Navigating Through Thick Fog
The weather app says rain on the mountain, and instantly, I feel the heavy weight of dread. Rain means there’s a good chance there will be fog on the road up the mountain. I had been looking forward to the weekend and my time in the forest. Now, I’m thinking of bagging the trip.
What’s the big deal about fog? I mean we’ve all driven in fog before, right? That’s what I thought until I experienced mountain fog. It’s a whole different beast. It’s not really like fog. It’s more like a solid white wall.
Visibility can get down to about 10 feet in front of your car. The only thing you can see is the center divider and the only way through the fog is to slow down and follow that yellow line. When it curves, you curve. It’s especially anxiety inducing, but even worse when your mind is constantly reminding you that the only thing between you and the valley is a 3 foot high guardrail.
The first time I drove through the white wall, I white-knuckled the steering wheel the whole time and after making it through, I was physically shaking. Since then, the thought of doing it again can put me into full on panic mode—a light headed, “I think I’m going to pass out” panic attack.
This time, I had a warning. The flashing highway sign, “Fog Conditions, Low Visibility Ahead” gave me a pretty good idea it would be bad.
At the base of the mountain, I paused and said a quick prayer. Spirits, please help me get to the top.
Creeping along at 15mph, I concentrated on the yellow line while repeating the mantra, “I am safe.” Then I began to notice that although it was slow going and frightening, I really was safe. I’d move forward and a bit more of the road was revealed to me in perfect time.
How many times have you felt paralyzed because you’re stuck in the metaphorical fog?
Me, more times than I can count.
Lately, it’s been tied to my purpose. I know down to the bone I’m supposed to care for this small slice of mountain land, we call Magic Tree Sanctuary. I have no doubt I’m supposed to invite people to come here to develop a connection to nature that will heal them, sustain them, transform them. The vision is clear. I can see it—a little piece of protected wild nature sharing it’s magic.
But sometimes, it feels hard. I don’t really know how it’s going to all come together. The vision may be clear but not the path to get there. How do I spread the word so people know it exists? What kind of programs, events, and retreats can I create to make it inviting enough for someone to step away from their busy life and come? Where is the money going to come from to build out the space to match the vision? Etc. Etc. Etc.
Sometimes, we can get to a point on our journey where we are stuck in confusion. We don’t have a clear path. We don’t know when to do what, how, what to focus on and what not to do. So we stay stuck because we think we can’t move forward unless we see a clear path.
The path is always there. Move slowly and lean into trust. Trust that all will be revealed and you will get to where you need to be in perfect time. You will be shown the way.
Forest Love,
Julie