Adventure

You look down and on your feet are your favourite pair of scruffy old brown boots. Their laces are mismatched, they’re worn, torn, battered and covered in mud. They might not be as pretty as the sparkly block heels you had on last night, but everything about them makes you smile.

Today, an adventure lies ahead.

Leaves, seeds and berries have fallen and the tiniest of raindrops are shimmying down from the skies as you make your way along a harvest trail towards the foot of the hill.

The birds must be hiding in their nests. All you can hear is autumn’s rubble crunching beneath your feet and every footstep brings with it a surprise; a shiny blackberry, a tiny red robin or a pretty mottled leaf.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Up you climb, along past the meadow and towards the farmhouse where a friendly tabby cat tinkers along beside you for a while.

The air is muggy and the skies aren’t blue like you’d hoped they would be. Thick, grey clouds hang so low it’s as though you’ve already reached the top, you can barely see your arms when you reach them out in front of you.

All of a sudden, a signpost appears. “Castle this way,” it reads, with an arrow pointing due North. You wave goodbye to the little tabby cat, close the gate behind you and clamber on up through the mist and drizzle.

Fresh, clean air flows through your body. Your calves are starting to burn and your cheeks are beginning to tingle. Every single cell within you screams out “Thank you” for getting out of bed and choosing to be here.

I’m an all or nothing kind of human, a manifestor-generator if you’re into Human Design, an ENFP if you’re into Myers Briggs, a Plant if you’re into Belbin and a plantpot if you know me well enough.

In short, I like adventure; new things, new people, new places. I’m multi-faceted, multi-passionate, always have about ninety-three different projects on the go and I often feel like I love life more than life itself.

My problem is, however, that I always want to do everything and twenty-four hours a day is never enough. I’m constantly having to reassess where I’m investing my energy, who and what I’m giving my time to.

I’m always trying to find the yin to my yang.

This week I’ve decided to explore all the things I call my yin and there was no better place to start this journey of self-investigation than on top of a mini mountain, surrounded by like-minded wanderers eating butties out of tinfoil in the pouring rain.

There’s just something about leg-aching climbs that makes me want to explode with happiness. The sounds, the silence, the smells, the squelching sodden soils and slippery rocks, wide eyes and deep breaths. Everything about it brings me into balance.

Yin number one: nature is therapy.