I absolutely
love Google Maps. I've always loved maps. So when I realized that Google Maps allows me to have a close look at
whatever section of the globe I want, I was hooked. I use it all the time. For one, I am basically stalking my new home (4 days till November 1!!). Additionally I have started to come up with ever-new dog walk options by perusing Google Maps. Brilliant! That way I can find new places to go check out knowing ahead of time whether there will be lots of traffic, ground coverage, views, etc. I have found one of my now favorite walks that way. At the time I was simply looking for a way to walk 'south of here'. Somehow it seemed important to me that I know a hike in each of the four directions from here. 'South of here' is a fun one... We've gone there four times including today. Today was the first day we got to enjoy a blue sky. Good stuff!
Making it to the 'place where B gets his leash taken off' I did not plan anything special for today. Just felt good without a jacket (but a cozy sweater, beanie and gloves) in the crisp and beautiful fall air. There is still some mud remaining, but the ground has become firmer, a result of both the recent lack of precipitation and the drop in temperature. It is now freezing at night.
Wandering along the dirt road I stopped to appreciate these trees, rooted so firmly in the ground. I am in awe about the diversity I experience here... the earthy ground - jord in Swedish - seems incredibly rich and home to a great variety of species per square meter. When I step onto her (in German earth/dirt is female and I like it that way) it's soft and squishy. It's more like stepping
into her. Feels grounding to me. I can't help but wonder what Buford learns when he sticks his nose deeply inside these mossy rocks and leafs. Maybe tomorrow I'll do a bit more smelling and sniffling, too. Smell and sniffle like nobody's watching...
Anyways, for the first time today, I noticed that there were white markers on some trees bracing the dirt road, guiding those who are eager to explore the woods up close and personal. I
felt
eager today and surprised myself a little. It's not like I
never go the adventurous route (most my hikes on Ramunderberget I follow signs whose destination I don't know); but, I went a step farther and actually got myself lost by design today. I kinda have this wild fantasy of being dropped somewhere in the woods - ideally by jumping from an airplane (hey, it's a fantasy, I get to make it full on) - and then given the task to find my way home. No idea why that appears so magical to me, but it does. So today, when I found that there isn't just one trail with white markers but a whole net I decided to not play it safe but actually play a little. While I got myself lost I realized that I had just taken an important step in my journey here in Sweden: I am adding risk & adventure to my life! Now I am not trying to say that the 20 minutes out of our 2 hour walk that we were 'lost' were that dangerous... but the sheer fact that I wanted to get more deeply into an explorer mode and wanted to really look around and find my way offers me a sense of relief. I still have it in me!
My whole life seems to revolve around finding the right dose of engaging in and with adventurous and risky experiences. Growing up I considered myself a chicken. Nothing against chickens, maybe they're actually no scardy-butts? Either way, I always felt shy, and hesitant. No matter whether I dealt with people or activities, I was always on the timid side. And judged myself for it. Harshly. And pushed myself. All the f-in time. Still do it. One difference though...: When I was a teen I worked super hard to improve my weakest areas. I seemed to believe that only improvements of my areas that "sucked" deserved attention. I thought I sucked at Geography and Sports. Which is why I fought for and got a highly desired apprenticeship placement in a travel agency and later became a snowboard guide and then a raft guide and then... a wilderness therapy guide. However, somewhere along the road something has changed. Because today, and during most of my time working in the field of wilderness therapy, I actually did not suck at it and actually felt right at home. And I learn(ed) for it to be OK to enjoy something. And that there isn't a need to always find other parts of oneself that suck. And that there is beauty in acceptance and joy in spending time in areas of non-suckage. Ahhh, personal growth.
Anyways, despite not being masochistically driven when working in the field of wilderness therapy (I think), I sought out encounters loaded with risk and adventure all the time. Basically every day. Life was full of it. I love the fast pace of the job. The learning that happens at all hours of the day. The sense of urgency, of feeling needed, and with it, the growing competence in creating safe places. First for others... later also for myself. [awwww, Buford just cuddled against my leg and is now resting with his warm body cradled against me.... telepathy? being a dog? sweetness.]. I am still working on giving myself the time, space, and activities that
I need. That appears significantly harder than providing it for others.
What I know for me though is that it's worth adding some risk and adventure. Because at the right dose it sparks my creativity, which in turn fuels me with life juice. You know, that energy that tastes kinda like that lightly chilled 100% grapefruit juice I got addicted to while working with the German Project in the US these past months. Refreshing, tart, juicy. Like a lightning bolt!
Today, my excursion off-the-beaten-path led to thoughts of appreciation about my shift (between continents and now towards adventure), my recognition of it, as well as the desire to capture Buford in all his beauty. He was ready, too. Posed like a superstar! Or, shall I say: a lady? Do I have to point out his hind leg position (rather typical for my rascal)? While I gotta say that I was in quite a blissful mindset, he ensured that I wasn't going to start floating. (By making the face below... and) by running kinda close to a tractor. An active tractor. Meaning it was plowing the dirt. Or something like that. But being Buford he listened to my whistling. Turned right back for me.
I looked over to the tractor cab. I only saw the silhouette of the operating farmer. Kind of expected to feel distanced. The way I often feel when meeting folks out on walks.
But, hey, this one was different.
He waved... :D
