Meditation

This afternoon, I took a short trip to pop in on my friend Phil, who works at Old Tyme Candy Shoppe in Radium Hot Springs.  He didn't have much time to chat, being in the middle of putting a large shipment into inventory and out on display, so he suggested that I go for a walk on the trails near Sinclair Creek, which I did.  The weather today was warm, if a little dodgy on the precipitation front, but it held off while I was down in the canyon, for which I was grateful.  While I used to be an avid day hiker, it's been well over a decade since I've done much, and fourteen years, four kids, and forty pounds have taken a toll on my stamina.  Add to that, I'm still getting used to the altitude here in the upper reaches of the Columbia River after fourteen years near the coast.  Sending me on the local equivalent of the Bear's Hump in Waterton Lakes National Park, or the Grouse Grind near Vancouver, would not have been a very wise idea. 

Time in nature

Once I made my way down the switchbacks in the trail to the bottom of the canyon, I found myself moving differently.  I was no longer a middle-aged mother of five with a weight problem, but a creature of the woods, setting my pace to the rhythm of running water, listening to bird calls (I heard a raven, and I saw a small songbird, about the size of a finch, with a tuft of bright feathers on its head), and watching for dragonflies and caterpillars. 

On trails lined with trees and underbrush right up to their margins, I experienced an almost atavistic sensation that I was walking through a fairy-tale wood, perhaps even Little Red Riding Hood's forest, a sensation that seemed at odds with the warmth of the sun beating on my shoulders and back, with the groomed gravel of the trail beneath my feet, and with my overall sense of well-being.  In some sense, I believe that I was experiencing what Clarissa Pinkola Estes describes in her wonderful book, Women Who Run with the Wolves, as the "selva subterranea", the forest deep in the soul where the true nature lives.  The child in me, as well as the woman who watches "Grimm" for the references to the unsanitized fairy tales that strike a deeper chord than anything I ever read as a child, half-expected the "big bad wolf" to leap out from the underbrush, even as I knew I would be more likely to encounter a bear or cougar.  Yet, as I climbed my way back out of the canyon, I felt stronger, more sure, and grateful for the opportunity to undertake the soul's journey in such a literal way.

Things I learned

I had time to listen to myself, too, and relearn some things about who I am and what I like.  This is some of what I found out.  I am a writer and a dreamer (above all a dreamer), a mother and a culinary experimenter.  I like chocolate, especially good quality dark chocolate, silky and slightly bitter, but I am in love with milk chocolate like an ex-boyfriend, the one who you know is bad for you, but whom you can't quite manage to eliminate from your life, and especially milk chocolate-covered almonds.  I like perfectly ripe strawberries with vanilla bean ice cream and just a drop of balsamic vinegar.  I like sitting in front of a blazing fireplace on a wet day, and I love watching the weather roll over the peaks.  Mountains speak to my soul like nothing else on earth, especially these Canadian Rockies.  I like trains and hotels, and especially hotels whose history is tied up in the history of trains.  I like men in their forties, because they have enough experience to make them interesting, yet enough youth to maintain boyish charm.  I am a romantic, and I spend a great deal of time wondering about used-to-bes and might-have-beens and might-yet-bes.

Speaking of used-to-bes, I also realized that one of my ex-boyfriends (yes, the milk chocolate comparison does apply, but not literally) and my husband are a lot alike in many ways.  It's not just the similar height, or the blue eyes, or the buzzed hair.  it's the way they know me, the way they are both youngest sons and touchy about their competence when they feel it questioned.  I'm not sure if that guy was the dry run, or if I chose my husband because he reminded me of that guy.  Interesting question.  All I know is that guy is the only ex-boyfriend for whom I would do battle if he were hurt by another woman.