Hibernation: Waking up in Zion

Possibly the easiest blog post I've ever written. It's about where I feel the most whole.

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Walking to the observation point of Zion, all I could hear was the sound of my boots and the park around me. The trees swayed in the wind and all the living things from the squirrels scampering out of the path to the leaves rattling made me aware of how much I was apart of it and how much I missed being out in the wild. I remember feeling something very distinct, and I can only describe it in one way.

I felt like my soul breathed deeply for the first time in what felt like a very long time.

You know when you hold your breath for as long as possible until your lungs burn? And then you finally take a breath? It felt like that, except I didn't know I'd been going so long without air.

I've always heard people say when you're a parent you sometimes forget who you are. For me at least, it has felt a little different. I didn't feel like I forgot who I was or what I liked to do. I've always considered myself outdoorsy. But having little kids and living where we do has made doing those things more difficult.

When I did my trial run with my camping gear at McKinney Falls State Park up in Austin with the kids, I knew I was excited and I'd have fun. But I surprised myself with how much I'd enjoyed it, which only made me more amped about my trip to Zion. It didn't feel like a rediscovery of myself. It felt like waking up from a very deep sleep. It was like the part of me that loved being out in the woods and nature was coming out of hibernation. Austin was like that first big stretch and yawn, but Zion felt like blinking and fully waking up.

I liked sleeping in a tent with a storm pelting down every night, or hearing the crickets singing in Maple. I loved the creek bubbling past as I walked the campground early in the morning. Hearing thunder roll in the distance and the distinct smell rocks have when they're drenched in rain from the night before makes my toes curl in that happy way of anticipation. I look forward to that feeling of waking up and snuggling deeper into my sleeping bag because I'm suddenly aware it's a bit crisp out. I could keep listing things, but it's easier to say I just love all of it.

I'd been worried about my anxiety flaring up in Zion. I'd left on the first day of school, and I know there's people who'd judge the hell out of me for that. So I had guilt plaguing me along with missing my family, which I thought for sure would raise my anxiety.

I understand that better now too. My therapist in preparation for the trip said anxiety shows up in three ways for most people, but you don't have to experience all of them. There's the physical—think sweaty palms, heart racing, hyperventilating type. Then there's racing thoughts and more of a mental uncontrollable spiraling. And third is behavior, like not being able to do certain things because of the anxiety it would cause.

A little light bulb went on in my head as she explained all this. I already knew I had generalized anxiety, but I'm able to manage it without medication. I didn't understand it very well, but once she broke it down, it made a lot better sense. It's more of a minor issue for me than anything else. I can function with it. I don't get the physical symptoms, but I definitely get the last two.

I was worried while on the trip that my anxieties would act like they normally do and start twisting in my head like a tornado, picking up every insecurity, flaw, and worry it could find and adding it to the mix of destructive thoughts twisting faster and faster in my head. The good news is this doesn't happen often for me, but when it does I feel like my headspace is out of control. Sleep usually helps best.

The other one is behaviors. One good example is I've totaled cars in winter more than once. Driving up north with the snow and ice sets my anxiety off to the point that I get a little afraid to drive. I will if I have to. That's the difference when I say I feel like I have it under control for the most part. But I'll avoid it if I can.

But in Maple and Zion, not a single anxiety could stick around long enough for me to consider it. I felt content, happy, and at ease just being. It wasn't just anxiety either, but other problems, issues and concerns that had been weighing on me for a long time seemed to fall off and not cross my mind. I didn't worry about the medical procedure I have scheduled tomorrow morning, or the kids and their first week of school. I wasn't worrying about different relationships in my life or what I'd do now that both kids were past the littles stage. Everything felt simpler and clearer up in one of the prettiest places I've seen. I haven't felt that good in a long time.

It didn't matter what I was doing either. Whether shooting guns, riding horses, in a UTV, hiking, or anything else, I felt more myself than I have anywhere else. I'd missed me. I'd missed feeling that way.

I spent the majority of my trip in a tent and alone on trails, but I didn't once feel lonely. The people I did interact with were usually a lot like me, sparking moments of small connections over us being happy to be there and soak it all in. It made talking to them easier and the time spent together sweeter.

It was interesting comparing Zion to where I went next. Las Vegas is one of my favorite cities. One of my college friends had her bachelorette party there years ago, which was the first time I went. There's a photo album on Facebook, I think. The other time was for my honeymoon. It's a fun city with plenty to do, or at least in comparison to most.

In Las Vegas though, it was a different kind of fun. Originally, I wasn't supposed to go to Las Vegas by myself; Jack and the family were supposed to meet me there, but it didn't work out.

It was odd experiencing the juxtaposition of Zion with the Strip. It was probably the least busy I've seen in, probably because I went in the middle of the week during a fairly hot month, but I was still surrounded by people. When I went back to my hotel room at the end of each day, I'd feel those familiar issues I'd run away from start to creep back in. Oddly enough, despite being surrounded by massive crowds, I'd usually feel lonely.

Driving back from the airport, Jack asked me what was my favorite place between the two, Zion or Las Vegas? Zion, I'd told him. He raised his eyebrows and commented that he was surprised I hadn't even hesitated answering. He knows how much I like Las Vegas. I explained to him a lot of what I've written about, and it made sense to him. He's said he felt the same way visiting new cities the way I did about being out in nature. (He's excited about his own trip coming up.)

I think I've mentioned in a different blog that I'd been gathering camping gear over the years and I think that's what I've meant with the hibernation aspect. Hibernation isn't a true sleep (I swear that's what they taught me as a kid), but a slowing down until winter is over. I think my kids being small and those early years of marriage was my winter. Fort Boggy with Jack's family has been fun, but didn't fully scratch that itch I've been feeling. It's a weird transition time right now for me, and I'm still adjusting. Large parts of me that felt dormant for so long no longer are, and when I couple that with the confidence I've found in my thirties, it makes me curious to see where all this is going to go.

The trip up to Zion and Las Vegas filled my bucket exactly how I'd hoped. I'd been feeling depleted and worn down lately, and after being out in the mountains, I feel a lot mentally stronger than I've felt in a while.

Our kids are older. I now have all the gear and a list of parks I want to visit. I'm not sure my family is quite ready for that (well, except Hannah. She's adventurous too). Jack and I have discussed getting a truck for a while, and it'll likely be my main vehicle (Silverado, please, please, please), if only because Jack commutes to work half the week, so the Kia is a the better choice for him. Our Subaru is still a great car that we've both been shocked by how much we've liked it, so I'm not sure when a truck might happen.

In the meantime, my plan is to save up for a cargo trailer—the Subaru can at least pull that. I'd like to take my dog with us when we go. I've got a crash proof kennel for Whiskey (I don't need her as a fur missile if I get in an accident, nor do I want her to get killed because she was put in the 'crumple zone'), so taking her means no room for gear, so a trailer is definitely needed. As for trucks, my only real requirement is it needs to be able to handle at least a two-horse trailer. That's it. Bells and whistles are nice but not required. I just want to go everywhere.

For now, I'll settle for the parks around Austin and north/west Texas, and weekend flight deals out of state.

I'm so glad I went.