Escape or Pursuit, the Path May Be the Same

Have you ever just wanted to escape from your surroundings? Drop everything, pull your money out of the bank in cash, hit the road, and leave everything else behind. At its core, this desire to run away, leave my problems in my wake, was at the center of the genesis of the Newport to Newport Transcontinental Pilgrimage.

Four years later, the desire to hit the road has not diminished at all. If anything's happened, that draw has gained strength, but some things have changed dramatically.

Back then, in the dark ages, the desire to escape was the only consideration. It would not have worked. I wanted to escape from myself, and try as one might, I'm pretty sure that hasn't ever worked for a person, past, present, or future.

The road still calls, but now, I think I'm moving toward something rather than running away. Escape or pursuit, the path may be the same.

Nuclear Reflections - Greenbury Point - Annapolis, MD

I suppose the lesson that I'm learning is that thoughts can take you down a path that might not be in your best interests, but on the other hand, it's worth considering them for positive things they might offer.  Even the crazy ones.

I don't know what will happen tomorrow, but I'll keep putting one foot in front of the other and have faith that the path will continue to rise up to meet me. The next step will be taken in the context of faith that the universe is conspiring to bring those things into my life that are meant to be there. It's been quite an adventure so far.

First "Sale" - The Beginning of a Photography Market?

The birth of the notion surrounding walking long distances was firmly rooted in the idea that walking would allow me to shrink my life a little. Let's face it, when you're moving at a walking pace it's pretty difficult to get too very excited about things that are happening outside of arm's reach. That's what I thought when I started this process anyway.

Life has a way of giving you what you need rather than what you expect, and walking turned out to be one of those cases. At the beginning, walking did shrink my world, but that's because most of the world that I knew was pure fiction being invented by my mind.  I remember the first six miles of walking I did in a semi-serious manner.  Not because I had the incorrect footwear, and I'd managed a pretty bad blister at that point.  That happened of course, but the thing that strikes me about those first six miles is that I could not escape the debate raging in my head.  I was wondering what it would feel like. I was worried about being bored. I wondered what the turnaround point would look like, and if it would bring a sense of elation or dread.

Seventeen miles later, my outlook has shifted just a bit. By that point, after walking on blisters for about eleven miles, my primary focus was my feet. I didn't care what it would feel like to get to the end.  I just wanted the interminable miles to end.  I'd seen the turnaround point, and it turned out to be just about like every other point on the walk.  My world had certainly been minimized to arm's distance.  Thinking about any more was too difficult.

As time passed, and my mind continued to calm, the debate subsided. I started to notice things I'd never even imagined existed as I'd become used to passing them at vehicle speed. While the space of my life had contracted, the richness of the experience started to expand as seeing took a back seat and observing took over.

Sometime during that transition, photography became a practice that crept its way into my routine, and at that point the expansion of my world really took off.  It's too long of a story for a short blog post, but my photography began to shape my social networking behavior. When in the past, I rarely passed up the opportunity for an internet battle, the calmness of mind that was developing began to pull me away from that sort of behavior.

About twenty months later, I've gotten to the point of posting only pictures and offering only encouraging comments to my fellow etherworld travellers. Even photography is a pretty light touch since it's rare that I post more than one or two photos a day.

As time passed and I practiced, I'd like to think I've gotten a little better at the mindfulness and the photography aspect.  I've even begun to think it may be a way to earn a  living while pursuing the pilgrimage. That's probably wildly optimistic, but just a few days ago I took a photo at a location I frequent that someone offered to purchase.

Settling in for a Long Winter - Severn River - Annapolis, MD

First, I'm exceedingly grateful that my photography is triggering a positive reaction with my friends. Secondly, the possibility of developing a market for my amateur photography, albeit a very small one right now, heartens me and gives me the courage to realize I might be on a the right path.

Instead of selling this print, I'm going to give it away. The encouragement is more valuable to me than any monetary remuneration. I few days ago I was a crazy man with a dream, but my friends encouragement has banished the crazy and put the doubts back in the box.

This photo is going to that brave individual who was willing to ask for it, and it will be retired as a one of one artist proof.  Similar to businesses framing their first dollar, I hope to look back on this photo as the place where my journey finally really got traction. Thank you Nikki for the encouragement, and although I don't know what will happen tomorrow, you've given me the courage to keep stepping along.

Leaning Into the Dream

A series of events happened this week that have pushed me deeper into pursuing the dream of walking from Newport, RI to Newport, OR.  It's been awhile since I told the tale of the beginning of this journey, but it's worth recapping a short version of the story here.

About four years ago (almost to the day really), I had managed to earn my way into a very dark place in my life. I couldn't stand staying where I was, and I really couldn't imagine moving forward. All I really wanted to do was escape, and the notion crossed my mind to drop my job, my possessions, and all other attachments and strike out on the road headed west.  I was in terrible physical shape, and I had no real plan other than to escape the pain that I'd created for myself. It was a silly escape fantasy, and fortunately for me I went in another direction.

