July 25 2023, Bald Mountain Brook Lean-to to US Route 201; ME Route 4 to Little Swift River Pond:
As I was walking on the trail, I prayed to the Holy Spirit to give me strength and to have the faith and understanding for the way my experiences unfolded. If I were to run into him again, I prayed to have discernment and courage not to fall back into the same pattern of unworthiness. And lastly, I prayed for true sight, to be able see Voodoo for who he really was—a pure, innocent, child of God.
I was thinking today about how Voodoo wasn’t really here like that and how he was coming up in my perception bearing gifts. Behind the surface of his apparent body, he was laughing, as was I. Both of us holy innocent, in a play of pretend. Before the making of this world, I had asked him to apparently say and do these things to and for me to help show me that none of it was real. And for two, to remind me of what it meant to be unconditionally and wholly loving despite when someone appeared to be directing anger towards me. I was learning to understand that it wasn’t about me nor did it have anything to do with me. It wasn’t personal.
I finished up the section I had skipped and hitched a ride to the Sterling Inn. It felt so wholesome to be in the back of a pickup truck alone. Hitching alone. It really did feel like a totally different experience to me. I tuned into the sound of the cars passing by and the wind in my hair and the way the car drove so smoothly upon the pavement. I caught myself smiling and even engaging with the driver and his wife when they dropped me off.
The Sterling Inn was the place where Voodoo and I had resided in when it was pouring rain. I just wanted to stop by to take a breather and charge my stuff, maybe even have a cup of coffee. I thought it would feel intense coming back to a place where we shared space, but it was a lot easier than I thought. About a week had went by since then and I noticed standing in the same spot where we once were together, I now felt more calm and grounded in comparison to the anxiety.
From there, I hitched down to Rangeley to finish up another section. First person that stopped to give me a ride informed me that I was hitching in the wrong direction. Take two. Second person that stopped and picked me up was a young girl in her early thirties. We shared conversation about our latest life stories. I always found it fun how most women I met enjoyed girl talk. I was a sucker for it.
We spoke about energies, what it was like for her to live in her car and how she was managing to communicate her needs to the man she was currently romantic with. She said she had a hard time connecting with people in Maine ever since she moved up there in May. Most everyone she met, their interests had to do with partying, even if it was as simple as taking a boat out to go fishing or camping with friends on the weekend. She longed for more depth and stability and felt inspired to look for a new community while also moving towards sobriety.
“Talking to you is the first time I have ever gotten this deep with anyone since I moved out here,” she said, “for once I don’t feel so crazy for the vision I have.”
After she dropped me off, I immediately got picked up by an older couple who, upon getting in their car, rolled down the window and said, “You’ve been hiking, I’m sure you understand.”
They dropped me off at a restaurant they thought I would like and as I was about to walk in, a group of older folk stopped me in order to talk to them. They really liked my energy and wanted to know every detail of my traveling experience. I felt I was slowly finding my way again. I could feel the spark in my eyes. I could feel my Spirit perk up with joy. The feeling of connecting with ‘strangers’ felt more wholesome than sex. I prayed I would remember that when I was feeling down and warped in the sense of addiction.
When I sat down at the bar, I experienced a deep euphoria for several seconds. The hair on my body stood up and I felt wrapped in a warm fuzzy feeling of love. I closed my eyes and sank into that feeling. The only other time I had experienced such intensity of bliss was when I was very high on marijuana back in my teen years, sunbathing on the roof of my Prius, parked in the middle of a public forest preserve.
I chatted with a couple of guys that were sitting next to me at the bar. I asked if they were married, to which they both were, for almost two decades now! They were so young, I couldn’t even believe it at first. I asked them about their secrets to a healthy marriage and they both said consistent, honest communication and having the same core values.
“Also,” one of them said, “people make vows and promises to be together forever, and it’s all romantic and such, but people do change and you can’t control them, so that’s usually when people part ways and grow apart.”
The other guy advised not to bring past relationship trauma into a new relationship because I would get stuck in the same patterns and never actually heal by projecting my past onto the new person I was with. That was exactly what me and the girl who gave me a ride were talking about, too! I thanked Spirit for the synchronicity. I could see how that was another lesson for me to work through because I saw how I was often very tempted to bring the pain from a past relationship into a new one.
I had thoughts that still hooked me that said, “All men are the same. Just you wait and see.”
I used to easily accept those thought patterns in the past as truth, but now I had a lot more confidence and awareness coming to the conclusion that it was just a load of shit. Whenever I started to believe in those thoughts, I would gently remind myself to let go of the grip and allow relaxation for myself.
After I ate, I hitched to the Hiker Hut hostel before I got back on trail. There was no one to be found—no hikers, no employees. What caught my eye was a rock that had a quote painted on it.
It read, “Events happen, deeds are done, but there is no individual doer thereof.”
It was such a pleasant reminder for my mind, to remember that there truly was no out there “doing” anything to me, for that statement in itself was an impossibility.
I walked back to the trail and hiked another six miles and stealth camped atop a hill. There, I watched as the mosquitos attempted to penetrate their way into my tent. As it grew dark, I listened to the croaking of the frogs as they put me to sleep.
