I was walking with a ghost…
“Left foot… Right foot… Left foot… Right foot…”
“ That’s a cool looking moss… I wonder if it’s a type of sphagnum… how do you spell sphagnum? Sffffaaaaaagnuuuuum… God I hope I don’t slip on ice looking at moss”
**slips on ice looking at moss**
“JESUS-CHRIST-ON-A-BIKE!!!”
That’s how I broke back into reality while hiking 8 miles carrying 35lbs up 3000’ of incline with a death drop handrailing most of the trail on a random Saturday. That’s also how I remembered why I was on this hike in the first place… See, my Dad believed in “if you think it in your noggin, you manifest it into becoming reality… so be careful what you think”. As a kid I thought it was a whole lot of positive thinking mumbo-jumbo produced by guru’s to help stale salesmen feel better about their next failed sale. Something created by Satan to irritate me as my Dad would switch from one cassette tape to the next. All with the same message about the same brand of positivity as we would go from one lousy sales call in rural South Carolina to the next… all day… all night… every day… every night... Though some of it must have stuck because somehow, the words of guru Earl Nightingale’s “The Strangest Secret” found me in knee deep snow on a mountain in Colorado. He said… “We become what we think about”.
“We become what we think about… we become… what we think about... we… become… wh- I need to talk to my Dad”. Dear reader, what I know so deeply that you may not be aware of is that this would be impossible… because he’s no longer with us. Nope… no fun “GOTCHA” here… he died March 1st 2019 with my hand holding his in the VA hospital in South Carolina due to the slow build and decay of congestive heart disease. His heart stopped working… mine broke.
Anyway… moving on. I was on this hike because I needed to excuse myself from the world for a moment both to honor his memory on this day and to have an overdue check in with his counsel. He always had the best advice. Losing someone is hard. It’s like sitting on the couch watching your favorite movie during a thunderstorm and then BOOM!! the power goes out. Now you’re sitting in the dark, alone, covered in broken potato chips. You get up and do the thing where you flip the switch hoping for the best but nothing happens… then you realize this isn’t going to work.. you’re alone… powerless… small… what do I do now? Am I capable of surviving past this?
The ice crunched beneath my micro-spikes as I walked down the trail. No one out today, probably because unless you have skates, or a red plastic cup; ice is a great deterrent from having fun. So I took the time and talked to my Dad. I’ve done this a million times probably, but this time was different. This time… he spoke back. This time, he had advice to give me.
Most times I’ve heard my Dad “speak to me” it was like my own voice echoing in my head. It felt fake. It felt empty. It felt like I was trying too hard. The last time I spoke with him was during Night Land Navigation in Officer Candidate School in 2022. I had just covered over 100 miles in 4 days fighting through the swamps and running through pine forests of Georgia (the state with the peaches). It was a Mufassa/Simba moment where I realized I had collected my final point, fell backwards on the ground, looked at the stars, and realized he was with me. I can’t explain what it feels like/looks like/sounds like… but I just know when he’s there. It’s usually when I’m physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally exhausted; In my most vulnerable moments.
We spoke about so much. From how to be a better husband to my wife… being a better brother to my sister; how to tend to this garden I’m growing. Ultimately tying a bow on what truly matters while being alive.
Adventure is out there, and so are answers. Here’s the strangest secret that I’ve learned: Both will come to you unplanned and without an instruction book. You just have to trust what you know, stay patient and flexible, and always be willing to correct your course.