I went hiking one morning last week after rain had left the canyon slippery and sludgey with mud. After ten steps, my tennies were caked and heavy and I was sliding and clomping. Um, anti-graceful.
And I had this fleeting thought that it was ridiculous to be hiking. Like I was doing something wrong. Guilt attack. Apparently I was going to somehow break nature or something by walking in the mud.
I’m familiar with this (little) girl in trouble gig. And since I’m playing with the idea that every little thought yanking at my attention isn’t unconditionally true, I wondered what this one was all about.
Because really, Monkey Mind? Break nature?
And what eased the wave of guilt was to play this thought all the way out. What if I had stayed home because of the mud? Then what would I be telling myself?
I’m pretty sure that if I had stayed home, the tune would sound more like:
What a baby. A little mud? Good one. Pathetic excuse for your laziness. Please.
Lovely. So the Guilt Monger will fight either side. And realizing that I can’t dissolve the guilt by choosing to act differently is counterintuitively freeing.
Fine, guilt. If you’re going to hang around either way, might as well do what I want.
So I went on another hike this morning, again after heavy rain. (Dear Divine Meteorologist, I live in Southern California for one very sunny reason. Thank you.)
Anyway, three minutes in, my foot sunk so deep you could hear slurping as I yanked it out of the hole, muddy to my ankle. Gross. And so funny. Funny because, again, not so graceful. But also because I had already out-philosophized some of that guilt.
So I feel guity when I hike in the mud. Dirty shoes and fragile nature. I feel guilty when I use mud as an excuse to skip my hike. And then noticing both dissolves the guilt so that I get to laugh.
Do you ever notice this teeter-tottering? Does it help you ignore the irrational resistance?
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
I think I’ve noticed a lot of self-blame in my life lately. Not from stepping in mud, but from being so responsible for everything. If I’m responsible for everything, then naturally, everything’s my fault. Everything.
Interesting to think that my self-blame plays on both sides…and actually, come to think of it, it does! And that is hilarious. And helps beat my rational brain into maybe believing that I can be nice to myself for once.
I love hiking in the mud! When I was at camp one time, we played capture the flag in a gigantic mud pit. It was disgusting and wonderful. Anyway… my guilt likes to tell me I should not be going running on a weekday. What I have been doing lately is literally picking up my stuffed monster and saying–Hi! I see you! We’re going to try this just for today and see if it actually makes us more productive and happy, okay? And he’s like, oh, I didn’t know you had a plan here. OK, go ahead then.