You don’t wake up at 2am on a Saturday morning after a rough workweek to drive 4.5 hours “for fun”. You don’t pop caffeine pills like it’s candy because if you don’t, you know you won’t survive the impending 15-something mile hike “for fun”.

You do it for a reason.

My reason this weekend was to recalibrate.

Let me provide some context: This past workweek was mentally taxing – but really… what else is new? I found myself constantly drowning in emotions and at times, they felt insurmountable. But of course, emotions, like everything in life – like the very workload on my plate – are not. Everything eventually works itself out, though it’s impossible to reconcile in the moment.

I will admit: one of my biggest faults (among the illustrious laundry list) is complaining too much. At work, I am but the constant culprit of the “bitchfest”.

And I understand that one of the symptoms of complaining is a lack of gratitude for what I DO have. In the grand scheme of things, I have a kick ass job at a kick ass company. I know this, and therefore I must change.

Peeling myself off the bed at 2am Saturday morning was that call-to-action.

It’s a wake up call (figuratively and literally) that I prescribe for myself ever so often. Call me Dr. Mendi. Now, it is no secret that I love traveling alone. Those reasons I’ve explained before.

But as an addendum, people ask: Why do you hike alone? Isn’t it dangerous? Isn’t it boring?

Second and third questions: No, it is not dangerous if you’re not dumb (full disclosure: I can be). No, it is not boring because I can guarantee every one of your senses feels when hiking.

First question: I hike alone simply to reset my mind and body.

Going to work and hiking are similar activities: there’s a goal you’re trying to achieve, and you kind of have to trudge through some sort of shit to get there.

The way I think of it is: when you’re in the office, every complaint given, is a complaint received. You pitch one, somebody catches it. That’s the whole point and satisfaction of bitching about something. Someone is always there to respond to it, empathize with it, fuel. your. fire.

Conversely, when you’re completely alone on a 15-mile hike, there is LITERALLY no one to bitch to. Not even if you wanted to. Not when your thighs are burning from constant incline, not when a mosquito decides to kamikaze straight into your ear, not when you trip on a rock and mutter “fucking bitch” under your breath.

The moment you realize no one is there to receive your constant bitching…. you kinda just stop. Poof – just like that, no more complaining. You make a mental pact with yourself that you need to work through the current situation/hurdle in one way or another, so you just end up doing it.

…. I seek to bring this mentality back to the workplace.

Train my complaint-tolerance to meet the level of when I’m hiking solo. After all, why undercut the ultimate achievement by complaining about the process? Stop bitching and just fucking do the thing.

To carry that same gratitude for the hiking poles that saved me time and time again from eating shit on those jagged rocks. Thank you, dearest coworkers, for saving me from eating shit on projects and constantly talking me off the emotional “I can’t do this” ledge.

All this to say: nice to get that periodic recalibration and a little fresh air. Yosemite did me wonders.*

(* I say this now, but actual results may vary.)

Solitary refinement, I call it. Plus, the view ain’t bad.

With love,

Mendi

(Typed this out on my phone, excuse grammatical and spelling errors.)

24 Jun This entry was published on June 24, 2018 at 7:00 am. It’s filed under California, reflection, Travel Sprint and tagged california, clouds rest, hiking, solo travel, Yosemite. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.