After a year or so of taking every chance to get wherever a full tank of gas could take me, I’ve spent the last little while looking more inwards than outwards. I want this coming year to be my most interesting yet, taking more advantage of the time I have, and taking the next step in a lot of facets of life. This takes preparation and planning, and a lot of getting the hell over myself.
Part of this process has been weekly walks around Belle Isle. A short skip and hop away from Church Hill, it’s probably one of the finest assets Richmond has at its disposal. A hub for mountain bikers, climbers, runners, kayakers, and dog walkers alike, it’s a safe refuge from the business of the city just across the James. I go there for the aforementioned activities, to hammock on its shores for reading, writing, and meditating, and to continue to hone my photography. Despite visiting frequently, it feels like there’s always something new to see, a nook that kept itself obscured from me until the right moment.
It’s caused me to recognize the importance of being where you are. I’ve spent so much time thinking about where I’m not, and not where I am. I think we all have those folks we either actually know or have a parasocial relationship with online who are at some point that seems simply unattainable. Maybe they have some great gig going for them, maybe they’re on some incredible adventure, maybe they’re somewhere that from the outside seems infinitely more interesting than where you are. On one hand, it’s inspiring! What really separates myself from these folks? I’m capable of doing those things! On the other hand – what really separates myself from these folks, if I’m capable of doing those things but aren’t, does the issue lay with me?
Comparison of course is the thief of joy. I’ll be at home thinking “man I wish I was out in the mountains right now.” So then I’ll get out into the mountains and think “man I wish I was out west or up north in those mountains.” So then, eventually, I’ll get out there, and think “huh I’m homesick.” It’s not a habit I’m proud of, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
My love affair with Belle Isle, however, has helped me to begin overcoming these tendencies. The whitewater there, while gnarly, isn’t the most hardcore. Its walls are by no means the stuff of climbing legend. Its mountain biking trails aren’t necessarily a mecca for the community. Y’know what though? They’re all there, all the same, and still enjoyable as all hell. If I can enjoy it for what it is and avoid disliking it for what it’s not, maybe I can like where I am for what it is, maybe I can like myself for who I am, while still working towards the next chapters of my life.
Just as I’ve made going to Belle Isle a weekly habit, I plan to make uploading some sort of post weekly, at least, a habit. It might fluctuate depending on, y’know, life, but that’s the vision. Until next time.
