Today, I sat beside the lake and meditated for 5 hours. A new record. The last hostel I was at, people asked me how long I meditate for, after guessing me to be 10 years younger than I am. Another new record. Before meditating, people would guess I was 6 years younger than I was. The meditation is definitely working.

When I sat down, I expected to stare peacefully at the lake and appreciate where I was, but instead, I sat in front of a beautiful alpine lake staring at the inside of my eyelids (well, staring inside the void). When I stopped to eat an avocado (a precious commodity in the mountains; I heard dinner at the hut is strictly pasta and meat) I felt for a moment that this had been a waste. Then again, I think being able to sit in front of an alpine lake for hours pretending to be the lake carries an energy unique enough, so I decided it was a good way to spend the day.

Having sat still for most of the day, I decided to hike the long way back around the lake to the hut. I climbed up to a cave that I had been eyeing from my meditation perch, to find the worst case scenario: it was just a shadow on the rock. The rest of the walk was across boulder fields. I love boulder fields. The last time I got to cross one next to an alpine lake was when I lived in Alaska. I remember the exact hike. That day, I was so wrapped up in all of the things that were “wrong with me” physically. I had lost agility and was walking so carefully, without the usual 7 year old joy, across the field.

Today I felt good. I was floating across the stones. I trusted my footing and shoes. I appreciated how many things my subconscious manages when I do something like this. I saw spiders everywhere. The boulder field was so alive with lichen, marmot and plant life. Seemed like a good place to make a home.

I felt like I was moving fast. Too fast? Sometimes I wonder if I hike too fast and I forget to enjoy the path to the destination. I think as long as I get everything I want out of the experience, too fast doesn’t exist though. As I leapt from rock to rock, a song popped into my head. It was an old Iron and Wine song. With it came sadness. It was an old memory from a time when I wasn’t myself. I guess when you clear your mind for hours, old traumas can rise up to meet the sunshine. Despite the sadness I felt, I also felt happy. I wondered if this feeling would last. When old feelings come up, how long should we sit with it? Is it like hiking speed? I know as long as it needs, but sometimes if it dissipates quickly I feel like I haven’t released it fully. Perhaps that is a misconception or more old programming. The memory itself isn’t important, but it was a memory of a painful separation. Now, I can see how I caused it, but at the time, I was victim to it. It felt good to let it pass easily.

The universe gave me the gift of channeling when someone asks me a question or when I am moving. If I have to give a talk, it takes me days to prepare. I go for runs or hikes and the inspiration flows. I never have something to write with. If I decide to adopt a practical solution of bringing a recording device, I think that hiking with me will become like hiking with a professional photographer; everyone having to stop every 25ft to jot down a few sentences.

What am I meant to do with all of this information? I find myself thinking in blog posts whenever I walk now. I hopped from rock to rock and eventually decided to do something new: I interrupted a mission to return to the hut to sit down and write.

I had nowhere to be. But it is a self-imposed ritual that I have to get where I’m going without interruption once I’ve decided where the destination is. I’m improving with this. After all, I’m spending a lot of time without a particular destination in mind, and often deciding the day of or night before. That’s progress alone. But to stop mid-hike and take a detour? Ehhhhhh maybeeeeee. Ok, fine.

It was easy to stop. It felt exciting to write something down. It didn’t feel like it mattered what it was, just that I sit down and do it. Breaking old patterns, hooray!

I remembered today how happy it makes me to be in the mountains alone. With friends, amazing also, although this has not happened frequently for me. So tonight I’ll go have my pasta dinner (think of my avocado) and I feel full of appreciation for where I am at right now; with myself, where my physical body is, and with my connection to everything. I’ll also remember the things I’ve done that have created ripples I don’t want, forgive myself, and make positive ripples next time.

Signing off, from Lac du Rabuon; my last night in France.