Fear

On these long stretches between towns I start off my days adventurous and excited for what comes next. But its towards the end of the day that my thoughts turn dark, where I feel like an inept intruder upon an unforgiving landscape. Looking for a place to pitch my tent, away from prying eyes; away from observance or danger, its then that the fear takes root in me and takes on a life of its own. It's not the darkness or the distance, but a constant nagging of the what-ifs or what-thens. Even before the walk, there has always been this fear, of not succeeding, of not becoming what I feel I was meant to become. And its a fear that has often crippled me into static stillness. Which is a main reason I chose to walk across America. There are parts if this journey that are very exciting and adventuresome. But there is also a dangerous and scary side to this walk, that threatens to paralyze me into nervous worry. Especially as the night comes and I need to find a place to sleep. Last night was one if those nights, it was a frenzy of worry and paranoia. I setup my tent and lay down, not unrolling my sleeping bag until an hour had passed, which in my mind marked a timeframe for my escape into the woods to go unnoticed. The night had come and I unrolled my bag and slept. I awoke at 6am to the cars going by and stepped out if my tent to a quiet stillness. It was really quiet beautiful. The pine needles carpeting the ground muffled the sounds of the highway and the faint morning light could be seen through the trees. It was still and peaceful, and thinking about it, was likely that way before I went to sleep. And so the only difference was my perception. And that my fear the previous night drove the beauty away. I started this walk knowing that it was what I needed. That I needed to break out of a shell of static stillness and paralyzed thought. I guess I just need to have faith that things will be okay, otherwise it will be as if I never left, stuck in place.