Lost In The Fog

“I just want to go for two weeks with no major changes in my life.” That’s what I told a friend recently as we sipped wine outside on my back deck. In the last few weeks, my business partnership split, my boyfriend broke up with me, my bank account went nearly dry, and I was sick in bed for almost an entire week, longer than I can ever remember being sick before. To say that life has been merely difficult would be … inane. Life has, in fact, sucked.

And I don’t see it markedly improving anytime soon.

So how have I dealt with the stress? Probably not well. I did start working out again, and I’ve meditated once or twice. But frankly there isn’t much that can be done right now to change things.

I’m left with making my way through it knowing that the end is not yet in sight, knowing that tomorrow when I wake up these issues will still be here and will likely stay here for some time.

When I was in college, I raised money for my tuition by trapping. Back then, raccoon pelts brought $35 and tuition at UT was only $8 an hour. So if I had a good run during Christmas break, I was generally able to cover my tuition and most of my book costs. In addition to trapping, I would spotlight for raccoons after dark. Most mamals eyes reflect light, so a bright enough light is shown on them, the eyes can be seen from a hundred yards or more away. Once you spot the eyes, you give chase, run the recoon up a tree, and then shoot it. I know, gruesome, right? But back then it didn't seem so.

One night the air was warmer than usual and damp, and while I was out walking with my light and rifle a heavy fog moved in. Before I knew it, I was engulfed in the thick, quickly moving cloud and completely lost my way. The ground was only visible a few feet ahead as I tried to make my way home, but before long I truly had no idea which direction I was headed.

A 21 year old, a few hundred yards for his home, probably has no reason to fear even in disorienting fog, but I was afraid. I couldn’t find my way. None of the paths, or rocks, or trees looked familiar. I was lost, and I had no idea how to get home.

So eventually I just stopped, sat down, and calmed myself as best I could. The house could not be far away. I had not been gone that long. I had walked up the hill away from the house, and was walking back down now. All I needed was a glimpse of something familiar, and until I saw it, there was nothing to do except sit and wait.

Fortunately, it did not take long. The wind rose, and the fog began to move and as the cloud blew passed it grew thinner and then I saw it, in the distance, a hundred yards away, the light on our barn. I set my bearings and off I went, and even though the thick fog rolled back in, I was able to focus on just the next step, again and again, until at last I made the barn and home.