OMD Travelogue | Day 395 – Mallory Paige

Camp packed up, I stare across the water.

This campsite isn’t remote, but considering no one else is tent camping it feels like the grassy expanse is all ours. Settled on a ledge overlooking the reservoir, I watch the morning sun climb higher in the sky.

Checking the map, I think about how far we need to go today. Scold myself for not getting an earlier start. Haul gear to the bike as Baylor wanders towards the path cutting to the water’s edge. He stands, looks back at me. It’s a beautiful day. Wanna go for a swim?

I shake my head, We don’t have time bud. We really need to get going.

He looks at the water. Turns back to me. Slowly makes his way to the bike.

I sigh. Scratch his head. You’re right, Bay. What’s the point of any of it if we don’t take time to enjoy it?

Scrambling down the steep bank, we run to the rocky shoreline. Hunt the water’s edge for a big stick. Wobble and weave across the uneven terrain. Splash and frolick in the cool waters.

There’s an appeal to being busy. An intoxication to being consumed by the quest for more and more. Doing more, getting more, being more. In the right balance, it’s entirely necesary and purposeful. Sometimes we need to focus obsessively, put our head down and power through. It’s how we accomplish great things.

But the busy shouldn’t be at the expense of the important. The doing shouldn’t overwhelm the enjoying.

Stick in hand, I wind my arm back. Release the smooth wood from my hand and watch it sail over glassy water. Looking at Baylor, I burst out laughing. He doesn’t make a move. Looks at the stick, back at me. That’s entirely too far from shore. Try again. I head off to search for another stick. He flops over to roll about happily in the sand awaiting my return.

Working my way across the big rocks, my left foot slips on a particularly smooth rock. Sends me tumbling forwards. Readjusting quickly I jump to my right foot. Flail about momentarily before catching my balance. Breathing heavily from the near treacherous fall, I hear a noise to my left. Look over. Giggle. Shrug. Baylor stands perched on a rock. Stares at me with an amused grin. Can’t leave you alone for a second.

Back on solid ground I can’t help but think life is a lot like walking across a precarious stack of rocks. Most of the time it’s a smooth transition from one to the next. But every now and then, the ground will shift right out from you. Send you tumbling unexpectedly. Potentially leave you bruised and broken. Some might think it’s safer to stay put in one place. To avoid the potentially dangerous rocks all together. But by doing that we miss the payoff. The opportunities to pivot and come out on top. The epic views and unforgettable people. The soul-filling joy and life-enhancing lessons.

Fresh stick in hand. I goad Baylor. Get him amped up. Toss it gently with in wading distance. Watch as he excitedly leaps after it.

There’s a lot I don’t have figured out in life, but I hope I’m always willing to scramble across the rocks. I don’t want to miss out on the experience for fear of a tumble, to lose sight of what’s truly important.

I don’t want to get to the end of life only to realize I survived, but forgot to really live.

395 days down. Many to come.