Wilderness Essays

There is a rather well known quote: "Not all who wander are lost." Since moving back to the mountains over 8 years ago, I have found that I resonate with this idea more and more each passing year, month, day. I spend a great deal of time wandering, not just in the forests and meadows, mountains and valleys, but in the world of ideas and thinking. 

I wander in the high places because stress and exasperation often drive me to those places. I can be drowning in the fog of what I cannot change, of what feels impossible, and when I push myself to get even just to the top of my beloved hill, I suppose there is a chemical change that improves inside of me, but there is most definitely a mental shift by the time I reach my tree. I feel like someone has removed the fog, and given me eyes to see again. Sometimes, if I have extra time, I wander the surrounding hills looking for everything and nothing, treasures that may be hidden in the rocks, wildflowers, wild animals, or just the healing of quiet. In those moments of external wandering, my heart is renewed and my mind is refreshed.

In the past couple of years, I have found my wandering to be more essential to my well being and thus the well being of my whole family. The relentless challenges of raising, training, guiding Lochlan through life, from childhood into puberty contribute to what drives me. Probably the working out/through of the trauma that came from the 2022 events that tried to destroy our property and completely altered our lives has played it's role as well. Facing my blatant limitations in every real way, drives me to find my strength in something other than myself. 

I have been writing notes periodically during my times of wandering the hills, because it is in those places where my sight is restored, where clarity finds me. I have a jar buried beneath my tree where I keep my notes in case the boys ever wish to read the scattered wilderness essays. They are the essays written in the journey(s) of this life where the impossible is a persistent companion, but also in the wilderness in which I find my strength, where my hope is renewed, where beauty is the constant reminder that I am never alone. 

This little journal and the tiny painted picture of my tree were given to me by two of my beloved friends. They accompany me on most of my adventures.