I had written a post about embracing seasonality – both in nature and in life. How each season gives me something to look forward to while savoring what the current one has to offer. Yet as I sit here, attempting to read through it and simultaneously distracting myself with I Dream of Jeanie in the background, it all just feels inauthentic and disingenuous.
The truth is I am very much over this season of my life. I am tired of city living. I am tired of working in a humongous hospital. I am tired of spending my days in windowless rooms with my constant companion – the computer. I am tired of being the independent, young woman. All that I really want to do right now is be some place different, with spaces filled with more trees than concrete, less people but greater human interaction, and where the emphasis is on community rather than personal gain.
It’s not that NYC doesn't contain the possibility for all of those things. It does. It’s just that I am ready to move on and as I stay here with the seemingly same day in and day out I feel stagnate. A lost love will do that. Hold you in place. While life continues to move on, there is an alternate reality that contains all of the what would have beens and in many ways, that paralyzes me. Because as much as I am ready for the next season, I don’t want to let this one go. For if I do that means it is another notch of finality, another sign that time is moving on, another set of experiences to repeat alone.
When Grace and I were hiking at Bear Mountain the other weekend, we came upon an elderly gentleman waiting patiently on the side of the trail for us to pass. I didn't notice him at first as he blended into the surroundings leaning against a sturdy sapling with a found walking stick in hand. He was probably expecting a few days of mostly solitude in the woods. He was probably not expecting yours truly to be crooning the woodland creatures with Ice Cube’s It Was a Good Day (it’s ahem explicit). After exchanging pleasantries, he began to tell a story of backpacking in the Adirondacks. Earlier this summer, he had hiked to a familiar spot to set up camp and after which he decided to go out and forge a new trail. So armed only with his wallet, water, and a machete, he went into the forest along his own path. Once satisfied with his exploring, he began to make his way back to camp only to realize he could no longer find it. He was not lost. He just couldn't seem to retrace his steps well enough to get back to where he started. As evening began to set in, he gave up his search and hiked out of the woods but throughout the summer he returned to those same woods, each time searching for his camp. Eventually, towards the end of August, he found his things set up just as he had left it minus whatever food he had stored. With this he gave a chuckle, wished us luck, and continued on his way.
Perhaps all I need is time. Perhaps all I need is to continue my pursuit for that feeling of contentment, of home. And when I least expect it, when I have just about given up hope of ever finding it, there it will be.
notes:
bear mountain and harriman state parks are contiguous. they are about an hour north of NYC and easy to get to/from using public transportation.
check out these people - NYNJTC – for trail recommendations and maps. they even have maps that for a small fee you can download on your phone (using this app: http://www.avenza.com/pdf-maps) in order to check your location with gps. so fancy.
if you enjoy a fun little scramble, hike lemon squeezer. this is not to be confused with its big sister - lemon squeeze - at mohonk preserve. if you confuse the two, you will be sorely disappointed. appreciate lemon squeezer for itself.