"A Ship In Harbor Is Safe...

...But That Is Not What Ships Are For.” – John A. Shedd

     Allow me to walk you through an epiphany I encountered while out exploring a nearby lake that was, up until just last week, completely unbeknownst to me.

     It was early on Sunday afternoon, and in a rare occasion that happens only twice a month, I had that particular day off from work. In what was an even rarer occurrence for this time of year, the weather outside was gorgeous, topping just around 60 degrees. As my morning attempt to keep a clean room became increasingly futile, I made my way downstairs to greet my roommate in his seemingly cemented place upon our couch, which would eventually prove to be the only expected experience of the day.

     To paraphrase my roommate, "What the hell are you doing inside? It is nice out, man! Get on that bike and go get lost somewhere!" Now keep in mind, this is the same guy who is always telling me that I never take a break and just relax. So with this new found encouragement I wasted no time dawning my motorcycle armor and equipping myself with adequate outdoor reading material and a hydration pack. I sprung to the door and hastily made my way down the seemingly endless three flights of stairs towards the Eden that awaited me outside.

     Keys in hand, I gave life to the bike and thrust power to its engine with the classic, yet trusty kickstarter. Moments later I was on the open road to nowhere...destinationless and without a sure plan on how to return in the event of me haphazardly channeling my inner-Wrong Way Corrigan. My sense of concern was nowhere to be found.

      An hour passes and I've long sinced roamed into unfamiliar territory, where street names and landmarks no longer have the calming powers of familiarity. Not long after I see signs for a Lake Accotink. My urge to quell my nature curiosities had overcome my desire to cruise through uncharted roadways...so I pulled into the Lake's park. 

     After dismounting my iron steed, and securing its related affects, I made headway towards the Lake's waterfront by foot. Descending the slight gradient towards the water, I suddenly became transfixed on what was in front of me. By no way was this the most visually stunning lake I had ever lay eyes on - not even by far - but it was the fact that spontaneity and disengagement from fear of the unfamiliar that lead me to this beautiful discovery. Remember that notion for later. 

     The lake was surrounded by plenty of places to "grab some ground" to sit and read. My early intentions were to do just that, but quickly decided that I could always come back there and read...this first time around I wanted to more intimately explore what I just discovered. So I repacked my books, strapped on my backpack and headed clockwise around the lake. 

     Since it was a Sunday, there was plenty of foot traffic by either runners, dog walkers, or hikers. The meandering path eventually strayed from the lake and straightened out into a colonnaded tunnel of trees. Upon seeing this feature, I was stopped in my tracks and took a moment to reflect on how nature is just badass. Not long after, I pressed on and eventually reached the end of the trail where I about-faced. Simultaneously, I reached for my phone to give my mom a jingle to get the run down of whats new with the fam. 

     The conversation lasted longer than they normally do and we had a chance to talk more about my upcoming plans for the Walkabout - a topic of contention for my mom. I shared with her some of my positive expectations for the adventure along with some of the all more apparent concerns. The conversation got deeper when we talked over some of the driving factors behind my ambitions for the Walkabout...we specifically harped on how I hope it will in the very least get a few kids (and adults) inspired to spend more time outside, going on adventures, stepping out of their comfort zones, and place more value in the incomparable satisfaction that nature provides.

     It was the final thing that my mom mentioned to me that ignited this aforementioned epiphany. She opined that she is worried about me doing this adventure alone - I guess I haven't really mentioned how this Walkabout plan started off originally...but I was never initially planning on doing this alone...but thats a bitter story for another time. My mother's concern is reasonable...I'm her son and I'm going to live out in the wild for a year, away from home, and without any consistently present support structure. However, she knows I have a good head on my shoulders and am not one to be careless but in the end shes still a mom. 

     

     I comforted her with ensuring that in-depth preparations are underway, gear has been acquired, and years of outdoor survival experience and training has furnished me the luxury of having peace of mind while I'm gone and that she should feel the same. I ended by reminding her that while fear is our greatest defense mechanism, living a life controlled by it is not really living. You only get one chance at this whole life thing and I'm damn sure that fear won't hold me back from experiencing this once in a life time journey. 

You can't be afraid to step outside your comfort zone - bringing it full circle...sometimes you must disengage from the fear of the unfamiliar. Afterall, "a ship in harbor is safe...but that is not what ships are for.” Make of that what you will...

Blindstone, OUT!