Don’t Fear the Void.

WARNING:  This is not an entirely happy-go-lucky Badger post.  But I am feeling a little heavy and contemplative tonight, and since it’s my blog, I’ll cry if I want to.

Last Sunday I headed over to Gazzam Lake Nature Preserve for a nice, long, flat hike (except for the Close Trail beach access part, which was STRAIGHT DOWN and STRAIGHT BACK UP:  yee-ha!!!).  Walking through the majestic trees and contemplating life next to the quiet, still lake reminded met yet again how lucky I am to live in such a beautiful place.  I resolve to never take it for granted again.  As I’ve learned in my old age, beauty is everywhere; you just have to get your head out of your iPhone and and look at it. Here’s an opportunity to see some of the sights from Gazzam Lake:

Revelations and Lessons

On most of my training excursions this summer, there has been some sort of revelation or lesson learned, either about the world in general or about myself. At Mount St. Helens, for example, I learned that I CAN do a Class 3 scramble over a boulder field.  I hated it, but I can DO it!   Gazzam Lake was no exception in terms of revelations and insights.  Not far from the trailhead, I ran into two graffiti-covered water towers that I didn’t even know existed.  I snapped a couple of photos, but in my haste to get to the hike, I didn’t look very closely.  Then, on the way back through, I stopped to get a better look and take a “posed” photo, which resulted in this gem:

It wasn’t until after I took the picture and was reviewing it for Instagram upload that I noticed I had managed to place my head right beneath where there were some words.  I squinted to read them and finally made out, “Don’t fear the void.”  Hmmmmm….  This struck me as very profound, as I had chosen to pose in the photo as if I were standing on a ledge, frightened to even more or look down. Remember, I have a healthy fear of heights, which will be tested vigorously on Kili.  It was if I were receiving an intergalactic message of encouragement and hope!  “Go, Badger, Go!  Don’t fear the void–you can make it.”  (Just don’t look down. . . .)

According to Webster’s, one definition of “void” is a “completely empty space.”  Despite my Type A, completely obsessive, anal-retentive over-researching of Kilimanjaro and “what could possibly go wrong,” it occurs to me that THIS is what scares me most about Kili:  the completely empty space that is the UNknown of what it’s really going to be like to be in Africa, trying to climb one of the tallest mountains in the world.  (Actually, the first word that came to mind after I read the phrase above was “chasm.”)  The adventure looms large in front of me, but it’s really just a great big void, generating excitement, trepidation, and WAY too much adrenaline. According to this graffitiist, I shouldn’t fear it.  Well, okay then.

Making Lemonade Out of Lemons

It occurs to me that The Void is just generally “The Unknown.”  Our lives are just minute after minute of The Uknown playing out and becoming “history.”  As I was writing this post tonight, I got some very unwelcome news.  I learned a very dear friend, who I haven’t seen for a few years, has terminal cancer.   I’ll call him Rex.  He is receiving  hospice care, and  I am devastated.  Rex is one of the most inspirational people I have had the pleasure of getting to know.  He has always been so full of life, funny, helpful, and caring.  If anyone knows how to live life to the fullest, it is Rex.  So now he and his friends and loved ones are facing yet another one of those voids that inevitably come in life.  I know he is making the best of it and will enjoy every last minute he has, and he will do it with good humor and spunk. Of course, I’m hoping for a miracle.  Whatever happens, no one can ever take away from me the pleasant times that Rex gave me–those memories are locked in my mind forever.

Lest I leave this post on a sour note, be assured that I intend to take this giant lemon and make a little lemonade.  I am enjoying some really fond memories of CRAZY STUFF that happened with this guy that I had completely forgotten about.  Oh, you ornery devil, Rex! {Insert big smile here}  Party on!!!

In closing, my goal is to make the best of this life and live more in the present instead of in constant anxiety about what the future holds.  Rex’s illness reminds me of that again.  Don’t worry about what the next minute, hour, month, or year might bring–enjoy and appreciate the good NOW.  Go and pet your cat/dog/fish/badger, hug your family members and tell them you love and appreciate them, compliment a total stranger, and most importantly, love YOURSELF.  It has to start there.

Badger OUT.  Onward and UPWARD!!!