XC Skiing and Death Metal

XC Ski Mission w/ dogs

 I set off on a cross country ski mission to clear my mind, but I forgot my ski boots. So now I am walking on the side of the groomed trail. I’ve got my late 90’s pop punk blasting from my jacket pocket and a belly full of candy from the Yule Night parade last night. I found the perfect spot in the parade at the first turn where every float would throw candy. But the majority of the spectators were waiting a block down, including all the children that would be my competition for gathering candy. Seeing all the candy thrown and laying on the street like litter, I reckoned it was a public service to clean up Main Street in my designated area and no one complained. When I put on my jacket to go skiing, both pockets brimmed with candy and I have very little self control. So here I am, My Chemical Romance screaming in one pocket and a pile of Hershey kiss wrappers in the other, plodding my way through lodgepole forest under a leaden sky. Not that it matters what color the sky is, I just wanted to use the phrase “leaden sky” like I am an overly serious Missoula-based fiction writer. 

I am not a serious writer. Nor am I a serious songwriter, or construction worker, or anything. That is what is on my mind today and why I felt the need to go skiing to clear my head. I keep having these inklings on the fringes of the daytime that I am at a turning point in my life, like I just completed a journey with the completion of my house and am embarking on a new phase. The only problem is that my conscious brain hasn’t quite communicated with my subconscious so once the sun comes up I am defaulting to my old habits. Then at the end of a day, when my mind is rested, this feeling of limbo arises. 

I have completed a great dream of building myself a place in the world. I took a piece of rundown, unusable land and turned it into a homestead for me and my loved ones. I have proved to myself that I can achieve difficult tasks if I set my mind to them. It feels as though I passed the first test of adulthood. Once the structure of schooling ended, I was able to apply my education to better my life without harming the lives of anyone around me. I was able to set difficult yet achievable goals for my young adult life. Over the course of eight years, I have traveled to exotic places, developed professional grade skills in a couple different career options, created a stable of close friends and a strong community presence, chosen a place to live then built a life there, all while simultaneously pursuing creative dreams that are fun and fulfilling. I will pat myself on the back for that. I will also thank all those people who helped me along the way.

And then I will plod through the snow and think about what I should do next. Five Finger Death Punch howls out of my pocket. Heavy music seems fitting for thinking heavy thoughts. It seems as though the next level of life should be a challenge of equal or greater magnitude than the last couple levels. I feel the need to grow beyond my already completed dreams, to try to make a dent in some of the world problems that plague us, to create something worthwhile beyond just my own comfort. I am thinking of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs; the pyramid of human needs that is generally agreed upon to categorize levels of personal success in a human’s existence. 

I have achieved my physiological needs of shelter and food. I am secure in my home and country. I have a strong emotional support system from my loved ones and friends. I have spent the better part of the last three years strengthening my emotional roller coasters and self-esteem. While any of these levels can fall off unexpectedly, I sit here looking at the top of the pyramid, the self-actualization triangle. The culmination that refers to the realization of my full potential. A lofty goal, and I have no idea where to start. Hence the walk and the heavy music. Maybe later in life, I will be able to look back at this moment and giggle about my naivety in much the same way that I recall staring at my piece of bare land and dreaming with no idea how to achieve what I have now achieved. I went for it then and I am going for it now. Tentatively at first, but also patiently. I don’t want to forget my lessons from the past few years about burn out and injury, but I do need to keep my foot on the pedal. Easing off now means sinking comfortably into my past glories and I feel that is unacceptable. As Nickelback reminds me of who I really am, I descend back towards my truck with both triumph and grim determination. Leveling up isn’t going to be easy, but then again, what other choice do I have?