During the first few weeks of my thru hike on the Pacific Crest Trail I was consumed by nothing but bliss. Each and every day felt like a new adventure and around every corner of the trail lay something new and beautiful. Panoramic vistas, fields of wildflowers, and picturesque sunsets painted my days with joy.
Alongside the excitement, each day I was adjusting to living outside and coexisting with the raw elements of nature. For some hikers, this is one of the hardest parts of a thru hike. For me however, it was rather seamless and easy.
The transition from regular life into the outdoors was one of the easier transitions I've traversed in life. Very simply, all I had to do was let go of everything that I knew to be normal and accept the new normal - walking, filtering water, and sleeping on the ground. Within the first two to three weeks, I had mentally made this transition and was loving each and every second of my hike.
As time passed and the miles began to stack up behind me, I became introspective. When you spend every single day walking you’re forced to face your thoughts. With each step there is no choice but to remain in the present moment and deal with whatever is in the forefront of your mind.
I explored my ‘why’ and validated my reasons for going through with this journey. I dug into the origins of some of my anxious thoughts and fears. I found closure by exploring what went wrong for me in past relationships. Every day I chose to face the thoughts that I regularly avoided.
However, within all journeys, we are met with challenges. For me the challenges came in the physicality of traversing the mountains. Climbs in the desert were long and exposed and felt like they would never end. The trail would wind endlessly into canyons and valleys that seemed monotonously repetitive. In these moments my internal voice was screaming at me. I would continuously ask myself “how much longer,” “how many more miles,” “when can I sit down again?” All climbs in the desert were a serious battle for my mind.
This went on for hundreds of miles.
About 600 miles into my hike, and as we approached the Sierra Nevada mountains, I realized something that was right in front of me the whole time.
One day as I was going up a grueling and exposed climb in the Kiavah Wilderness, I had a moment of clarity. For the past 600 miles I had been draining myself with negative thoughts during climbs like mentioned above, constantly fighting my mind. My thoughts consumed me.
While walking, I would always lift my head as I went up hard climbs to peek at what was ahead of me. Each time I did that, I was filled with disappointment and doubt when all I saw was a steep trail and more uphill hiking. My mind immediately went back into a negative thought loop again. All I could think about after looking up was how the pain and suffering wasn’t ending. I was defeated.
This day was different though. After I looked uphill my eyes returned to my feet and what was under me. I realized that the brim of my hat restricted me from seeing what was ahead and the thoughts that came with it. At that moment, it all clicked. If I could just avoid lifting my eyes to see past the brim of my hat, I would have to only focus on what was happening under my feet.
This is the perfect metaphor for life and the trail. So many times in life we keep looking too far ahead and towards the end goal rather than staying present and on the path that will get us there. Looking too far ahead can discourage us from getting to the top of the mountain. It can fill us with thoughts that make us want to quit or completely abandon us from the current task.
In this instance, the brim of the hat acts like blinders on a race horse. Without blinders, the horse becomes distracted by the crowd rather than staying focused on what is directly in front of them - the race.
By using the concept of the brim, we can stay focused on the task at hand. Whether it be walking, working, writing, or even just living, our focus remains in the present when practicing this technique. By keeping our head down we can concentrate on each individual step that we take rather than getting caught up in what lays ahead. It is too often that we allow ourselves to think about the bigger picture and the end result instead of taking one step at a time.
Now, is it okay to lift our heads up and take a quick peek at what’s ahead? Sure, but it’s important to return back to staying under the brim. The idea here is to stay under the brim as long as we can because before you know it, there you stand at the top of the mountain and in a place that seemed unreachable once before. Looking up over and over again only drags out the situation more and makes it feel like a never ending battle. It removes us from the present.
After I began to implement this practice into my daily life on trail, climbs became much easier. More often than not, I would surprise myself when standing on a summit or at the peak of a ridge wondering how I got there so quickly. It was simple though, I remained present and avoided distraction. When doing this, I found more enjoyment in the climb, better overall presence, and much less negativity.
This was one of the most important lessons that I learned from my hike and I have constantly muttered the words “keep it under the brim” ever since that day. Life moves fast and naturally – we’re always looking toward what's next rather than what’s right here. As human beings, we have this wild capability of staying far ahead ourselves and not slowing down to live in the moment.
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