So(ul)journ!

765 feet!

That’s the elevation of our hometown of Westminster, Maryland. After spending the last ten days traveling with our son through Colorado and Wyoming at elevations that regularly averaged ten times our home elevation, all I can say is that it’s pretty nice to move and breathe with ease.

If you’ve been following our journey, the last ten days have been a whirlwind tour of Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks, as well as the Avon and Vail, Colorado areas. Our last few days with our son involved binge-watching Netflix shows and movies—a restful time. I won’t lie; at times, the elevation and the drier air (everywhere is drier than our hot and humid August weather of Maryland) slowed our sightseeing. Headaches indicated that we weren’t drinking enough water, and becoming short of breath reminded us that we are inhabitants of the lowlands. For the most part, we learned to pace ourselves.

Shortly before our trip out west, I picked up a book in anticipation of our journey on the Camino de Santiago (in late September) titled Walking in a Relaxed Manner by Joyce Rupp. Joyce shared the wisdom that she and her husband learned in anticipation, participation, and subsequent return from walking the northern portion of the Camino de Santiago.

The title of her book became our mantra. When our breath labored, our lungs complained, the heart raced in our ears, and our legs felt like logs, we knew … it was time to slow down, breathe, rest a bit more, drink more water, and return to our walk in a relaxed manner.

Breathe … pace ourselves … and walk in a relaxed manner.

Our return home began with the alarm clock going off at 3:45 a.m. Our flight was departing on time from Denver International Airport, and we had booked an Uber to take us there so we could get there by check-in time. Despite receiving an email confirmation two days earlier, I discovered just thirty minutes before our pickup that Uber had canceled our reservation for some strange reason. All was not calm as my mind raced to come up with an alternative. We queried the app, but no drivers came to our aid. So that meant we had to drive to Denver, inconveniencing Wes, who planned on camping later that day and overnight with a friend.

One observation: At 4:30 a.m., driving Interstate 70 through the mountains and passes from Avon to Denver is surprisingly dark! That darkness gave way to a full-blast sunrise as we fell into the “Mile-High City.” I say “fell into” because it is all downhill from 7,500 feet to 5,280 feet, and it seems to really take place in the last ten miles before hitting Denver. We arrived at the airport and all too hurriedly hugged our son and trekked our way through airport security. We experienced only one casualty: Jacki’s hiking poles were confiscated by TSA. Dangerous weapons in the hands of someone wanting to bring harm, I suppose, but buried deep in this Nana’s carry-on suitcase … breathe …

One casualty of modern manners became evident, even though the flight itself was uneventful. As our Baltimore flight arrived at the gate and the seatbelt sign was turned off, folks seated behind us in the plane started to crowd the aisle. They pushed past us while we remained seated, and I agreed with the person seated in front of me that this new trend to hurry off the plane was very rude. We’re all on the same plane; we all want to disembark. The door isn’t even open yet, people, and seventeen rows have to leave before us. We aren’t late in arriving, so even if you have another flight, you’ve got time. YOU’RE JUST BEING RUDE!” For whatever reason, this really stuck with me. My heart raced, my breathing became hurried. Anxiety started. I really shouldn’t let other people and their apparent lack of deplaning etiquette get on my last nerve.

Breathe … pace yourself … time to walk in a more relaxed manner.

Exiting the plane was a relief; it might also have been the extra amount of oxygen or the hot and humid air that awaited us as we waited for Jacki’s folks to collect us outside at the curb near pillar 38. Standing there for twenty or so minutes and watching as cars stacked themselves three rows deep from the curb, some standing and even some parked while unoccupied, surprised me. There has got to be a better way. I learned a lot these last ten days that perhaps a lot of us might consider, even at lower elevations.

Breathe … pace yourself … and walk in a more relaxed manner.

So far, I haven’t really solicited comments in my posts, and I’m hoping that I can learn from you. So, I was hoping that you might engage by considering this question:

How do you remind yourself to “breathe … pace yourself … and walk in a more relaxed manner” in the midst of life’s rush?

If you feel comfortable, please share through a comment below. Thanks for doing that.

Peace,
M