For the majority of my childhood, we lived on acreage. I often made forts with my friends, clubhouses, hideouts, and trails in the woods. I made mudpies (and tried to sell them on the side of a country dirt road. Believe it or not, no one bought them) often went barefoot, even on our gravel driveway.
I’ve always loved being outside.
One of our greatest discoveries as adults was hiking. I don’t know why it took us so long to figure out how much we loved it, but we were well into our 30’s. Though our kids may fuss and fight it, they enjoy it, too. It is one of my favorite things, and it is often a time where I connect with my family, nature, and my creator.
Today, though, I did something new. I went hiking alone. (Ok, so not alone, alone. I took our 4-month-old puppy, who clearly was going to protect me, or at least run for help if I fell and hurt myself. “What is it, Ivy? A mom fell down on the trail? She needs help now?” Obviously, I was much safer today.)
I brought headphones, but never put them in. I listened to the birds, squirrels, and the lawnmowers (hiking a mountain in the middle of suburbia has its positives and negatives) and just *was*.
It. was. glorious.
I used to be a runner before I was a hiker. I ran long distance before my knees revolted. I sometimes ran with friends, but often ran alone. Long runs were my favorite because sometime after mile 4, my body found it’s groove and my mind could relax and think and create and explore. (It is one of the things I’ve missed about running.) It was an outlet for me, in a way that, until today, I have only found in the shower or bath.
Today, friends, my mind was just free. I let Ivy, our puppy, smell whatever she wanted, letting her be as free as my mind.
I’ve hiked a lot of different places, locally, and around the world. The same activity, hiking, can look and be such a different experience depending on where you are, what the weather is like, and the terrain.
We once hiked the same trail in RMNP one year in June, and the trail was covered in snow and ice. We had to use our crampons and hiking poles and it still took us forever. The next year, in July, it was 80 and that part of the climb looked very different. I almost didn’t notice we were on the same trail!
Rainbow mountain loop, the trail I took today, is not especially long. Somewhere 1.5ish miles. But, the trail is pretty rocky and requires a lot of scrambling up and down rocks. I went hiking last week at a state park in TN with another doula. It was about 1 mile longer in length than RML, but the trail was even, fairly rock-free, so it was more like an easy walk.
As I hiked along today, I started thinking about birth, (as you do on your hikes, of course) and how it’s kind of like hiking. You can be doing the same activity (laboring and giving birth) yet have vastly different experiences depending on the person, the baby, the environment, and so many more factors.
If you specifically think about the trail we hiked back to back years, it reminds me of someone giving birth for the second time. It’s the same trail, but things may be wildly different.
Some births are short, but rocky and intense, and require a lot of stamina.
Some births are moderate in length, easy, and leisurely.
Some births are long, and full of little obstacles (this reminds me of a hike we did in Panama where a downhill portion was teeny, tiny little pebbles that essentially functioned like a slip and slide and I had to go down on my behind.)
Some births are a walk in the woods, peaceful and calm.
Every hike is different, and friends, every birth is different. Your body may have its patterns, but no two births are the same.
There are very few hikes I’ve taken where I walked away wishing I hadn’t gone. I’ve found beauty in every hike, for the most part, and every part of the adventure.
Especially today.
