach out for help; more willing to accept.
On The Road II 