04:47 - up, kettle on.
06:00 - leave house
07:25 - on the trail
St Cuthbert's Way, Pennine Way circular, 40 kms. Self supporting, which in the current warm spell included 4 litres of water, coffee, rations for 24 hours, sleeping bag, warm kit, spare socks, torch, water purifier, waterproofs (it is Britain after all), battery pack, map, compass and my shades of course.
What I found was peace, a sense of the world/the universe/the divine giving me a not too subtle dig in the ribs to make me look up and see the beauty in front of me and the phenomenal power pack inside of me that is fuelled by our experiences, integrity and authenticity.
This week was never going to be easy, it was rather like walking down a narrow valley with the uneasy feeling that at the end of the valley was going to be a vertical drop or an ambush killing zone. You keep going because there is no other way but...
I was off work this week but Wednesday was the only day off I had in the week and I had ear marked it for me to have a day away, Hence a 04:45 alarm to ensure I got as many hours as I could out of my day off,
Then it hit me, slowly at first, rather like the little lumps on the trail I had plotted, becoming increasingly higher and with more spectacular views as reward for the lung busting climbs, which cause the legs to wobble and your heart beat be so loud in your ears..
This was my journey
no one else's just mine and I wasn't talking about the 40kms run I had plotted; no my journey was my journey. So why on earth was I allowing someone else's journey to subsume my own. Why was someone's else path illuminating across my map markings and covering not only my waymarkings, but also the spectacular features along the way.
It was as if in that moment the heavens aligned, as if mind and body aligned, as if head and heart aligned.
my journey
I confess planning my run had terrified me because it was going to require some savvy navigation using good old fashioned map & compass work and because of the fog some nifty running on bearings work (get me). Internal squashed Katie, looking at everyone else's wonderful journeys had lost the confidence that I could even get my compass lined up left alone navigate on the hoof, but here I was doing it. Rewarded by some spectacular views (once the fog hopped it).
The hurting internal Katie watching someone else's journey proceeding along towards a destination I had once believed was mine, had begun the day doubting my own ability, my own ability to reach a destination, but once I looked at the map, the land features, took a bearing and set off, I was more than rewarded, I was blessed. For in the stepping out into the unknown, alone, allowed my own journey to become the goal, I could have happily sat out on the those hills all night long, looking at the views, hearing the wild birds, feeling the sun on my back warming both body and soul.
I had come to a point where the ancient words of psalm 121 came to life for me, "I lift up my eyes to the hills, from where will my help come. My help comes from he who makes heaven and earth." Ironically words that I use in my work with the dying and gravely ill in the hospitals that I serve in. Yet here I was not dying but very much coming alive. Recognising that in one route closing off to me forever this week, whilst watching someone I love continue to travel down it, was not an ending but a split in the path. That my journey was from this point on in a different direction.
Again, and bizarrely another piece of script, that I use in my death and dying ministry, was going round and round my head as I slogged up the hills:
And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:
“Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.”
And he replied:
“Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God.
That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.”
So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night.
And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East. (Minnie Louise Haskins)
Do you see what I mean when it seemed like all of creation was giving my a nudge on my journey.
Even when I fell out with myself at 17 miles and needed to make use of my current audible book and headphones, it was sent as if by a miracle - for the book I was listening to #BreakPoint by Ollie Ollerton, was just at the part where he talks of his use of visualisation and how he managed to find true happiness way down his journey, he also made me chuckle a lot with some of his anecdotes.
Even my route planned a few weeks ago with childish excitement for my day off, provided blessings and nudges. Early in the week I had met with some new friends at @ForwardAssist and @SaluteHer to talk about how we could do some joint working. I was immensely luckyto have this time with Tony and Paula, whose energy and drive are awesome. I came away from our time together enthused that my experiences and skills could be put to good use within the veteran's community, They had talked about a retreat they had recently run at an independent bunkhouse called 'Mounthooley' way down the College valley. It wasn't until I checked my mapping I was literally going to run through the grounds and make use of their fresh water (thank you so much). But there was more, for as I ran down the valley I came across a moving memorial to service personnel killed during WW2 on the hills of the Cheviots when various airplanes crashed. Taking time to stop and sit in the memorial for a few moments, remembering those honoured there but also my friends and colleagues who died in Iraq, Afghanistan and those who took their own lives or who came home with life changing injuries, where a timely reminder of those who no longer have the chance to step onwards on their journeys. As if the ghosts of my past had also joined in the mass attempt to get me to look up and outward at the glorious journey ahead. Thank you for Forward assisting me troops.
What I do know for now is that my journey will continue to be varied, will from now on be spent quite often solo and self supporting, and I'm ok with that; I just need to settle, check my compass and run on into the next stage - sunburnt, covered in bog mud and surrounded by the glory that is a good, authentic and integrity filled life...So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night.
And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East.
