Friend died, tragic     

No answers in western religious dogma   

Usual suspects were there for escape   

Dull the pain   

Shortsighted 

Eastern approach, answers on the inside  

Lot of work.  

Difference between knowing and doing  

Back to West  

Therapy  

Combine inner work with a helping hand

Kindness to self, respecting the journey. 

Path rocky, endure  

I kept telling myself my feet were starting to feel normal 21 days after standing on top of North America. But my feet were telling me to ask my girlfriend, Ana, to slow down on our hikes. While I longed for some R&R after climbing Mount Denali, Ana was energized and ready to conquer every inch of Alaska. Finding our typical compromise, we hiked up and down all of Alaska, and finally reached one last hike. Armed with a can of bear spray strapped across my chest, which became oddly routine, I bent down to lace my boots and placed the second can of bear spray in the side of my backpack. So far along our hikes, we were lucky to witness Alaska’s infamous wildlife from a relatively comfortable distance.
We started the hike like many others as we walked by still stemming piles of bear scat. The irony of our bear preparation was that the Alaskan locals constantly reminded us to be extra careful of the moose. In fact, moose injure more people than bears do every year. As Ana was moving along at her usual, swift pace, and I moseyed along behind her, she was suddenly startled by movement in the brush. Time crawled as I saw Ana only 10 feet in front of me and I realized the distance between us seemed to grow with every passing millisecond. We both froze as we tried to remain calm. We were pulled back to the present and realized Ana was less than 10 feet from an enormous bull moose.
The moose lifted his head and stared at us still munching his foliage. I looked for cover only to appreciate the path cut into the side of a mountain, creating an abrupt drop and steep incline with only saplings and bushes. Ana began tip toeing back towards me and we froze once rejoined. Our silence was broken when Ana wondered aloud, “What do we do?” The answer was simple: we would turn around and walk back to the car, but we hesitated. In an adrenaline-fueled decision, we felt compelled to continue. We chose to impatiently stick to our plan and not let nature interrupt our planned experience of being in nature. While we were discussing, the bull moose had emerged from the brush onto the trail to reveal how enormous he was. We backpedaled as the moose fortunately only wanted to cross the trail, paying us no mind. To think we are important in the moose’s day is something only the humans species can have the self importance to imagine. As we began our approach to sneak past the moose, even the birds seemed to hush in anticipation.
Right then, Ana farted. Ripping through the silence. Prompting our hasty retreat. The moose saw us, but only gave a whimsical glance- taking us about as seriously as we took ourselves. The fart snapped us back into reality and we appreciated the need to step back.

Sitting on the trail waiting for the moose to pass, we began engaging with our surroundings: the multiple shades of green on the shrubs, the different types of saplings, arctic ground squirrels scampering, insects scurrying. The moose forced us to take pause and appreciate the need for patience. We tried to impose our will onto Nature and were lucky to come out unscathed.
By now the moose wandered away, but as we continued down the trail it felt different. The moose imparted a gift. We had a new appreciation for patience.
Some days I find myself searching for a moose. The proverbial enormous animal to stop me on the trail of the daily hustle, to appreciate the different shades of green. Fortunately, I can still invite that moose to step onto the trail of my plans and routines long after our last Alaskan hike.