I've been longing to do this since I came to New York! Before I moved here, I lived in a rural area that abounded in natural beauty, and as I drove to and fro, I caught glimpses of scenery through my windshield — of shrimp boats resting in glassy bayous, their nets catching the falling sunlight, or of goldenrod and saw palmettos crowding around pools and arching underneath cypress trees. Despite the beauty of the scenery, however, I felt disconnected from nature because it was difficult to find places where I could hike, swim, or explore on my own. When I moved to New York, I was excited at the possibility of taking the commuter rail to various trailheads and parks outside the city.
There was a rumor about that a couple of friends would be interested in doing just that on Saturday. As the day approached, I began to feel a familiar sense of anxiety that no plans had been made. Would the rumor remain a rumor? Would we hold off on making the plans until after we had already slept in on Saturday morning, thus rendering our trip an impossibility? As I finished my work on Thursday, I made a mental note to address this lapse AS SOON AS I returned home. Then I remembered my epiphany from
Day 5: "My compulsion to be busy adds tension to my life and my relationships," and I decided to take that prescribed chill pill, and trust that the trip would happen.
As it happened, the trip didn't quite happen. A couple of friends decided that the hike would make it difficult for them to get to a family party later in the evening, and my best friend and I, worn out by the karaoke marathon of the previous night, had decided to leave the planning for the morning. When we woke up on Saturday, she was worried about her work schedule and needed to check her email and make plans for the coming week. I sat down to research commuter rail day trips, discovered how long the trips would be, and calculated how much time we would need to pack lunches, get dressed, and copy down directions and maps. We were a bit of a cyclone of anxiety and nail-biting.
Finally, as if an angel had trumpeted the idea into my ear directly from heaven, I remembered a park in the Bronx, an easy subway ride away, that was bigger and more wild than Central Park, which I had not yet explored. Suddenly buoyed by this discovery, we finished our breakfast and chores; we picked out scarves and sweaters with relish; filled up our travel mugs and set off for Bronx.
What a beautiful, delightful, peaceful hike we had! We discovered rose-red
mitten leaves fallen on the trail; paused to look at a pond through the trees; saw the sunlight cascade over a bank of smart weed, and posed for a bajillion pictures in our stylish autumn scarves. We walked clear across the park and came out dangerously close to the neighborhood where I'd had the hurling coaching course the week before, so I lured my friend to the Irish grocery store where we stocked up on sweets, crisps, and fresh-baked bread.
HOW I LEFT MY COMFORT ZONE:
I had been really looking forward to this hike, so I struggled not to feel anxious about its happening. It would have been easy to let that anxiety cascade into grumpiness and resentment (which, I won't lie, I've done before). And in a lot of ways, this required being considerate. Several of my friends needed to take the time to be with their families instead of going on the hike. And since my friend was feeling worried about getting organized for her upcoming work week, I wanted to find a way to have an adventure that help her to feel refreshed and ready for the week, not a lengthy trip that would take away from her ability to do that. It's not so much that I went outside my comfort zone, but that I had to go outside my own desires and plans in order to invite and honor others.
WHAT I LEARNED:
Sometimes you've got to plan ahead. My sort-of anxiety about making plans has been a major theme for me this year, and caused conflict in my relationship. I've noticed that I tend to get nervous when the weekend approaches and I haven't done sufficient research on all of the possibilities. I suppose I also consider my expensive New York rent to include a premium for the opportunities that living in New York allows. I'm not just paying for a place to lay my head and nearly-unlimited hot water, but also for access to museums, parks, Malaysian restaurants, and drum circles in Union Square. I feel a compulsion to get my money's worth by going for walks, trying out new food trucks, and generally staying busy.
Last week I learned that I need to relax and need to enjoy down time. I decided that I could put that lesson into action by not hurrying into plans for the hike. However, I learned this weekend that, sometimes, things don't get done if no one plans ahead. I enjoy adventure; I enjoy researching possibilities, figuring out the best route, and exploring every option. Planning ahead can be a gift; it can be the impetus that gets the group of friends together and lays the foundation for a good time. But a good time starts with an invitation, and the best invitation is one of joy, not one of anxiety. I need to acknowledge my gift for making plans and use it in a way that serves my relationships instead of taking away from them.
