My whole life I’ve been affirmed in trusting in a Paramount Calling. Heck, as a kid I was going to be the Dr. Who Cured Cancer, for which I would be elected President of the World. From there I would put an end to Hunger, Disease, and Poverty.
Then time and reality brought about context. I ventured through College, Oxford, Alaska, Mallorca, etc. As a wanderer there is constant vacillation between ‘escaping/running’ and ‘searching/chasing.’ During Uni I was searching for knowledge; for the next few years I ran from my failure to immediately and wholly fulfill the early dreams; then questioning whether they were even ever what I wanted, or was I trying to to impress my Father? As long as I am venturing into the realm of Carl Jung, let me use his words as a segway:
As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being. ~ Carl Jung
Hiking the PCT allowed me to access a primal depth of self. Subsequent bouts of identity duress are that much more intense (Daily yoga and lots of time outside keep me on the safe side of sane). I become befuddled trying to unravel the direction and flow of cause and effect. To what degree do I go out and search for my calling and how much do I trust it to present itself freely and clearly? Then I remember what I lived on the trail.
One such sign recently manifested for me in the form of a visit by Cloudbuster and Dani. In Trail Family terms, Cloudbuster is a cousin of mine. The most fortified vegan I’ve ever met, we traveled in the same trail neighborhood. Passing each other in town and crashing in the same garages; running the miles of NorCal talking about punk rock, poop, web videos, and otherwise plumbing the depths of humanity.
Now driving across the country in an MX-5 Miata, he and Dani (an Alanis Morissette look-alike yoga instructor with a vibrant heart and endearing smile) made time to visit. It was good to reminisce, and in so doing, to be reminded those were only 2663 miles of a much bigger adventure.
We told stories, made plans, and played a game of Scrabble, the crowning words of which will never be found in any Dictionary. The next morning they and all their belongings somehow collapsed into negative space and fit into that tiny, black vehicle, and away they went. Again and always both chasing and running.