a lot of love and compliance
I'm not sure where this falls on the brave/stupid spectrum, but I did something very out-of-comfort-zone yesterday. I drove out to Zuma Canyon and did the entire route on my own - complete with scrambling, grappling, leaping, wading, and sometimes swinging from rock to rock.
I was very nervous about this. There are a lot of variables out there. It's miles off-trail. The creek - and its shore, where there is one - was teeming with watersnakes and big ol' honkin' spiders (I am a fairly dedicated arachnophobe) and poison plants, and the rocks themselves are none too safe to go scrambling around on without someone to count on. I told one person where I was, but he's never been there; there are no real landmarks, and it'd take forever to find me if I needed it.
But I did it anyway.
And it was good.
I mean, I banged up my knee a bit - but it was worth it to see just how fast I could go (quite admirably fast, I'm happy to report). And to hang out with a many-spotted bullfrog, which was the size of a kitten and flirted amiably as it swam around the choice real estate of its beautiful little waterfall.
I'd have an easier time finding the rhythm of my own proprietary space if everyone hadn't disappeared so fast, I think. I didn't have time to make peace with my own company. But I'm beginning to. And building anew. Again. Like breadmaking - you have to let it rise, or it comes out all flat at the end and you're sorry you didn't take the time to do it correctly.
Soon, I believe I will find ways of dealing with the sound of my own thoughts that don't involve taking four NyQuil and tucking myself in at 9pm.