How The Mountain Helped Me With Expectations

     We went hiking in our local mountains this weekend and as we hiked I started reminiscing about the first time Pete took me out into the wilderness. These days hiking is a spiritual experience, getting away from all the responsibility that life brings helps me quiet, it's meditation for me.  As we sat on a fallen incense cedar tree eating our lunch, me quiet for a change, gazing out over the distant mountains I felt still. How different the experience of hiking is for me these days. My first backpacking trip was almost twenty years ago and I was painfully unprepared. We drove from the low-lying valley around the Mississippi River to some of the steepest mountains in Colorado, the Sangre de Cristos. I had next to no experience in the outdoors, in fact, I prided myself on being a “mall girl”, yet I wanted to connect with Pete and hiking and camping were very important to him, so I gave it a try. I packed my make-up bag, bought a curling iron that was powered by propane, and planned a fabulous outdoor wardrobe to impress my husband (keep in mind I was very young). We drove across the rolling hills of Missouri and through the sunflowered fields of Western Kansas, finally arriving at our mountain destination. I strapped on my fifty pound backpack and headed up the trail following behind Pete. I knew I was in trouble from the beginning. I do not like going up hill, but going uphill with a backpack was far worse. That was one of the longest days of our married lives. I was prepared to be left on the trail and eaten by a mountain lion (that is a direct quote), which at the time seemed more inviting than spending any more time with the man I percieved as my tormentor.  We finally arrived at our campsite...actually, Pete arrived first and came back for me and, at this point, the most despised backpack. I have learned much since that first trip about outdoor activities and even more about guarding against my own expectations.

     Looking back I can see that my expectations of this trip were quite naive. It was my own delusional expectations that caused much of my suffering, that and elevation sickness, but it was a good lesson.  A Buddhist would say that I discovered what they mean by dukkha that day. Dukkha is a term used to denote suffering or dissatisfaction, it's the first of the Four Noble Truths. In my life I translate dukkha like this: when I have expectations and they are not met I am dissappointed and I suffer. How many people can say they like disappointment?  Most of us feel sad when things don't go our way, or mad and look to blame someone, or we feel frustrated, we try to find reasons why it didn't go our way, we criticize ourselves, or others (my tormentor), instead of just moving on.  I think deeply about my expectations these days, I tell myself that ultimately everything works out as it should. It is hard not to be dissappointed when you don't get a job you thought you really wanted, or when you work for hours in the kitchen on a new recipe and it turns out to be barely edible, or you apply to a college and get a rejection letter, yet, it is what it is. What good will it do to be unhappy about what is already in the past?  I have learned to adjust my attitude about outcomes, to do the best I can and let it go, especially about hiking with my mountain goat of a husband.  I love to hike these days, but I hike with no expectations and, when the going gets rough, I have learned to practice mantra on the trail to keep my mind occupied so I won't be tempted to sacrifice myself to the local carnivorous wildlife again.