August 8, 2014, en route to go backpacking in Glacier National Park: I watched the Today Show as I was getting ready this morning. Apparently, Hoda Kotbe is turning 50 this week. There was a segment on several amazing 50+ year-old women with some really honest stories. Discovery, tenacity, athleticism … it was all there. One particular woman struck me. Her partner found her body unattractive, since it now had wrinkles. She stood naked in front of a mirror for some time, contemplating that. This body gave her babies. It held her SOUL. She decided she was beautiful, and it was him that needed the boot. For some reason, this made me strangely melancholy. I sat there in my Spokane hotel room welling up, which matured in to a full on snort-sob. For the sake of all involved, it’s good I traveled alone on this trip.
I was alone, 300 miles in, and I had let “the fearful one” step stealthily in to my being. She shouts … “it could be up to 12 miles a day, you know … with 45 pounds on your back, and 3,000 feet of elevation. She whispers … “you can’t.” I sit with that a while, but fortunately, I have a stronger, more willful counterpart that insists, “Just. Go.”
That feisty voice has gotten me to jump from airplanes. Sit with a broken child in a trauma hospital. Climb a mountain in Yosemite. Fight for a job I was not yet qualified for, but boy, they’d be smart to hire me! More times and more adventures than I can count. “Just ….. Go.”
I love being 51. I love being adventurous. I love being fierce. And I love being scared and just doin’ it anyway.
I love being …………………………. here.