I might have to sleep in my car tonight. We’ll see. I got back from my hike just in time, as it was starting to drizzle, before it began to pour. It rained pretty hard for about half an hour, now it has stopped again. The inside of my tent is dry but the grass & ground might be too wet, especially if it rains again later this evening or tonight, making it cold to sleep on the ground with only the thin camping layers that I have (& like).
I’d prefer to sleep in my tent because I really like it, it feels so cozy and so close to nature. But it’s OK either way. I’ll be fine either way.
I can feel my nervous system relaxing — already relaxed.
I went on a pretty hike this morning and felt so attuned to my beautiful surroundings — the conifers and deciduous trees; the herons and several raptors; the lake and ponds and creek; the coyote; the fish that jumped out of the water to eat the insects on the pond’s surface.
My mind rambles on these excursions — I’m one of those people who have almost constant “inner chatter” — but in a way that is relaxed: thoughts come and go; I see them or hear them for a moment and then let them go, without holding onto them, without obsessing; some thoughts come back, almost circling back, and I smile as I recognize them — “Oh, hello, you again!” I’m the thinker but also the observer of my own thoughts; and they do not intrude on nature, nature and my surroundings still capture my attention more than any of my own thoughts.
I’m by myself but not utterly alone. Out in nature, exploring or adventuring, my loneliness always turns into a soothing solitude. I met fellow hikers and exchanged some friendly remarks. And some of my close friends know where I am and are keeping an eye on me from afar. I’m planning to stay offline from my cell phone & email for the length of this trip: I need it. Part of the rejuvenation & relaxation that these solo trips give me comes from being offline in order to enjoy the present moment, to really be here & now, and to leave all my daily concerns behind, to free or clear my head, my mind, my soul. After the initial, intense disappointment and pain of having not just one but two buddies bail on travel plans with me for this trip to South Dakota, I’m glad I came out here by myself. These days on my own are good for me. But I also know that they would feel much more lonely and scary if I didn’t have the support of a handful of good friends who are looking out for me from afar. Half a dozen close friends of mine have the details of my current trip. Several of them can check on how I’m doing by reading me here, on this blog. And two of them who follow me on Strava have agreed to call the campground where I’m staying if they don’t see any activities on my Strava account for a couple of days in a row.
Technically, I’m still alone out on the trails and on the long drive, so something could go wrong there and I’d have to figure things out by myself. But knowing that my friends care and are looking out for me, albeit from afar, helps.
The Little Prince and the Fox 