I’ve had a touch of writer’s block recently but I’ve just spent the evening with some fabulous people at Women’s Circle and it seems to have unlocked something in me. As we approach the summer solstice, we were talking about intention setting, about lightness, about envisioning the people we want to be and setting goals to continue on that journey. I left feeling empowered, strong, and to be honest, high as a kite.
I spent last weekend in the Brecon Beacons (again) and so thought it was probably about time for more of my self-indulgent musings from the mountains. I’ve got half a dozen written-in-my-mind posts about things I’ve learnt from being in the hills but a few of them have a sombre leaning and that’s not where my heart, or head is at today. Today, I’m thinking about expecting the unexpected.
You can make the most thorough, comprehensive plans ahead of heading to the mountains, but there will always be things you can’t forsee or plan for. No matter how meticulous your route plan is, no matter how obsessively you’ve analysed the forecasts, no matter how carefully you’ve packed…you simply cannot predict what is going to happen once you’re outside and moving. Sometimes these can be fairly major factors, like a sudden, serious change in weather that necessitates a change to your plans for safety or an injury or health-related issue that forces a re-think of the route.
But sometimes these can be small things that just take you by surprise and add a bit of joy or wonder to your outing. Last weekend, we scrambled down to the most remote place I’ve ever camped in the very bottom of a steep valley. I crossed the stream to “explore” (code for ‘needed a wee out of sight of my companions’) and stumbled across this memorial. I have no idea what it represents or who put it there but it brought a bit extra joy and wondering to an already idyllic sunlit evening after a long day of walking.
As someone who is known for being (ahem) a bit of control freak (‘Planner Hannah’ being a nom de plume I’ve been given by people around me on more than occasion over the years), I’ve been learning a lot over the last few years about how to react to unexpected occurrences and happenings. I think the key is, with grace and a willingness to be flexible.
My life doesn’t look like I thought it would at this stage a few years ago. Even compared to 6 months ago, my life is so different to what I expected it would be. This year, rather than continuing to exist in a state of denial, I’ve been working through grieving the life I thought I was going to have and starting to look forward to the life I get to build. The future is unknown, mine to mould. It’s simultaneously exciting and terrifying, empowering and lonely. I’m trying to embrace all parts of this stage, to hold and acknowledge them equally and appreciate the opportunity that lies ahead.
Did I think 3, 5, 10 years ago that I’d be spending so much time walking in the mountains and planning to take others out on them? Did I think I’d have taken on a small business and be planning to build it up alone (admittedly with so much support from some really amazing people)? Did I think I’d be a single parent to 3 kids trying to juggle a job, a business and a house move? No, no and no! But I’m really happy with where I am right now, I’m really excited about what the future holds and I’m really grateful for the incredible people around me, who on a daily basis nourish and support me (and remind me to embrace lightness and be playful – thanks guys, I love you!)
But if I continued my lifelong habit of being resistant to change and of avoiding difficult situations, things wouldn’t feel as hopeful as they do. I’d be continuing the same patterns of behaviour that just don’t give either myself or the people around me the respect and compassion they deserve. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all sunshine and flowers, but I’ve finally realised that it pays to not run away from the unexpected, that there is so much value in sitting with all that life brings, the highs, lows and everything in between. Sometimes the unexpected brings challenge and darkness but sometimes, the unexpected brings hope and light.
the starlings gather here 