Talk Without Speaking

Where I was:

The steam coats the windows preventing me from seeing the dreary rain that is dribbling outside. That chill would be a welcome relief right now to my drenched-in-sweat body, lying here on the floor. In truth, my body is already cooling and the clamminess of my mat is mildly bothering me. My quietly spasming muscles are reporting that this was no yin class. “yes, I know”, I tell them. The drill sergeant du jour is telling me to quiet my mind and let it all just fade away…

Where I went:

For the something-hundredth time my foot has sunk down into a freezing wet mess of bog and I stare down into this goop as I squelch my foot back into its temporary space in the darkened and cloudy air. Yes, darkened. Despite near 24 hour ‘daylight’ this deep mist/cloud combo has sunk so low into the valley that I feel like I need to hunker down to walk beneath it. I’m not exactly afraid per se but I’m certainly tense; the awareness of cold and wet and fatigue – well they are all hiking right along behind me, just waiting to catch up. Through the mist, away from the river, I see a boulder that has stubbornly persisted in not being covered by this swamp and I soaker on over to it. The hut that we’re hunting for is nowhere to be seen and hey, that’s not terribly surprising given our current 3:30am shrouded visibility. I have decided that my hiking boots are useless at this point and so I unlace and pull this freezing leather off my feet. Looking ahead, I see my companions as they pick their own paths and their progress is, for the moment, enough to convince me to continue.

Of thousands, I can pinpoint in my head, the absolutely hardest step I took on a 12 day hike. Why this popped into my head as I try to find quiet peace on my yoga mat, I’m not really sure. I thought about it at the back of my head and decided that the relationship might have come from persevering through challenge.