Right?! There’s something so validating about seeing research catch up to what our bodies and spirits have been whispering all along. It’s like science finally packed its hiking boots and decided to come with us.
Thank you for sharing this! And I love your storytelling skills. The way you crafted this was excellent. Drew me in and taught me something!
I walked across the Capilano Suspension Bridge on a recent visit to Vancouver. It was amazing but so scary. I am afraid of heights and walking on a shaky bridge that high up is terrifying. But exhilarating!
I needed to do it- especially as I was in the midst of starting my own business.
Thank you so much—what a generous comment! And wow, the Capilano Suspension Bridge is no joke. Isn’t it wild how doing something brave with our bodies can unlock courage in the rest of our lives too? Sounds like that bridge was a perfect metaphor for launching your business—scary, high up, and totally worth it. Cheering you on as you cross into this next chapter! 🙌
I've been part of a group called Sole Sisters for many years. Have hiked all over California and then some and I find everything you say in this post to be true. When we had a tragic death in our family I wrote a book Out of Time: For Those Who Grieve and Wonder and it recounts how being out in the wild was a balm for my soul. I enjoy your posts so much Jill!
Thank you so much for sharing this—what a beautiful example of how nature meets us in our grief and helps carry what feels uncarryable. I love the name Sole Sisters (so good!) and it sounds like you've lived through—and written through—some powerful chapters. I’m honored that my words resonated with you. I’ll definitely check out Out of Time. Grateful to have you here on the trail with us 💛
I love this essay Jill! I really hate log crossings- I could so resonate with your thoughts when you are halfway across the log and can’t really change your mind, so just keep going!
Adrienne! I love seeing your name pop up here—and YES to the log crossings of life (literal and metaphorical). That moment of “welp, here we go…” is so real. Glad it resonated—and now I’m picturing us both inching across a log, muttering pep talks under our breath.
Claudia, that means the world to hear. Isn’t it wild how the right words—or trail, or friend—sometimes show up just when we need them? I’m so glad this one found you. Sending encouragement right back your way.
Several years ago near the end of a 20-kilometer hike, the sky started to turn dark gray, then the rain fell and lightning was all around us. Our daughter was seven at the time and terrified by intensity of the storm. For lack of cover, we hid in a bunch of hazel bushes and squatted there for an hour while the thunder rolled and lightning was tossed like fireworks to the ground. It wasn't in the forecast, but there we were... Once we were thoroughly soaked we moved on at a quick pace, trying not to fall in the streaming ruts of the road. The rain stopped when we reached home.
The more time you spend in nature, the more things that are going to happen to you, and yes, some of them will be scary. Mostly pleasant, but not all, like a herd of shepherd dogs barking/chasing you down. After hiking all alone in the Pacific Northwest on several occasions, I can honestly say that hiking in Romania is much more challenging for the psyche. But oh, there are campfire stories to tell!
Nature definitely does rewire your brain for courage.
What an unforgettable memory—equal parts terrifying and epic. I could feel that storm reading your words… and your daughter’s fear, too (I hope she’s got bragging rights now!). You’re so right: the more time we spend in nature, the more it stretches us—in ways we never expected. Sometimes into awe, sometimes into adrenaline. But always into a better version of ourselves. And yes, those Romanian trails sound like they come with serious campfire story potential 🔥💪
Thank you so much—that means the world to me. It’s always incredible to hear when something I’ve written puts words to what someone else has been feeling. Grateful to be walking this trail (literal and metaphorical) alongside readers like you.
Thank you! And yes—fellow northerner solidarity! 💪❄️ There’s something about those first signs of spring after a long, frozen stretch that feels downright miraculous. Like the whole world is exhaling. Glad this resonated with you
Well done Jill. For your hike, your personal growth and your sharing. It was a very needed reminder that I needed, and a shot of courage to push past the what ifs and anxieties of my mind. If I’m uncomfortable, I’m usually growing. I’m going for a walk about today thanks to you xo
Thank you so much, Loral—that means a lot. I love what you said: “If I’m uncomfortable, I’m usually growing.” Yes. That’s the trail talking right there. I’m so honored this gave you that little nudge to lace up and walk it out. Wishing you a soul-clearing, courage-boosting wander today.
I love how the science supports what my soul knows!
Right?! There’s something so validating about seeing research catch up to what our bodies and spirits have been whispering all along. It’s like science finally packed its hiking boots and decided to come with us.
Thank you for sharing this! And I love your storytelling skills. The way you crafted this was excellent. Drew me in and taught me something!
