We live the given life, not the planned.
~Wendell Berry
It’s not the summer we planned.
The summer we planned meant hiking our beloved logging road twice a week, side-by-side, step-by-strong step to the top where the endorphins—that come from working hard—kick in and lift our spirits. It meant lingering in a favorite spot on the way down with our Sleepy Monk coffee and Walker’s Shortbread, hiking a sacred trail that will hold whatever our hearts carry. It’s a hike that infuses us with energy, builds our endurance, sparks conversation, repairs relationships, connects us with our callings, and ignites our imaginations and creativity.
The summer we were given means very slow walks on our road, side-by-side, step-by-slow step where the only thing that kicks in is the fatigue that comes with the slow and hard earned progress on this necessary recovery road. It means sitting on the porch with our Sleepy Monk coffee, no Walker’s Shortbread, and recognizing that the trail we are to follow leads inward. The spaces where we are called to linger don’t offer the breathtaking views found out there, but the necessary and shadowy ones that can only be found in here. In contrast to the logging road where we go it together,, this inner journey feels like we have to goi it alone.
The summer we planned meant training for bigger hikes, completing important projects, and sleeping under the stars high on the flanks of Mt. Adams. It meant geology hikes to lead, gatherings to plan, and preparations to be made for a long awaited month in Scotland to visit family.
The summer we were given means preparing for months of cardiac rehab, not training for getting to the summit of some trail but simply getting back to ground zero. It means letting big projects give way to tiny ones, and sleeping under our roof, not together but separately until the need for a recliner to get the necessary restorative sleep is behind us. Gatherings are harder to come by, and rather than packing our bags for Scotland we are filing a claim with the travel insurance company to recoup our expenses.
The summer we planned was filled with adventure, connection, and purpose. The summer we were given feels filled with monotony, isolation, and aimlessness. It’s tempting to try to escape from the discomfort and challenge of the here and now. To turn away from the questions that stalk us rather than live into the answers that await us. To lose ourselves by doing rather that find more of ourselves by being. To bemoan what we’ve lost by not having the summer we planned rather than consider all there is to gain from the summer that we have.
The summer we’ve been given is the one when a heart surgeon cut a chest open, stopped a heart from beating, mended what was broken, restarted a still heart, and put it all back together again. Not to be the heart that it was, but to be the heart that it could be. One that works better, beats stronger, feels more deeply, loves more strongly, and can support the life that we are here to live. As we walk side-by-side, and step-by-intentional step through the summer we’ve been given, we are on solo journeys that aren’t meant to be taken alone.
We couldn’t have planned it better if we tried.
