The Flat Places

Lily and I just got home from an amazing trip to Taos, New Mexico. We hiked to the summit of Wheeler Peak, the highest point in New Mexico. That part of New Mexico is absolutely breathtaking. I can honestly say I have never been anywhere more beautiful.

It was such a fun trip—but it started off a little dicey.

My plan was to camp in the truck tent near the Williams Lake Trailhead, which is the trailhead for Wheeler Peak. When we arrived in Taos Ski Valley, though, we couldn’t find the campsite. We looked and looked, but had no luck. The area was very developed, with lots of new construction going on, so I assumed the campsite had been sacrificed in the name of progress and condos.

I was pretty disappointed.

I had passed several Carson National Forest campgrounds along the way, so we backtracked and found one of those.

The campsite was beautiful. It was surrounded by huge alpine trees, and a beautiful stream ran right beside the campsite. I started putting up the truck tent, but quickly realized that once I set it up, I wouldn’t be able to leave the site with the truck. I really wanted to do some hiking, and I knew that would require being able to drive, so I decided to set up the smaller hiking tent instead.

I enthusiastically went about pitching camp, starting a fire and letting Lily play. She was in heaven!

We enjoyed some quiet time listening to the stream and watching the fire. We ate a small supper, and then the rain started.

I tried to get Lily into the tent, but she wasn’t having it! It was a pretty cramped space, and she had no interest in being inside. So, with the rain coming down, I put her in the truck to sleep instead.

I did the best I could to get comfortable in the tent on the foam mattress. I had been struggling with a headache and back pain for the entire drive to New Mexico, but eventually I managed to fall asleep.

At about 9:30, I woke up to rain dripping on me. The tent wasn’t waterproof.

I heaved a heavy sigh, grabbed my gear, loaded everything back into the truck and headed into town to find cell service so I could find a room.

About an hour later, I was safely tucked into a cabin in Taos Ski Valley, about a mile from the trailhead. I still struggled to sleep because of the pain, but I managed to get a few hours of rest.

The next morning, I knew I needed to find some relief. I found a chiropractor in town, and he adjusted my neck, back and hip.

I felt so much better.

I went straight back to the cabin and slept for about three hours.

I never nap. But I knew I needed it that day.

When I woke up, I still had a small headache, so I took some Excedrin and drank some caffeine. I felt good enough to get out and hike a little, so Lily and I headed up the trail to Williams Lake.

Williams Lake is basically at the halfway point to Wheeler Peak. It is about two miles from the trailhead and roughly 1,000 feet above the parking area. By the time we got on the trail, I was feeling better than I had felt in days. I didn't have any pain at all. No headache. No back pain.

But more than that, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and joy.

Everything around me was beautiful and quiet. I felt like I was meant to be there.

The next day, we started our hike to the summit of Wheeler Peak. I felt great. I was so glad we had taken that little hike the day before. And I was especially glad that I had taken the time to take care of myself. I am not someone who does that very often.

When I retired from the City, I had roughly 1,400 hours of sick leave accrued and about 160 hours of unused vacation time. It wasn't because I was never sick. It was because I rarely allowed myself to take a day off when I wasn't feeling well.

The really strange part is that I would insist that my employees stay home when they were sick.

I just didn't think the same rule applied to me.

About three-quarters of the way through our hike to the summit, I was feeling really out of breath and fatigued. The grade was getting steeper, and the air was getting thinner.

And I was so thankful for the flat places along the trail. Those little stretches of level ground gave me a chance to stop, catch my breath and recover. They weren't the destination. They weren't what I had come to the mountain to see.

But I needed them.

Without those flat places, I don't know that I would have made it to the top.

And somewhere along that trail, I realized that the time I had spent taking care of myself the day before was a lot like those flat places.

I needed it.

I needed to stop.

I needed to breathe.

I needed to rest.

I needed to take care of myself so that I could continue the journey.

How often do we think that stopping means we aren't making progress? We feel guilty when we rest. We think we should be doing more, accomplishing more, producing more. We push ourselves through the headache, the exhaustion, the stress and the overwhelming demands of life because we convince ourselves that there simply isn't time to stop.

But I think the stopping is part of the journey.

I think the flat places aren't interruptions to the climb.

I think they are what make the climb possible.

I think these little adventures are that for me, too.

They are opportunities for self-care.

They give me a chance to step away from the demands of everyday life, catch my breath and remember that there is more to life than the next task on my list.

They give me a chance to simply be.

To listen to a mountain stream.

To watch a fire.

To walk a trail with Lily.

To breathe the mountain air.

To look at the incredible beauty God created and remember that I am part of that creation, too.

I think I am going to cherish these little adventures differently from now on. I'm going to be more intentional about resting. About putting less pressure on myself to perform.

About recognizing that taking care of myself isn't selfish. And about remembering that sometimes the most important part of the journey isn't the climb.

Sometimes, it is the flat place that gives us the strength to keep going.

And maybe God puts those flat places in our lives for the same reason.

Not because we've failed.

Not because we've stopped moving forward.

But because He knows we need a place to breathe before we take the next step.

So, I think I'll stop feeling guilty about the flat places.

I'll rest there.

I'll breathe.

I'll enjoy the view.

And when I'm ready, I'll keep climbing.