Of Rules and Breaking Them

52 hikes, 52 weeks

Hike #1, November 24, 2017
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I set goals that keep me engaged. So I signed myself up for the 52 hikes in 52 weeks challenge. I walk the first of 52 hikes. What will I learn by doing this? I have hiked 52 hikes several times in the last few years of my life. So why commit to an official counting and recounting? Walking and writing keeps me honest. Walking and writing about it can inspire others to take up walking. Walking and writing keeps me that much closer to the essence of living.
My first hike is familiar, a quick jaunt into the hills while the sun is warming the day for a while, my sourdough bread is rising in the kitchen. I often choose this hike because I don’t have to get into a car to get to the trailhead, my breathing gets going strong as I go up and up to the top of Bandersnatch trail. I feel my body working, enough to shed layers and gloves. I’m healthy, I’m thankful, I love the feeling when my quads contract and move me up into the hills. The yellow light dances, filters through the evergreens and now bare black oaks, touch the tips of fine filigree ferns. The madrone trees ignore the seasons and shed their crisp leaves and bark in an ongoing brown and maroon symphony. I’m happy.
I meet the first dog on the Ashland Loop Road before I enter the trail. The owner grabs the dog’s collar to let me pass. I greet them. I meet the second dog, dressed in neon orange safety vest a little up on the trail. “Where is your owner?”, I ask because I don’t see a person following. The dog turns back around the bend and joins his owner. The owner puts the dog on the leash. I greet the owner. She unhooks the dog as soon as I have passed. Mm, why can’t people follow the rules of the trail? My dog-hiking sore spot is showing itself. I meet the second dog a little further up, owner talking on the phone. I ask if she can leash her dog. “Oh, I didn’t see you”, she says. She leashes her dog, I thank her for following the rules of the trail. She answers that she lets the dog off-leash by mutual consent. I’m not aware that I consented. I feel miffed, she’s playing with my head.          I meet a father and daughter who have their dogs on leash and hold them close off trail to let me pass. I thank them. More people without dogs are enjoying an opt-outside day.
I’m on the downhill side of the trail now, enjoying the golden light through the trees. An overweight bulldog shar-pei mix with wrinkled skin ambles on the trail off leash toward me, another overweight small furry dog follows slowly with the owner. I stop and ask if she can put her dogs on leash. She puts the wrinkled bulldog on the leash and as I start to thank her, she says to me: “I shouldn’t have to do this if you could live without fear.” Now my simmering dog irritation is reaching the angry stage. “I’m not afraid of your dog”, I answer, I wish you would follow our community agreements. She walks on, I turn at the switch-back and see her unhook her dog again. I can’t contain my self and call out to her: “Yeah, make your own rules and don’t care about others on the trail!” Immediately I feel embarrassed for letting this issue get a hold of me. My happy equanimity is shot. I hike on wrestling with thoughts about people, rules and community-living on the trails.
A quarter mile later I realize I’m not seeing anything around me, I’m absorbed by the thoughts in my head. Then I remember what Thoreau said in his book Walking: I am alarmed when it happens that I have walked a mile into the woods bodily, without getting there in spirit. —………..— The thought of some work will run in my head and I am not where my body is—-I am out of my senses. In my walks I would fain return to my senses. What business do I have in the woods, if I am thinking of something out of the woods?” I look, smell and take some deep breaths to return to the woods.
I finish my hike, crossing the downtown area. When I come to the undeveloped land where the railroad tracks run, I take the short-cut home as I always do and cross the tracks where the sign to the North says, Private Property, no trespassing. I cross the tracks and break the rule. I’m no better than the dog owners.

 

Toward a better 2016

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We know all these things the Dalai Lama mentions in the text on the picture, but do we live better because of it? Can you make a commitment to change just one of these facts in your life in the next year?
The statement that jumps out for me is, “We have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor”. This year I finally got the poetry box up at my house, it took me a year and a half to manifest the thing. The idea for it came on my travels, but getting it done was a process of finding the post,finding the just right moment to put the post in the ground, and finding the friend who wanted to build the box to put on the post. It could all have been done faster. I could have hired someone to put in the post, I could have ordered a three hundred dollar poetry box online and have some person for hire put it up for me. That is not how I felt about the project. This was a project of sharing, using materials I have laying around, utilizing relationships in my community to build the box, this was a project to bring people together, to slow things down, allow someone to stop, read and ponder, to say hello and ask questions, to let neighbors participate and share their poems.
The idea I had is working: people stop and read, people bring their poems to share, people now think about what they can do at their house to make contact with the strangers that walk by. I took the window of my room to the edge of the street. I share what I read in my room, what I think about and what I love. I am communicating with the people in my neighborhood through my poetry box. People have to walk a few steps to receive it, healthy steps. Poems are without judgment but full of awareness. Poems don’t take much time to read, but linger inside you, and infuse the next moment in a person’s life.
What if all you readers, shared this blog with one or two other people and these people shared it with one or two others and so on? Wouldn’t we have a pyramid of power that could change our world? Will you take one line of the Dalai Lama’s text and change it in the next year? The world in 2016 will be better for it.