New Earth Wisdom

I had just gotten better from an illness that nearly took my life. Walking the dog became a challenge.

Begrudgingly, I would get up from my bed and say “okay” and force every step, missing the beauty of a puppy hopping from place to place to sniff and observe excitedly.

One day, months later, I was able to begin to enjoy the walk. It helped that it was Spring time and I could go out with bare feet. I started to notice nature: the birds, the wind, the sun. I was starting to heal through the walking.

My dog, Cinnamon had boundless energy. We got up to an hour with our walking and I was proud that I was started to feel good.

It was a beautiful partly sunny day when Cinnamon pulled me down the hill toward the walk that took an hour. This walk veered through the woods quite a bit and at times, followed a creek.

Cinnamon pulled me into the creek. I was up for the challenge.

We began to walk, carefully avoiding branches and slippery stones.

As we traversed the creek, the path began to fade slowly and then disappear. We were on our own, I guess. However, I was aware that at some point the creek made it’s way back to the path and I surmised that it couldn’t be that far.

Twists and turns took us around in swirls as we passed fish, squirrels in trees, and other birds nearby.

Suddenly, the creek became nearly surrounded and thickened by brush. I looked around for a way out and only saw the way back. As I started to go back, I looked once again at the blockage on our path. “I can figure this out”, I thought as I changed my mind.

Branch by branch, I moved as though I was a ninja avoiding setting off a motion detector. During the thickest part I paused to allow doubts to surface and drift away, and I kept moving branches to find spaces for us to narrowly fit through.

Eventually, we made our way to the other side. ‘No going back now’ I thought out loud, not wanting to do that again. ‘The path must be close’, I thought.

Next we encountered a beaver dam. We were able to climb over and around it.

I heard gushing water and began to get curious as I remembered there was a part of the stream that looked like a mini waterfall. I began to wonder if this was possible, for us to keep going. ‘Would it be dangerous?’ was a question I dismissed as I felt a surge of knowing that exploration would be our best option.

As we rounded a corner, the water was gushing past us.

It was beautiful. I realized instantly that the mental picture I took could never diminish. There were almost stairs made of rocks that traversed the waterfall, even stairs that made the flowing water cascade elegantly down. It looked like a magical staircase. The water seemed to agree as it sparkled from a shimmer of sunlight. It wrapped around in an arc, as though displaying it’s grandiosity.

Cinnamon looked worried, but I led him up the stairs. For the bigger stair, I decided to pick him up, but I helped him a bit so i didn’t hurt his ego. (If dogs have ego that is?)

At the top, there was a deep pool of water that we stepped into and I realized i was thigh high into the sand that was sinking. I pulled myself out with a nearby tree as I saw Cinnamon had gone around. (There are times where you need to trust your dog, friend, or whoever will help you avoid those deep puddles!)

At this point, I was so tired. I wondered if I could make it. We kept going, and the turns and twists continued. I began to think we were not going to connect with any place where we could get back to where we needed to be.

Here is where I ignored the instinct to wait just a little longer: I slightly panicked, acted on impulse and drug us through the thick woods, avoiding sticker bushes and realizing we were climbing upon dead leaves up what could be known as a mountain rather than a hill.

I forcefully got us up that hill, and finally as I pushed through some thick brush, I landed on the path that would take us home. Relieved, I saw a stranger.

“No shoes and you walked up the creek!” she said knowingly. She then explained she loved these trails and every day walked a part of them.

As we parted and she continued, instead of fatigue, I felt a renewal of energy that surged, in part because of the wonderful exchange- in part because I had done something I had thought insurmountable during a time of healing- and then the biggest part landed: I realized through this walk what I am actually capable of now. Who I am was a part of every step.

As we immediately passed the next few steps, I saw the creek that connected to the path. ‘Well, we didn’t take the easy way, but we certainly had an adventure!’ I thought, admiring the whole thing exactly the way it was.

I will never forget that wonderful day with Cinnamon. It was the first day I surpassed a limitation that brought me great joy. By acknowledging this, I continue to look for ways to surpass limitation.

Sometimes, a creek walk with a dog you love can change your whole life.