Reflections of an amateur hiker

I’ve always admired those people in the movies that can pick up their backpacks and go for wondrous hikes in picturesque wildernesses. They seem free and happy in nature and always seem to find some profound meaning to life out there. So what does a young girl in the midst of her quarter life crisis who loves nature do? She decides to hike. I kid you not, I had a random conversation with my dad on one very random car ride and in two days I was off for my first hike. Sigh, I wish life was like in the movies where you could just make a montage out of the hard parts with some powerful music playing in the background and skip straight to the conquering part, but alas, such is not life. I have spent the last few weeks being beaten down by the sun, accosted by the wind and (don’t tell my mum) swearing at slopes and rocks. Every hike has been an adventure and, when I’m not too busy loosing my way or my breathe, I’ve learned many lessons.

I think the most important one has been basically about pace. Pace is everything. I am the type of person who just bears through life and so I took on hikes with that attitude. I’d just power through the crazy even if I’m struggling and breathless. I think Mt. Suswa was one of my worst hikes because of this. We set off at a crazy pace and not wanting to be the one in the back of the group, I tried to keep up with the Karanjas that were powering through this crazy uphill. I kid you not,within ten minutes I was pouring with sweat, in twenty I was feeling dizzy from the heat and exhaustion and within the hour I was ready to quit. To give you a bit of background to my love of rushing through things, let me remind you that I did my undergrad in three years instead of four. It’s just always been my habit to try and get things done quickly. It’s no wonder that I lived life at such an unsustainable pace that I burned out this year and took months to recover. Yet I still hadn’t learned my lesson till I had a very real anxiety attack at the foot of Elephant Hill and my friend intervened (God bless you Ash). After having what must have been the strangest phone conversation with my friend, the guide talked me down, and taught me to pace myself. From then on I have enjoyed every hike. I could write on and on about pacing in life and I just might because I think it is just such an important lesson. I’ve developed a habit of assessing the sustainability of anything I am doing, whether it is jogging, hiking, healthy habits, relationships or work. I actually ask myself, if I were to maintain this pace of whatever, how long can I do it? It must be sustainable for me. I have learned to pace jogs so I can make it the distance, to stop unhealthy habits in relationships because I can’t sustain the false front I am putting or to even let go of things because I can’t keep up.

Last year in December I found myself begging God for a change. I had literally no hope and prayers for 2017; all I knew was that something had to give. I think I had sacrificed so much and lived at such a crazy pace that I was basically empty. I had nothing left to give and my job was demanding and the demands were increasing. The pace that I had allowed myself to be pushed to run at was neither healthy nor sustainable, so I left to figure life out again. It’s no where near figured out, but I am just that much more aware of what I pour my energy into and I measure it out in realistic means. Life isn’t an all or nothing sprint. It is a marathon and I want to make it to the finish line. On mount Kenya whenever we would set out at a pace I would take a few minutes to feel the pace and the terrain, then I would ask myself, ‘how long can I go on like this?’ If the answer was minutes I would adjust until it was a pace that I could keep for longer than the hike. It would work until we got to a difficult part and I would either panic or try to rush through a terrifying bit and the guides would tell me, ‘pole pole Dotty.’ With great patience they would help me slow down and guide me through the bit that was hard or dangerous.

Unfortunately, we don’t have a physical guide walking us through life telling us to slow down. Instead we have our bodies that burn out and wear down sometimes. We have to be the ones to monitor the pace and say, I know I love this person but if I keep pouring myself out into their lives I will resent them and ruin our relationship. We have to be able to look at our jobs and ask if we will truly live full and abundant lives if we remain there.We have to be able to look at our ministry and decide that if scaling up will make us loose our purpose that we should just maintain the same pace. Pole Pole Dotty. So here I am taking life one step at a time. I have to say, the new pace is refreshing but I still forget. Heck just this week I came down from the mountain hike of a lifetime and went straight into work. It wasn’t until the day after I’d driven out of town at night and only slept a few hours that I realized the reason I was feeling faint was because I had literally eaten a few bites in the past few days. I immediately sat and had a bite. Pole Pole Dotty. I have to keep reminding myself that the world really doesn’t depend on me to keep moving. It won’t end when I take a break. In fact more often than not slowing down is what saves the day. A steady pace is what gets you to the finish line.

On the last day of the Mount Kenya climb I was sick and every time I stopped I would erupt into a continuous fit of coughs that left me heaving and weak so I had to take a guide and just keep walking. I remember thinking that I was lucky because I had someone with me to direct almost every step. He kept a pace that was good for me, carefully selected a path that I could handle and when I was weak he stopped to give me water and let me catch my breathe. He knew which rocks I could and couldn’t jump and which times I was okay figuring things out alone. He knew the bigger picture of the path but so that I didn’t despair at the great distance, he would tell me only of what lay in the immediate future. Knowing that he was an expert and knew best allowed me to let him lead me. Even things as simple as breathing, eating and drinking were in his power. I could trust him. As we walked I wondered how over the last seven weeks I trusted complete strangers with my life as they guided me across wildernesses yet I was so stingy with my trust towards God. How was I okay with not knowing the entire route on the hike yet I wanted God to give me a detailed blow by blow of the rest of my life? In fact if life was a hike and God were a guide, I would be lost and in danger by now because of how foolhardy I can be, questioning His every direction. God is trustworthy and more than qualified to guide me in life. I’ve had a year of practicing obedience and yeah, like in hikes sometimes I have been scared and tired, but I have been safe too. Like in hikes, I have never been pushed beyond what I can handle and despite any danger, I have come through unscathed. In life sometimes God is the guide walking right beside us, giving us strength when we have none, showing us exactly where to step or carrying us through and in other times He is the guide walking behind us watching us navigate the paths because He knows we can handle it and He is close enough to us help us if we stumble. In the various guides I have walked with I have seen what I can enjoy with God if only I would trust Him. I remember telling someone I have never heard from God so clearly and so often as I have this year. It’s been the craziest of years but I have not walked alone. There’s a lot deeper and better I could get at when it comes to trusting God to be my guide, but even in that I know He will show me how. He is the one able to help me create sustainable habits for life and ministry, so that I can lead the type of wonder-filled abundant life He wants me to live, one trusting step at a time.