As I was walking on the trail, I prayed to the Holy Spirit to give me strength and to have the faith and understanding for the way my experiences unfolded. If I were to run into him again, I prayed to have discernment and courage not to fall back into the same pattern of unworthiness. And lastly, I prayed for true sight, to be able see Voodoo for who he really was—a pure, innocent, child of God.
I was thinking today about how Voodoo wasn’t really here like that and how he was coming up in my perception bearing gifts. Behind the surface of his apparent body, he was laughing, as was I. Both of us holy innocent, in a play of pretend. Before the making of this world, I had asked him to apparently say and do these things to and for me to help show me that none of it was real. And for two, to remind me of what it meant to be unconditionally and wholly loving despite when someone appeared to be directing anger towards me. I was learning to understand that it wasn’t about me nor did it have anything to do with me. It wasn’t personal.
I finished up the section I had skipped and hitched a ride to the Sterling Inn. It felt so wholesome to be in the back of a pickup truck alone. Hitching alone. It really did feel like a totally different experience to me. I tuned into the sound of the cars passing by and the wind in my hair and the way the car drove so smoothly upon the pavement. I caught myself smiling and even engaging with the driver and his wife when they dropped me off.
The Sterling Inn was the place where Voodoo and I had resided in when it was pouring rain. I just wanted to stop by to take a breather and charge my stuff, maybe even have a cup of coffee. I thought it would feel intense coming back to a place where we shared space, but it was a lot easier than I thought. About a week had went by since then and I noticed standing in the same spot where we once were together, I now felt more calm and grounded in comparison to the anxiety.
From there, I hitched down to Rangeley to finish up another section. First person that stopped to give me a ride informed me that I was hitching in the wrong direction. Take two. Second person that stopped and picked me up was a young girl in her early thirties. We shared conversation about our latest life stories. I always found it fun how most women I met enjoyed girl talk. I was a sucker for it.
We spoke about energies, what it was like for her to live in her car and how she was managing to communicate her needs to the man she was currently romantic with. She said she had a hard time connecting with people in Maine ever since she moved up there in May. Most everyone she met, their interests had to do with partying, even if it was as simple as taking a boat out to go fishing or camping with friends on the weekend. She longed for more depth and stability and felt inspired to look for a new community while also moving towards sobriety.
“Talking to you is the first time I have ever gotten this deep with anyone since I moved out here,” she said, “for once I don’t feel so crazy for the vision I have.”
After she dropped me off, I immediately got picked up by an older couple who, upon getting in their car, rolled down the window and said, “You’ve been hiking, I’m sure you understand.”
They dropped me off at a restaurant they thought I would like and as I was about to walk in, a group of older folk stopped me in order to talk to them. They really liked my energy and wanted to know every detail of my traveling experience. I felt I was slowly finding my way again. I could feel the spark in my eyes. I could feel my Spirit perk up with joy. The feeling of connecting with ‘strangers’ felt more wholesome than sex. I prayed I would remember that when I was feeling down and warped in the sense of addiction.
When I sat down at the bar, I experienced a deep euphoria for several seconds. The hair on my body stood up and I felt wrapped in a warm fuzzy feeling of love. I closed my eyes and sank into that feeling. The only other time I had experienced such intensity of bliss was when I was very high on marijuana back in my teen years, sunbathing on the roof of my Prius, parked in the middle of a public forest preserve.
I chatted with a couple of guys that were sitting next to me at the bar. I asked if they were married, to which they both were, for almost two decades now! They were so young, I couldn’t even believe it at first. I asked them about their secrets to a healthy marriage and they both said consistent, honest communication and having the same core values.
“Also,” one of them said, “people make vows and promises to be together forever, and it’s all romantic and such, but people do change and you can’t control them, so that’s usually when people part ways and grow apart.”
The other guy advised not to bring past relationship trauma into a new relationship because I would get stuck in the same patterns and never actually heal by projecting my past onto the new person I was with. That was exactly what me and the girl who gave me a ride were talking about, too! I thanked Spirit for the synchronicity. I could see how that was another lesson for me to work through because I saw how I was often very tempted to bring the pain from a past relationship into a new one.
I had thoughts that still hooked me that said, “All men are the same. Just you wait and see.”
I used to easily accept those thought patterns in the past as truth, but now I had a lot more confidence and awareness coming to the conclusion that it was just a load of shit. Whenever I started to believe in those thoughts, I would gently remind myself to let go of the grip and allow relaxation for myself.
After I ate, I hitched to the Hiker Hut hostel before I got back on trail. There was no one to be found—no hikers, no employees. What caught my eye was a rock that had a quote painted on it.
It read, “Events happen, deeds are done, but there is no individual doer thereof.”
It was such a pleasant reminder for my mind, to remember that there truly was no out there “doing” anything to me, for that statement in itself was an impossibility.
I walked back to the trail and hiked another six miles and stealth camped atop a hill. There, I watched as the mosquitos attempted to penetrate their way into my tent. As it grew dark, I listened to the croaking of the frogs as they put me to sleep.
