“Because I want to” feels like it should be enough.
But I’m afraid that some days, it won’t be.
I’ve been to hard places before. I know there will be moments on trail where I’m cold, hungry, hurting, and wondering what the hell I’m doing out there. In those moments, I worry that wanting it won’t be enough to keep going.
So I’ve thought about bringing name tapes—guys I served with in the Marines who took their own lives. Maybe their names could give me the strength to press on. I’ve considered fundraising for Best Friends, turning this walk into something bigger than just me.
But then I pause and ask—why do I feel like I need to justify this?
Why isn’t it enough that I’m doing this for me?
This trail is an opportunity to return to myself. To walk not with guilt, but with intention. To carry no responsibility except to be safe, to nourish my body, and to listen—to the wind, the birds, the silence, and myself.
Maybe I don’t need to hike for anyone else. Maybe I can just hike for me.
But guilt has always been a heavy pack to carry. I fear that somewhere deep down, I still believe I have to earn this. That caring for myself—wholly and unapologetically—is selfish. And if the excitement fades, if the trail gets too hard, I worry I’ll quit. Not because I’m weak, but because I laid guilt on top of a dream.
I’m trying to unlearn that.
I’m trying to believe that wanting this is reason enough.
No comments:
Post a Comment