Big Trees and The Bigger Picture

Big Trees State Park, Arnold, CA

It must seem like I write a lot about hiking! It's both a solo and group activity that I do once a week, weather permitting. Hiking is a great chance to get outside for some exercise, to explore the area in which you live and generally, to clear your mind.  Hiking by myself is great, I like the solitude and time to think, but I also enjoy hiking with other people. Specifically, I love observing other people. Listening to them, watching to see what catches their eye, and just generally being in someone else's company for a little while is very enjoyable.  

I think, too, that walking along with someone for any length of time and listening to them, provides a learning opportunty. It's a chance to discover something about that person and in the process, to find out something about myself. It's my belief that we gain insight into our own personalities (and our world)  through watching and listening to other people. I love getting the chance to see other people in action, to listen to what they say (and don't say) and to watch how they do things. It presents a real opportunity for reflection and growth. And I like that. Get a hike in, learn about someone else, and possibly gain some personal insight. Nothing wrong with that!

Not that long ago, I had the opportunity to hike with a small group of women, some of whom I know fairly well and three new-ish ladies that I had only met once before. The day started with a beautiful morning, clear and warm. We began the hike and right away there was a problem. One of the women couldn't keep up and requested that the group not wait for her. We agreed, knowing that the route was easy to follow and that her husband was with her in case anything happened. The second thing that occurred, gradually as the hike progressed, was that one of the other women was clearly struggling to move along, even at a slower pace. Though we made lots of stops to take pictures and drink water, she was still having a hard time. We eventually made it to the halfway point of the hike (a creek) and decided to rest for a bit.

As the group stood by the creek, talking and looking around, I had the chance to consider things. I realized that I was irritated with the way the hike was unfolding. Specifically, I was annoyed with these two women. Why had the one woman come on this hike if she wasn't physically able to do it? Why was the other woman struggling so much? Didn't they both realize that they were negatively impacting the group? My impatience started to grow. It wasn't long before I was regretting helping to lead this hike.

I should mention that it's nerve wracking for me to witness someone else struggling to keep up with the group. It's difficult for me to not feel responsible for that person's welfare and how the group may be impacted should something happen. These hiking outings, organized through an online social group, are voluntary of course and the hike "leaders" aren't actually leaders in a true sense. They are simply organizers and not essentially responsible for anyone or what happens. Still. It's disconcerting to watch anyone have a hard time. When I watch that person, I see myself and think that it could easily be me. 

As I stood by watching the group, I thought about the remaining woman who was physically having a hard time keeping up but who appeared to be enjoying herself nonetheless. I tried to consider what I would do if I were in her shoes. Would I have signed up for this hike? Would I be standing around now, laughing and enjoying myself despite some difficulties?   I didn't have any answers. Finally, in frustration, I just gave it up. 

The problem of what to do when someone falls behind on a hike or maybe should not have signed up to begin with, felt unsolvable at that moment. To distract myself from the unanswerable questions and my own circular thoughts, I absently looked at the creek instead. Amid the noise of the talking, both interanl and external, I heard the water's small, quiet sounds. Some kind of insect was buzzing around and I heard that too. I looked at the plants growing along the banks and thought what it would be like to be a plant; how it must take some patience to endure the rain and heat and snow. I turned my thoughts inward again and realized that I was lacking in something. Maybe a little empathy and understanding. Perhaps some kindness was needed on my part towards these two women. 

Having patience with yourself and with others isn't always easy to do. I find though that thinking about things in a somewhat persistent but gentle way can often lead to small insights; little reminders about something that I may have forgotten. Despite my irritation, which was beginning to fade away, I gradually found myself overwhelmed with a sense of joy. Somehow I felt connected to the very people that I was unhappy with. I realized something that I had lost sight of in my frustration. We are all in it together, responsible for one another in a way that isn't always easy to define. This doesn't mean that others aren't accountable for their own actions. It simply means that we are connected. Interconnections cause someone else's problems to become your problems. You take on a heightened sense of someone else's suffering and happiness, develop a feeling of empathy, and as a result, it's easier to offer words of kindness instead of words of anger, both to yourself and to others. For better or for worse, we are our brother's keeper. 

Libby