I can see how I needed the destination in other phases of life, not the least of which was to learn and unlearn my childhood teachings. And to deal with a fire inside, one that represented passion, but also energetically transforming me. But I missed a lot while in the necessary stages of this kind of action. Thanks for your comment.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Sonya. I have noticed the way I trek changes as I go through different phases in life. As a mother now (well, ten years in!) I relish in my time outside like I didn't before kids. It's such a gift to be able to get out, unattached, so to speak. But for the same reason, sometimes I enjoy my urge to push myself and gun for the top. It's like tapping into that person beneath my responsibilities and the burden (wear and tear) that has placed on my body. I do this knowing I'm ignoring the little things along the way, but I find both experiences to be valuable - the quiet walk and the sweaty push. At least, that's how it is for now. :)
I hear this. When I was strong, I enjoyed this too. The thing that’s not ethical is when the culture at large doesn’t notice that people with mobility or disability or illness don’t have the same privilege. And refuse to accommodate their needs/wants in nature. I think ableism forgets there are people among us who require communication and adaptation. Wish I had taken this in earlier.
I’d like to learn more about what it looks like to accommodate these needs in nature. And is it with the narrative that corresponds with what it means to be on these outdoor journeys and/or the physical access to these spaces? A convo for tea perhaps!
I’ve had a glimpse (within my own experience) of how illness can affect the outdoor experience and the societal pressure to perform. I am interested in the nuance that you are pointing to here.
I can see how I needed the destination in other phases of life, not the least of which was to learn and unlearn my childhood teachings. And to deal with a fire inside, one that represented passion, but also energetically transforming me. But I missed a lot while in the necessary stages of this kind of action. Thanks for your comment.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Sonya. I have noticed the way I trek changes as I go through different phases in life. As a mother now (well, ten years in!) I relish in my time outside like I didn't before kids. It's such a gift to be able to get out, unattached, so to speak. But for the same reason, sometimes I enjoy my urge to push myself and gun for the top. It's like tapping into that person beneath my responsibilities and the burden (wear and tear) that has placed on my body. I do this knowing I'm ignoring the little things along the way, but I find both experiences to be valuable - the quiet walk and the sweaty push. At least, that's how it is for now. :)
I hear this. When I was strong, I enjoyed this too. The thing that’s not ethical is when the culture at large doesn’t notice that people with mobility or disability or illness don’t have the same privilege. And refuse to accommodate their needs/wants in nature. I think ableism forgets there are people among us who require communication and adaptation. Wish I had taken this in earlier.
I’d like to learn more about what it looks like to accommodate these needs in nature. And is it with the narrative that corresponds with what it means to be on these outdoor journeys and/or the physical access to these spaces? A convo for tea perhaps!
I’ve had a glimpse (within my own experience) of how illness can affect the outdoor experience and the societal pressure to perform. I am interested in the nuance that you are pointing to here.
One misses so much when focusing in the wilderness on the destination and not the journey. Sounds like life to me!