Photo credit Greg Raines
It was a Sunday afternoon in the middle of July but the sun was bright, my perfect kind of winter day.
We stood at the bottom of the ranges; pug Brixton in one hand, husband’s hand in the other.
We started to walk and climb a little, every now and then pushing bushes out of our path.
At the time I was having a really hard time at work, so it’s likely he was listening to me ferret on about what a well-educated, highly-regarded, insecure tragedy my life was.
Distracted by what I’m confident was another enthralling conversation for him for the 49th time, we realised there was a little less path and a lot more bush going on, until there was no path at all.
Running ahead, I pushed through bushes and climbed cliff faces (or something to that dramatic effect).
Every so often my bellow of fear that Brixton had fallen off a cliff ahead somewhere echoed through the trees.
Losing my confidence, seeing some vague sign of life up ahead, fastening on my brave again.
Climbing, running, sweating.
Until, as if it appeared out of nowhere, we made it back to the well-worn path.
Sometimes along the way we get a little unsure of ourselves, a little lost, often for completely irrational meanderings we’ve convinced ourselves of.
And insecurity is exhausting.
It cages us, the good with the bad.
We can become so fragile, so focussed on our internal world, that we forget to focus on what is ahead.
Obsessed with who we are not, not who we are.
Directed by why we can’t, not why we can.
Focussed on what we are, not what we could be.
Somewhere along 2016, you may have become a little unsure of yourself and a little lost.
If you’re a husband/wife/daughter/son/friend of this person, keep listening to the same conversation 7x7x7x7 times if you have to. Don’t let them run in the dark alone. They’ll thank you later.
If you are this person, it’s time to fasten on your brave, and run where there are no paths.
The well-worn path will be waiting for you. I promise.
Dedicated to my husband Lance and Step-Mum, Tisha. Thank you for not letting me run in the dark alone.