Reinventing "That Day"

On Sunday I climbed to a mountaintop (Mt. Tom, NH – 4,051 feet). My objective was to get as far away as possible from TV/radio/Internet/newspaper––and all the endless rehashing of 10 years ago. I understand it’s important to reflect, but what about today? Yes, I know what happened then, but what about now?

           

I didn’t think about “9/11” on my walk. Instead, I had tremendous clarity/breakthrough on a creative project. I also mused about some disagreements I’ve been having in my life and wondered what I’ve been doing to attract those unfortunate situations.

Mostly, I thought about stopping and turning back. “It’s too hard, I’m going too slow, I’ve gone the wrong way off trail, what if I get hurt, am I safe, I’ll never be found if something happens to me.” (Roll down a ravine, sprain my ankle, have a dead tree fall on me, pinning me.)

Now truthfully, I did go the wrong way and did walk off trail once. But as soon as I asked for directions from a couple of Unfriendlies, I was back on track and determined to push on.

But man, the mind chatter did not stop, not once. Not even crossing some fun, mildly challenging streams, or passing by the rushing-forth power of cascades. It was only when I got to the top did my mind shut up. And that’s because my mouth got talking.

I met a group of hikers who had carried up a 12-foot flagpole, lashed it to a dead tree stump and flew the Stars and Stripes. It was their annual way of commemorating the events of 10 years ago and I thought “Good for them.”

So we sat, we chatted, we ate our granola bars, drank from our Nalgenes, discussed the 360º view of the mountain range––all under a fluttering flag.

I sought to forget “That Day” and ended up creating a lovely moment of remembrance with strangers in a perfectly peaceful setting.