Peak Moments
Photo left: Brian and I on a peak in Tongariro National Park, New Zealand . Photo right: Resting in sunshine on a tree trunk.
New Zealand. It’s 4 something a.m., and the pen and page are calling me. I’ve been awake for awhile, lying in bed with my eyes closed, trying not to move too much and wake up Brian. My head is already busy thinking about past and future. All the amazing experiences we’ve had and what’s to come.
I’ve always felt a bit of the gypsy spirit in me. I say “gypsy” in the sense of a free-spirit kind of living life. And I feel a little gypsy today. Not the stereotypical gypsy life of living on financial fumes and twirling around in ankle length skirts and bracelets, clinking to the beat of street music is not an accurate picture of how we’re doing this travel thing. The dancing part sounds like fun though. ☺
We’re doing our days in plastic card convenience, with comfortable hotel beds and lovely AirBnB lodging. We’re finding fresh locally brewed beer everywhere we go (thank you Google!) and local wines made from the grapes growing in perfect long rows on hillsides and valleys we pass in route to our next destination. We’ve had dinners that require sitting up on a 45 degree angle in bed until digestion takes place. We’ve eaten local, fresh, organically happy, cage free, grass fed, sun-warmed, and hand-picked. And in a pinch, we’ve grocery shopped at gas stations. We have reliable transportation on planes, in rental cars, taxis, Ubers, buses, boats, and lots of good old fashioned bi-pedding it (walking). I love how mobile we’ve become and how nice it is to discover we can live so lightly day to day. We can (and did) leave behind, throw away, ship home, and give away so much on our journey so far.
Although we’re moving around a lot and not staying anywhere for long periods of time, I feel a connection everywhere we go, a sense of belonging without a label or a name that people know me by or an acknowledged status of “what I do.” In some ways, I feel more at home with who I am and where I am than ever before. There’s an easy way of simply being in places and with people I’m seeing and meeting for the first time. Why is that?
I think part of it is because there’s no expectation and no history to create even a morsel of assuming that I know how a new experience or conversation will go. My mind and the rest of me is definitely more open and receptive. I’m more available to be in a moment and see the good in people. In some ways, I think I’m learning how to tune out the negative and tune into the positive. Although both exist, I’m seeing and experiencing how very vital my attitude is. How I choose to see and be in moments shapes my version of the day. And every, I mean EVERY, turn we take, there is beauty. Pure. Breathtaking. Beauty. It’s a beauty that bubbles up an energy inside of me that feels like I can fly. We heard and read about the places we’re visiting, and each commentary or conversation promised sights that would “blow our minds.” I can tell you this is true. In addition to the beauty of the land, the FEELING I get coupled with all I’m seeing is something I’d love to package and store in bulk quantity, available for everyday use and sharing.
I am having a ton of these peak moments, and the feelings that emerge from what I’m seeing and doing leave an impression on my soul. It’s changing me, shifting my perceptions, inspiring me, and waking me up at 3:30-4am with a desire to write about it! Or it could be insomnia from too many fries, veggie burgers, and craft beer! At any rate, I’m awake, and I’m going to write these thoughts down before the sun wakes up and our day is propelled into travelling motion again. As I sit here on the living room floor of our motel room writing by the light of an orangey warm street lamp just outside our slider door, I realize that this very moment is a peak moment too. I ask myself and you, how do you define a peak moment, and/or do you recognize one when it comes to you? Or do you think peak moments are self-made, that you need to put in a certain amount of effort to make them happen? Or maybe it’s a combination of showing up and then receiving them?
A few days ago Brian and I hiked 12 miles up mountains and through valleys on the Alpine Crossing in Tongariro National Park. We had views you see on magazine covers, in IMAX theaters, on travel websites where the lighting is perfect and the sky pulls you into its blue. That day was a peak moment for sure. That sky had a clarity and 360 degree expansiveness that infused me with a desire to hug and high five everyone in sight.
Earlier that morning, around 6:20am, we hopped on a bus that took us to the starting point of the 12 mile trek. A cheerful hike coordinator handed us a map with useful descriptions of each part of the journey ahead, including levels of difficulty and how to manage our energy, where to empty our bladders, and how to prepare ourselves mentally for the difficult climbs. One note stood out to me, and it read something like, “Remember to look all around, not just at your feet as you’re taking care to step safely. Look all around, turn around and see what’s behind you and look to your left and to your right. Look ahead. Keep looking and take it all in.”
One of the climbs was called The Devil’s Ladder, and it was, well…hellishly nuts. It was steep and long with lots of loose gravel underfoot. Along the climb were varying sizes of boulders that were useful for grabbing onto and hoisting ourselves upwards to give our legs a break. At times, they became an obstruction that called for even more leg strength to maneuver up and around. I’m glad I didn’t know how steep these climbs were…I started them with an open mind, and I think that really helped me keep my head in a positive “I can do this” place. (…..The street light I’m using for my writing light just popped off for the night. The sun is coming up. I really want to keep writing…I’m not even sure I could go back to sleep if I tried!…)
Back to the hike…At the top of each peak, we caught our breath and rested. There was a sense of relief as I received the reward of a view that was huge and gorgeous. I also felt a sense of accomplishment when I looked back and down the mountain we had just climbed. I could see other hikers making their own climb up. And then I looked at the valley we crossed before the mountain, and the people looked so small from where we stood. Then I turned again and looked forward to where we were headed and at the people who were already on to the next part of the trek. All of this was a visual reminder of the flow and perspective of life itself! We are, and time is, constantly moving, and depending on where we are on our course, it may be hard work or it may be a time for rest, reflection, and contemplation. We are all travellers on our own unique paths, and we all have our own perceptions of how our lives are unfolding. How we see life shapes our capacity for joy and our potential to feel connected with life and the moment.
Brian and I both took time to look around, turn around, and see where we were and where we had been. From the approach of a big climb to the view at the top (the usual definition of a peak moment) to the descent on the other side, we saw and experienced the same mountain from different perspectives. We talked about how we have a choice about how we see the mountains and valleys in life. We can be filled up by them, learn from them, get taken down by them, or miss them completely. The moments come and then they are gone. We can look back and acknowledge them and perhaps decide to live with the memory of them. We can decide how that memory shapes our perception of what’s happening now and what’s to come. We can walk away and move on.
My first peak moment of the day is now. Instead of building up the requirement that a peak moment depends on something huge and out-of-this-world happening, instead of believing that getting something I really want will catapult me into a peak of lasting happiness, today I’m taking a “peek” into a smaller, exquisite peak moment. I’m noticing how soft and warm my hoodie feels against my skin and how sitting in a quiet room feels so luxurious. And I’m thankful how each new day, without fail, greets me with light and the chance to see what’s out there once again. This is a peak moment, and I’m taking in the views and feeling so at home in my gypsiness. I invite you into your peak moments today.
