Most people who know me know that hiking is one of my absolutely favourite things to do.
When I’m in mountains I spend a lot of time thinking about climate change (well, I spend a lot of time thinking about climate change even when I’m not in mountains, but it’s more present and real when I’m hiking).
There’s the obvious: locals lamenting the loss of glaciers and snow pack; the worry of nearby towns, villages and sometimes cities that rely on the natural run-off water that may not exist in even a few years; even my own guilt around contributing to climate change from the transport I had to take to reach the mountains wherever they are. And there’s a heightened consciousness around the weight, space and purpose of my possessions: if there is anything that makes me super aware of how little I actually need, it’s having to carry all of my belongings on my back in difficult terrain for 8 hours.
Mountain hiking is itself an exercise of mindfulness: focusing on one step and then the next and nothing else; feeling every physical experience in my body, in my feet, the weight on my back; feeling the tiredness in my body, and the immediate spike in my energy by eating a few nuts or taking a gulp of water; and experiencing the many subtle changes in vegetation, view, scent, temperature, humidity, and the elements. There’s something really freeing about leaving my very active mind aside for a few days and just being back in my body, be super aware of all of my senses, and tapping into my physicality, my resilience, and my grit.
And at some point along my journey, there’s the inevitable discouragement: Gosh this is really hard! Did I really choose to do this for fun? I should have booked a spa vacation instead. How much longer is this hike anyway?
I see many lessons in this to apply to cause-based leadership. It is really easy to be defeated by the metaphorical mountain we have to climb that is climate change, social and systemic justice and inclusion, anti-racism, that we forget that to just stay grounded and focus on the what’s the next step we need to take. We get distracted by emails and meetings and requests. We feel overwhelmed – because these are big issues we’re working on – but we can only move forward one step at a time. Sometimes we feel like we’re barely moving forward at all. Or that it isn’t worth it to stay on this path. And the truth is, there isn’t really an end to the work we’re doing. That can feel pretty frustrating sometimes.
But I don’t hike to get to the end (although I am certainly happy when I do get there). But that’s not why I hike or else I would simply drive to the end. I’m there for the experience, for the journey, for the views along the way, for the sense that I lived and experienced something amazing, something beautiful, that I was part of something bigger than myself. And I had a purpose that was bigger than just a regular day of emails or dishes or going to the supermarket. For me, the parallel is that a cause-based life is more fulfilling than the alternative. Remember, the path may be difficult, but the result we’re striving for is worth every step.
So I keep walking one step and then the other.
How will you harness the power of nature for change?