The narrative of that branch of the trail is a completely different story, so I'll let it sit for now, but about a year later, I found myself in a much better place.  I'd begun the process of shedding my demons, and my physical fitness was on the mend. My thinking had changed from a feeling of crushing entrapment to optimism.  My work, relationships, finances...almost everything that defines the standard notion of the "American Dream" had improved.  One thing that I kept from that dark morass of hopelessness was the notion of the walk.

I have no inkling why this idea proved to be so sticky. There was nothing really to escape from at this point, but there the idea sat...percolating. I decided something had to be done.  The idea was crazy. It was irresponsible. There was just no way to "earn a living" (more on this notion of earning a living in a later post) walking across America. Something had to be done to rid myself of this idea, so one day I mentioned it to Rory Conlan (you know him, the guy who is overdue on his once every six month post promising more posts).

Rory is a responsible sort. I've even accused him of having an overdeveloped sense of responsibility from time to time. He's steady, practical, and traditional. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would hate the idea of walking across America. He'd tell me it was irresponsible. Crazy. Not the right thing to be thinking about doing much less seriously planning on doing it. I'd verbalize the sticky idea, and he'd give me all the logical reasons it should be discounted immediately. I was not wrong.

Rory performed admirably. He laid out his case. He reacted with great skepticism. He went through a long list of reasons that it couldn't and shouldn't be done. He appealed to the irresponsibility of it all. He poured cold water all over my silly notion. The flames had gone out, and I left that conversation with only a little ember of thought that I was sure would fade with time.  My plan to get rid of the idea had worked.

Two weeks later, I was on a call with Rory, and he brought up the walk. He asked me where I had thought it might happen. I'd done some initial research, so I said the thought before he killed it had been to walk from Newport, RI to Newport, OR largely along US Highway 20. I hadn't named the walk yet, but that was about as far as I'd gotten.

I began to get a little anxious. Rory was making positive sounds. Then he did what I thought was about a 50/50 chance when I first told him about the walk. He said it sounded like a fine adventure. The embers of the idea burst back into a little flame.

Over the coming months he and I talked about the idea more and more. We both did more research. We talked about ideas for funding it. I wondered what it would feel like to walk 3300 miles, and I wondered how long it would take. I eventually settled on a 30 mile per day target, and we continued to talk. Eventually the talk led to action, and we both began to train.

We've had setbacks since then, and we're still not out on the road. Lot's of things have happened in my life, but the dream of the walk continues to be pushed to fruition through work and the gentle hand circumstances beyond my control. Just this week, I was given the gift of more discretionary time to work toward the dream that is slowly becoming the Newport to Newport Transcontinental Pilgrimage (N2N-TCP).

College Creek Sunset (from a few days ago) - Annapolis, MD

I continue to encounter enriching experiences along this journey. I've gotten outside. I stopped watching television. Many of my worries, things that I once thought were important enough to drive my anxiety level higher than warranted, have vanished.  Today, I've walked eight miles, and I'll probably get in a few more.

I don't know what will happen tomorrow, but four years later, we're closer to the dream of the N2N-TCP than ever before.  I'm enjoying the trail, and I'll keep pushing forward.

Thursday Waning

I'm pushing pretty hard now at my day job, but walking is still getting done. Today the universe delivered on another spectacular sunrise.

Anacostia Sunrise - 11th Street Bridge, SE, Washington, DC

I hate to admit that the quality of these postings seems to be slipping, but rest assured that the work behind the scenes is still happening.

Rory has hatched a scheme to fund our pilgrimage by volunteering to be the subjects of medical experiments along the way. It's really not as crazy as it might sound, and he's got some contacts so he's going to pursue the enterprise a bit. I told him I was all in, so we'll see where it all goes.

Every day is a grand adventure, and I'm looking forward to what will be thrown our way tomorrow.

Spring Has Arrived...With Some Snow

Well, spring has arrived on the east coast of the United States.  I'm happy to report that today represents the longest single day of walking since I injured my foot with just under eight miles completed on the exercise circuit. I could have done without the snow.

Gray Skies Over Spa Creek on the First Day of Spring

My whine about the snow notwithstanding, today was a pretty good day on the walking front. In addition to the continuation of recovery from injury, Rory and I may have identified our first disciple on this pilgrimage. He's and acquaintance of mine that shares a penchant for rash decision making, and after a particularly frustrating day at work with one of the better know non-profits he declared to his boss that he was bound and determined to walk across the United States as an awareness and fundraising campaign.

He later admitted that it was an act of escapism really, but that didn't sound as good when spoken at a high volume in his senior's office. This initial decision sounds eerily familiar the the emoting that landed me in the current predicament, so I suggested that he start training. Like my initial assumptions, he has what is probably an overly high opinion of the number of miles per day and how many days in a row he can put those miles down on the trail. 

I've found there's really only one cure for this sort of thing. The cure is to start to walk. You'll either convince yourself that you're crazy, or you'll find what you've been looking to see for a long time. For me it was the latter. 

Even though he's probably as crazy as Rory and me, it feels good to have a potential partner. With only one, things are lonely. With a partner, things are tolerable. Three...now, three is a coalition, and who knows what will happen when a coalition's ideas begin to acquire a tangible form. We'll see tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it.