After about three hours climbing Snowdon along the Pyg Track, the coffee and rest at the top were greatly appreciated. I decided to head back down the Miners’ Track but felt that the challenging walk was made even more difficult by the burden of my heavy backpack. Like many things in our lives, it weighed heavily on my shoulders. More than once I wished I’d left it at home as I clambered down the rocks and steep path.
Yet, as there are two sides to every coin, there were aspects of my burden that I needed. It carried my camera, water for me and the dogs, snacks, and extra clothing. I thought about the amazing photographs I had taken, how much I needed that warm fleece in the bitter cold on the top. No, I would not choose to be without them.
As I plodded down the mountain, the two dogs on their leads in case they ran over a steep edge, I could feel the effects of a tough day on my body and limbs, and it restricted my joints and my gait.
My backpack weighed heavily and my knees and ankles were suffering from the concussive impact of each deliberately placed footstep. My mind turned inwards, focusing on my burdens and pain. Briefly, I would be distracted by the sun catching a distant mountaintop or a small hardy plant and I would get my camera out, but it wouldn’t be long before I was back in the thoughts of my own misery and wishing I wasn’t so far from the car.
Then, my attention was captured by a noise from behind. There was a sound of laughter and merriment from a group of walkers behind me. Though we were walking the same path there was a vast difference in our mood and manner.
They carried loads which were much heavier than mine and with much greater ease: big backpacks with camping gear and supplies.
Ahead of them ran two dogs agilely jumping down the rocks. As the walkers passed me they talked and laughed as they traversed the trail like mountain goats, leaping from stone to stone. I watched their light, fast movements. They were walkers who were familiar with the path and obviously with carrying heavy loads, so surely there's was an example to follow. I adopted them as my model, let the dogs off their leads and started to replicate their gait. ‘Spring rather than plod. Move lightly’ became my mantra. And the results were rapid. The pains in my knees and ankles began to ease.
Then I let fear resume its grip. What if I went over on my ankle? What if I stepped on a loose rock and fell? What if… In fear, I again slowed my pace, deliberately watching each footfall. As I did so, I felt the full weight of my burden, and the concussion of each firmly planted step brought the pain back into my joints. My dogs, meanwhile, agilely traversed the path like the dogs ahead now that they were free.
The laughter of the walkers ahead drifted up from below. “Surely”, I thought, “My eyes are capable of seeing the path ahead. My legs have supported me well through life so far and know how to move. I just need to feel confident in the abilities I already have. Somehow, reminding myself at a conscious level what I already knew at a deeper level freed my body to move comfortably and lightly. Permitting myself to be in touch with long-held capabilities allowed my feet to travel easier. As I traversed the stumbling blocks of my mind, I moved over the ground with great ease, and the weight of my bag wasn’t so heavy and burdensome. Every now and then I stopped, a little worried again. If I started to worry about falling, I felt myself become tense, and I wasn’t able to move freely. When I reminded myself that what I wanted was well within my capabilities, I felt the worry fall away and my gait became freer.
All I needed was to trust my inner mind to do what it was already capable of doing.
When the burden of life becomes heavier, when it starts crushing our shoulders with all its might, it is time to be stronger! Mehmet Murat Ildan.