I would walk 500 miles-Juust kidding!

Never in all my days on this planet did I expect walking to become my addiction. Diet Coke, chocolate, white cake, groovy stuff, chick flicks, shopping at HomeGoods, maybe. Walking…NEVER! The old, younger me, would often joke that the extent of my walking was to the fridge and back. Now I would and could walk to a fridge five miles away. It’s true! I look forward to my daily walks, preferably at sunset, but morning strolls are a great way to start my day.

Recently, I created a short video of a new place I found, a wooded area surrounded by aspens and oaks, where birds and other small animals reside. This area is in the same park I have walked for the past two and a half years, just feet away from my usual path. I’ve seen others venture down this way, so I don’t know why I’ve never felt adventurous and followed. Well, I have an idea. As mentioned, it’s a wooded area and I’ve seen those without homes hanging out close by, so fear has kept me at bay. Fear of what may be lurking in the bushes, possibly putting a lone woman in harm’s way. In addition to bears and moose, this is the same reason I’ve not dared to take a solo walk in the beautiful mountains I love that surround our valley. Although I highly doubt there are bears and moose lurking in these woods.  

Anyway, it was three weeks ago that I felt led to go out into this area of the unknown. I’m so glad I did!!  It was beautiful! Fall colors filled the area, painting a breathtaking scene. The deeper I went into these woods, the happier I became. My soul came alive. I couldn’t soak up enough of the smells, sights, sounds. I stayed as long as my schedule allowed, pulling out my camera and taking as many photos as I could because I knew the mental images would not satisfy me. I also knew I would be back now that I had a taste of this beautiful destination. And I did…the very next week.

This time however, the experience was different. In fact, the feelings I felt were the very reason that had kept me away for so long. It didn’t feel safe. I wasn’t excited as I sauntered down the hill. That should have been my first clue. Within moments I heard voices, several of them. A group of men. Unsure if I should be afraid, I didn’t want to take any chances. My inner voice helped. She screamed at me to hide until this possible danger passed by. Once it did, I scrambled to the top of the hill, disappointed, and left immediately. I don’t know if I overreacted, I did know I wasn’t going to take any chances. There will be other days, Wendy my spirit said comforting me.

Today was one of them. I was enjoying my morning walk at the park, admiring the view of the snowcapped Oquirrh mountains. Before I knew it, my feet took control, my soul confirmed it was safe, so I gave in excited to experience what I had two weeks prior.

The weather was perfect for November in Utah. The sun enveloped me with its warmth. I took my jacket off and wrapped it around my waist. I felt like a little kid showing up to a birthday party. However, as I reached the bottom of the hill and turned the corner, I was instantly filled with disappointment. The view I experienced just weeks ago no longer existed. The trees had followed the process of Fall and shed all their leaves. Before me, the site was desolate, dry, and quite honestly, ugly. No! I thought. The song in my heart joined my feet and paused. How could something change so drastically in a matter of two weeks. No longer excited to walk through this grove, I almost turned and returned to my park where at least the pines and several of the trees still had some of their foliage.

Then it hit me. Why would I desert something just because I didn’t see it as beautiful? I stood there staring at this site. Then, like a swarm of bees, several thoughts buzzed through my mind. I shifted my perspective and what I originally viewed as “ugly”changed.

The path was not unsightly. The trees were merely in a season of their existence. Shedding their beauty was a part of the process. The sight before me, this grove of barren, grey, sad looking trees still had purpose. This forest still mattered. It mattered to the birds that lived among the branches, to the squirrels preparing to hibernate for the winter, to the horses that use the trails for exercise, and to a future of joy it would bring as hikers returned from their winter break.

My thoughts went deeper. Everything has a season—not just this forest, or shows like The Witcher or Bridgerton. Snakes that shed their skins, perms that lose their curl, cars that lose that new car smell, and new shoes that get scuffed and worn...just a few examples of things that go through a cycle. Then it donned on me. The feelings of self-doubt, imposter syndrome, and discouragement that have taken me hostage, leaving me feeling like this sad looking forest; dead, dry and for lack of a better analogy…even ugly, are a part of my season. These days of feeling sad and gray, do not mean I don’t have purpose or that I’ve lost my creativity, or that I’m just blah. No way Jose! Like this forest, this is temporary for me—for all of us when we experience change.

In that moment, (can you believe all that went through my head in a moment?!?) I made my decision and continued on my walk, and do you know what? It was beautiful! I was able to see what I didn’t two weeks ago, the core of the forest. At the time, I didn’t have this view because the fullness of the trees had hidden it. Now, I was able to see the heart of these woods. I felt joy as the carpet of leaves crunched beneath my feet, and the birds still sang their happy tunes. My soul joined in their song as I walked further than I had two weeks ago, experiencing the beauty from a different perspective. Like these trees, when we get in these ruts our roots remain strong, we have a purpose and for me personally, I know my creativity is preparing for its next full, brilliant bloom.  

To the parks and forests where I put miles on my shoes this past year, thank you! You taught me that grey is in and that it’s okay to be naked—at least in your own home. I know it’s time to change, so while you’re in your dressing room trying on your new look, I’ll wait patiently and look forward to when you step out, sharing your new style with the rest of us. And don’t be surprised, I may have a new “look” too.  

Perhaps by this time next year, I will have conquered my fear, the way I did here in the park, and find the courage to seek the mountain solace I long for.

And to anyone walking this same season with me—trust that we’ll make it through!