i went for a walk in the woods today. the new fluffy snow, while beautiful and sparkly in the sunshine, was not deep enough to fill the ruts and the uneven ground worked my ankles. i hiked up a trail i have covered many times and, for most of my climb, i followed two sets of tracks. i used the indents of these ski tracks to determine my direction while my mind processed and purged. at first, as i walked between this pair of tracks, i felt isolated and inadequate. i couldn't manage the ground they covered together and my wide, clunky footfalls didn't match their sleek, skinned skis. and, for some reason, this made me feel small and lonely. it occurred to me that this feeling of weakness was not due to being alone on the trail but more a result of the situation that occurred the night prior and it was just being played out in front of me through physical means in order to force me to evaluate my emotional needs. while attending a basketball game i had seen my neighbor and had given her a hug but when our eyes connected, i could not separate her fresh widowhood status and her shock from my own abandonment and loss and for a moment i could not remember how to breathe, let alone come up with words to provide her some comfort. i walked away fighting the panic and the sobs rising in my throat and it took a few minutes to regain the confidence required to take another breath and another step. after a few minutes, i regained some composure and was able to enjoy the game instead of simply focusing on how to keep oxygen moving through my bloodstream.
after a few minutes though, both at the game and on the hill side, i began to feel some security from the support of those who inhabited these spaces before me, those who share the space i currently occupy, and those who had travelled this trail prior to my arrival and, even with the diversity of life experiences and modes of transport, a feeling of safety emerged and i knew i could move forward. i had too. what other choice is there? it was in that place in my emotional train of thought that the tracks i had been following veered to the left of my tentatively chosen route and i stood still for a moment debating whether i should continue to follow or go off on my own. following the tracks had become too comfortable and the risk of going somewhere i didn't want to go was increasing and because i wanted to climb higher, i chose to follow the un-tracked trail to the right and continue up the hillside on my own. as i hiked, i began to hear birds. lots of them. i stopped short for a moment to consider the disconnect as this chorus is more indicative of springtime and i wondered if these birds were as confused as i was. i determined, however, that they sounded happy and this made me smile and my wounds began to slowly heal themselves and that weight, so centered on the middle of my soul, began to lift and my eyes cleared allowing me to see more clearly. as i moved forward, i saw several deer running through the woods and later, a bull moose that stood and stared at me for a few minutes. making eye contact with this large animal, in his habitat, created a feeling of stillness for me and i felt like i belonged there, too. i had moved, bravely forward, on my own after the ski tracks moved to the left and i was quickly rewarded with the knowledge that i was not alone and i was being protected.
i have often felt like one of the "gifts" we are sometimes given in the midst of trial and loss is the ability to recognize the gifting while it is happening. not surprisingly, we tend to be so overwhelmed by the experiences that catch and injure us that it feels like all we can do is manage to take one breath and one step after another in order to survive and anything else is just too much. but, for me, even when i feel my most alone and my most insecure, looking for what i am being given, in that moment, helps. if i could go back to the corridor outside that ballgame with that brave sad wife and if i could share with all those that are suffering significant losses i would tell them to look for the little gifts and allow them to ease the weight, if only for a few minutes, and to let these gifts remind us that we are not alone.