I walked across the Capilano Suspension Bridge on a recent visit to Vancouver. It was amazing but so scary. I am afraid of heights and walking on a shaky bridge that high up is terrifying. But exhilarating!
I needed to do it- especially as I was in the midst of starting my own business.
Thank you so much—what a generous comment! And wow, the Capilano Suspension Bridge is no joke. Isn’t it wild how doing something brave with our bodies can unlock courage in the rest of our lives too? Sounds like that bridge was a perfect metaphor for launching your business—scary, high up, and totally worth it. Cheering you on as you cross into this next chapter! 🙌
I've been part of a group called Sole Sisters for many years. Have hiked all over California and then some and I find everything you say in this post to be true. When we had a tragic death in our family I wrote a book Out of Time: For Those Who Grieve and Wonder and it recounts how being out in the wild was a balm for my soul. I enjoy your posts so much Jill!
Thank you so much for sharing this—what a beautiful example of how nature meets us in our grief and helps carry what feels uncarryable. I love the name Sole Sisters (so good!) and it sounds like you've lived through—and written through—some powerful chapters. I’m honored that my words resonated with you. I’ll definitely check out Out of Time. Grateful to have you here on the trail with us 💛
I love this essay Jill! I really hate log crossings- I could so resonate with your thoughts when you are halfway across the log and can’t really change your mind, so just keep going!
Adrienne! I love seeing your name pop up here—and YES to the log crossings of life (literal and metaphorical). That moment of “welp, here we go…” is so real. Glad it resonated—and now I’m picturing us both inching across a log, muttering pep talks under our breath.
Thank you, Jill, I just needed to hear this today. Very encouraging! Your post found me at exactly the right moment. ✨️
Claudia, that means the world to hear. Isn’t it wild how the right words—or trail, or friend—sometimes show up just when we need them? I’m so glad this one found you. Sending encouragement right back your way.
Thank you, Jill!! 💗
Several years ago near the end of a 20-kilometer hike, the sky started to turn dark gray, then the rain fell and lightning was all around us. Our daughter was seven at the time and terrified by intensity of the storm. For lack of cover, we hid in a bunch of hazel bushes and squatted there for an hour while the thunder rolled and lightning was tossed like fireworks to the ground. It wasn't in the forecast, but there we were... Once we were thoroughly soaked we moved on at a quick pace, trying not to fall in the streaming ruts of the road. The rain stopped when we reached home.
The more time you spend in nature, the more things that are going to happen to you, and yes, some of them will be scary. Mostly pleasant, but not all, like a herd of shepherd dogs barking/chasing you down. After hiking all alone in the Pacific Northwest on several occasions, I can honestly say that hiking in Romania is much more challenging for the psyche. But oh, there are campfire stories to tell!
Nature definitely does rewire your brain for courage.
What an unforgettable memory—equal parts terrifying and epic. I could feel that storm reading your words… and your daughter’s fear, too (I hope she’s got bragging rights now!). You’re so right: the more time we spend in nature, the more it stretches us—in ways we never expected. Sometimes into awe, sometimes into adrenaline. But always into a better version of ourselves. And yes, those Romanian trails sound like they come with serious campfire story potential 🔥💪
This is beautiful and inspiring. Thanks for sharing 🌲
Thanks Amy, I really appreciate that.
Excellent! You've expressed the song of my heart so well. Important message; great writing. Thanks.
Thank you so much—that means the world to me. It’s always incredible to hear when something I’ve written puts words to what someone else has been feeling. Grateful to be walking this trail (literal and metaphorical) alongside readers like you.
Whenever I finish a tough hike, I feel so much stronger. I did it. I made it. I survived.
Sort of the close cousin of “Type 2 Fun,” eh?
A lovely read. Thank you for sharing. As a Minnesotan, I feel a shared passion for the coming of spring after a long winter.
Thank you! And yes—fellow northerner solidarity! 💪❄️ There’s something about those first signs of spring after a long, frozen stretch that feels downright miraculous. Like the whole world is exhaling. Glad this resonated with you
Well done Jill. For your hike, your personal growth and your sharing. It was a very needed reminder that I needed, and a shot of courage to push past the what ifs and anxieties of my mind. If I’m uncomfortable, I’m usually growing. I’m going for a walk about today thanks to you xo
Thank you so much, Loral—that means a lot. I love what you said: “If I’m uncomfortable, I’m usually growing.” Yes. That’s the trail talking right there. I’m so honored this gave you that little nudge to lace up and walk it out. Wishing you a soul-clearing, courage-boosting wander today.