As in

Navigate

As in

Use a compass for the first time

Also as in

Find my True North

Whatever that means

I am typing from inside my roomy new Big Agnes tent (brand chosen after what I would consider extensive research on “best ultralight backpacking tents”), still connected to WiFi in my backyard, which is “the garden” to my English flatmate.

Come to think of it, I have never once vocalized my skepticism of her name for this place; it brings me joy to imagine this untamed ground, overgrown with wild daisies, as a garden, something that traditionally requires tending to.

I’m still in Auckland. And it is still raining. But from here, inside my mostly dry tent, the tap-tap-tap of the rain rings above me. And it sounds quite charming.

Dare I say it.

Also, I am doing this thing that a good backpacker must do called reducing redundancies

which non-coincidentally means

I must shed the weight of the things that do not serve me in my journey

Like the many, many expressed worries of my friends and family

And my laptop (gasp)

And my Doc Martin sandals (sad face)

Because I just cannot bear the weight

And that metaphor is about as spiritual as it gets for me and it also, in practice, means blogging from my phone — which will be the least painful of my challenges, I am certain.

I am in this tent, under the rain, in my backyard in Auckland because less than one month from now, I will be in this tent in a new place, Bluff, the southernmost point of the South Island of Aotearoa New Zealand. And I must practice.

Obviously.

And sometimes my motivation to practice wanes but never does my desire to go on this long walk of mine.

Did I mention my walk already?

Te Araroa will be my first ever through-hike. It runs 3,000+ kilometers up the length of this country and I am going to try to walk the whole damn thing!

And here, it feels safe for me to say “try.” And I am so grateful I have created this space for myself to feel safe with a simple “try.”

There is ease here. Even when thinking about this terribly hard thing I am about to try to do.

As for my True North:

Aside from injury, getting lost on this little walk of mine is my biggest fear.

And in exactly the perfect way, this also acts as an exactly perfect metaphor for this phase I am experiencing.

To state it succinctly, as far as I can tell, I must choose, every day from now until forever, which way to go.

And I thank Goodness I get to choose.

And it is terrifying that I get to choose because what if I choose wrong?????

It will take me roughly 4 months but time is a weird thing these days:

Whereas I have for my whole life been measuring time by numbers on a (digital) clock, I have lately been measuring time as

Until I finish my Americano

And I envision myself soon only measuring time as

Until my legs stop hurting

Or

Until it stops raining

Or maybe even just

Until I feel like it

xx

Until You Know Better

Take a Yin yoga class!

Take a bath!

Eat some butter paneer!

Enjoy the comfort of a bed that is yours and a warm shower daily! Maybe even twice daily!

Great Artists Steal

I have been reading Windswept: Why Women Walk by Annabel Abbs and find myself increasingly excited to first just start walking and then maybe figure out why I might be walking

I have been listening to The Unexpected Joy of the Ordinary by Catherine Gray and find myself remembering the importance of noticing and also wondering what is the point of noticing if I won’t remember