Whimsy & Wilderness

A Colorado Adventure Blog

The Fork

While searching for a new hiking trail I found one connected to a route I had done before, but didn’t notice at the time. I’m not one to typically go back to the same place twice, but as this part was unexplored I decided to go. The path offered breathtaking views, less foot traffic, and was overall better than its trail mate. As I walked back I noticed other various passes, and pondered where they may lead. Nature has a way of taking the literal, and turning it into an inward symbolic notion. I took a seat on a tree stump to eat my lunch, breathe in the silence, and reflect. The outdoors is the conference room for thought, and I was there to do inventory.

I think it’s important to take these moments to ask yourself questions about where you’re going, and where you want to go, as occasionally they oppose each other. It may not be as guided or clear, but pay attention and you’ll find proverbial cairns are there to aide. Not having direction or getting lost can be scary, and not only in the wilderness. We feel safer among the defined ways, and self assured knowing the summit can be reached. However, what makes us take a new path, turn left instead of right, or take a chance on the unmarked? For me, it’s when I desire a unique experience, a need to go beyond heights, see new views, possibly better ones. Lately, I’ve found myself saying “Only one way to find out”, because unless you try, there’s no way to truly know. We have to be willing to see past our attachment to the outcome, and not feed the fear of doubt. Missteps happen, and if it should, then there’s plenty of other directions to follow. When you come to the fork in the road, know you have more than two choices.


This is a Story

As long as I can remember I've had a lover affair with writing, and it started with love notes. When I was about six I would take a piece of note paper, and after applying mom's lipstick, would kiss it and scribble I love you. I'd hide them in the pocket of my mom's coat, her apron, and occasionally my dad's briefcase. My older siblings might have even gotten one, but I can't be sure. I don't know why I wanted to do it, but I do recall the joy of when they found them. That's why today I still send notes to friends, even if they live nearby. The art isn't lost on me. It's also the reason why I still have a blog, and why I started the series "Why I Wild". It's my virtual love note expanded.

I love stories, whether I'm creating them or sharing journeys of others. I love the connection it brings, because right now I've never felt more disconnected. Sure, there's social media, but it's a false sense of unity. A "like" doesn't have value, yet so many view it as worth currency. The younger generation thrives on follows and clicks where I am more thrilled to meet in real life for coffee and conversation. In person you have no filters, nothing you can hide behind. The internet is your highlight reel, but I'm more interested in what you don't post. Somehow we've become more interested in the showmanship of life than the actual man. 

I encourage everyone to connect more, chat with your neighbor, the person behind you in line at the grocery store, the cashier, etc. It's through these connections, even if brief, we learn more about the world. Let them be a part of your story, and not only a post. And if you ever want to meet for coffee and tell me your story, I'm your gal.