My husband and I recently returned from a hiking trip to Switzerland.
Using a guide book that we had previously used and trusted, we embarked
on one hike that presented an unanticipated adventure, including an unmanned
gondola that carried us up 5000 feet, to the village of Rasa, our starting
point. From there the trail rose and fell from valley to valley, promising
numerous villages along the way. What the book failed to say is that the
villages have been long abandoned and where we thought to find food was
only ruins.
A strenuous five-mile loop led us back to Rasa, and lunch, before embarking
on a “gentle descent” to the village of Corcapolo. That gentle
descent turned into the most rigorous hike either of us has ever undertaken.
The only “gentle” part was a few hundred yards through a goat
pasture. The rest was a steady, rocky drop down 2500 feet to a swaying bridge
over a roaring river. There, in a moment of heart-stopping disbelief, we
saw the village of Corcapolo 500 feet above and a half mile behind us. At
that juncture numerous trails branched off, and the red and white trail
blazes we had followed all morning were no where to be seen.
A
Hike through Life
That trail reminded me of the great adventure we call life. We learn by
doing, and we trust that we are on the right path. We follow that path,
wherever it leads, and sometimes it lead to places we never intended to
go. At times we reach dead ends or numerous trails (options) open up and
we must choose and take risks, because the only way out of this hike is
through it.
This trail of life is a wild walk, filled with soaring heights, dark valleys,
unexpected twists and turns, abandoned villages where there should be life,
unexpected pleasures where we thought there was nothing and numerous false
starts. Sometimes the trail is well marked and sometimes, like our Swiss
trail, the signs disappear completely. Just when we think the trail is too
difficult to go on, a large bounder causes us to detour, and a better path
emerges. At other times, when the gloom of a valley seems never ending,
we come across a hillside meadow that gives us needed respite.
A client recently told me that she feels her new business is like a long
walk, in a dark forest. “It’s scary in there,” she says, “but
there is no option of turning back, so I just put one foot in front of the
other and walk toward the light.” She is mindful of her place
on the trail, and embracing that place, wherever it may be, is a powerful
way to live.
The Trail to Powerful Living
In a society that places enormous emphasis on the outward signs of success,
I have given some thought to my own definition of success. Borrowing from
a golf metaphor, it goes something like this: Success is playing the ball
where it lies, every time, and reveling in the challenges, the strategies,
the good shots, the bad shots, and all the unknowns that keep us from going
exactly where we think we should go. True success isn’t easy or intuitive
or even lucky. Success comes from within and requires each of us to reach
into the depths of our own character to do what we must, to trust in the
best outcome and then to cease struggling. Success is inner grit, the ability
to put one foot in front of the other on the path of life, no matter where
that path leads at a given moment.
We get into trouble when we resist too much. We think we know how it should
be. We think we can control every outcome, when in reality we haven’t
a clue what is in store for us, or even what is best. This attachment to
outcomes leads us to be fearful and disillusioned, while the ability to
embrace uncertainty and to go with the flow brings inner peace. How often
have you resisted a change or a disappointment, only to look back later
and realize that the change was a blessing?
Do you want to live in a truly powerful way? Then realize that all we
have is our best intentions, gratitude and the curiosity to see where the
road will lead. When we embrace uncertainty with curiosity and gratitude,
the trail gets easier, we have more fun, and we build the kind of success
that is impervious to outside influences.
We did find our way to Corcapolo, after a few false starts and a half-our
slough back up the mountain. We had been on the right trail all along, in
spite of the alarming view at the riverbed. We were eating ice cream at
a grotto within the hour. You just never know how things will turn out,
so you might as well enjoy the walk.
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