The wind whips around the mountain, threatening to take me with it. I dig my shoes into the rocks, toes scrunching with the impact, my hair is flying and my hat is flapping. At 6508 feet in the air, there's not much else I can do.The rest of the group is nowhere to be seen.
I spot a stretch of sun around the bend, and trudge towards it.
At the end of the road, I'm greeted by my father's friend Victor. Not only has he outpaced me, but he has also outpaced our entire group. We laugh about his progress, and with time, our jokes turn to stories.
I marvel at the vastness of the mountains and Victor reminisces about his childhood in Taiwan, when "earning the right to be a boy scout meant lugging full size tents across the island." It seems that he is one of the few people I've encountered who truly cherish a time before readily available cars and internet. He talks about this struggle the way that only someone who is grown can- fondly. For that, I envy him. Truthfully, disconnecting is a luxury. As a business student (and furthermore, as a millennial), it's hard to imagine a moment absent of electronics.
And, if I did disconnect, would anyone notice? My inbox says yes, but my ego responds with a resounding "no." In the past month, I'd witnessed more overexertion and indecision than ever before. Between work, school, and social obligations, connectivity felt like an obligation rather than a luxury. But today, my phone is on airplane mode, and I've sufficiently survived my third day without internet.
Maybe the key is avoidance. I wonder whether it's better to forget or to accept, finally settling on this- forgetting is not synonymous with resolving.
I'm happier than I've been in days. Unfortunately, the wind dilutes my laugh and it comes out sounding like something between a cry and a shout. He asks me about this, and I simply respond, "Let's keep going."
At one point I might have considered avoidance the key to maintaining my sanity. It seemed better to avoid rather than to accept. But the truth is, forgetting is not synonymous with resolving. Old hurts arise when new ones subside.
However, at 6508 feet in the air, there's no room for distraction. In this sense, hiking is running towards the problem rather than away from it. It forces an emphasis on the essential, and a subsequent ability to comprehend. I hiked 6508 feet alone to escape reality, but came out with a companion and an answer.
