Being surrounded by people who know what you need before you know ranks right up there with hearing your favorite song while eating pizza outside on a sunny day. I’m lucky that I’ve experienced this more than once in my life, and I can only hope that I’ve done the same for others.
One time in particular that I remember this happening was eight months after I graduated from college. I was living at home and had just wrapped up an unpaid internship at an advertising agency. I was desperately trying to find employment and still had that entitled-recent-college-graduate attitude. I couldn’t believe that ad agencies weren’t fighting to have me on their creative team. How could they not need my fresh, new ideas? I would be a complete asset for them. (Drop the last two letters of that word, and that’s what I was in those days.)
Let’s also keep in mind that this was the mid-90s, and although we were all enjoying watching Friends on Thursday nights, the job market was dismal. I sent out resume after resume only to hear crickets. The rejection (or lack of rejection rather) began to get to me, so one day my parents decided to get me out of the house and take me to the zoo.
My parents have taken me on lots of trips, but this one will always stand out for two reasons. One, the motivation for the trip was pure love, and two, a baboon mooned my dad when he got too close to the exhibit.
The other day, my husband showed me that same kind of love (with the exception of the baboon). I’ve been down lately, more than down. We’re talking about the crying, not sleeping, feeling nauseous all the time kind of down. I’m worried about my parents, my kids and my sanity. And although I’m not the most religious person in the world, I’ve also been down about some weird and hurtful things happening at our church. So instead of allowing me to be engulfed in a wave of self-pity, John planned a hike for our family at a state park a little over an hour away from our home.
A little context here — John and I constantly joke about me living in a bubble. He commutes 40 miles (each way) to work as an engineer for a German company. I have no idea what he does, but I know that he works with real people because I’ve met some of them. As for me, most everything I do takes place within five miles of our house. Sure, it’s convenient, but it can also be suffocating. So even though I often resist exiting the bubble, it is indeed a healthy thing to do — if only to realize that everyone does not wear Lululemon and have Carrera marble countertops.
So yesterday we made our way to Bakers Mountain Park in Catawba County. The 189-acre park features six miles of trails and a gorgeous lookout at its peak (1,780 feet above sea level). At first I didn’t have a great attitude. My allergies were bothering me, and the beginning part of the trail was super steep. But once I got into a rhythm, I remembered how much I enjoy hiking. I love the strategy behind each step when walking over roots, and I love the ease of speeding up when the trail is flat. The constant back and forth demands your attention, so you have no choice but to focus.
By the time we reached the summit, I felt good, not great, but good, which is a heck of a lot better than I felt when I woke up. We crossed a gurgling stream on our way back down, and I took a minute to just listen to the water. Caught in the wonder that it was going to keep continuously flowing long after we were gone was comforting to me. I made a point to stamp that moment on my brain so I could pull it up later.
As we drove back into the bubble, I was grateful that John pushed to take us on a hike and just be for a few hours. Sometimes that’s all you need, just to be. I’m so glad that he knew that because I didn’t have a clue.