Today’s Worries Won’t Matter Tomorrow

Unless you invite them to come along.

When you do a serious hike in the mountains with miles of clamber and climb, you learn you don’t need much. The so-smart, nice-to-have essentials that fit snugly in your backpack swiftly transform into useless dead weight.

It’s not uncommon to find abandoned bits on certain trails here in New England. While the intention might be to pick them up on the way down, it doesn’t always happen when you’re tumbling downhill, struggling for secure footing, and doing your best not die on the way home.

I’ve carried important “what-ifs” into the mountains with me and dropped them early in the trek. When you’re focused on a goal that includes getting home before dark, unlikely scenarios get in the way. They block you from seeing efficient ways to manage obstacles.

The “what-ifs” wail behind me, but I keep going.

Staying present means I see, I hear, and I feel in that moment. I spot the snake, gasp at the view, and rejoice at a thunderous waterfall just up ahead. I’m panting, sweating, and grinning.

Down below, the “what-ifs” holler my mistakes, remind me of regrets, and promise things are going to get worse (and never get better). They prod my most tender spots with insistent glee.

I sip water, adjust my boots, and keep going.

This day, I clutch a marvelous find to my heart, discovered late last night when I was looking for something else…while reading the incomparable Amy Poeppel’s latest novel called Musical Chairs:

“Things can fall apart, or threaten to, for many reasons, and then there’s got to be a leap of faith. Ultimately, when you’re at the edge, you have to go forward or backward; if you go forward, you to jump together.” — Yo-Yo Ma

Here’s to many more audacious leaps together.