I suppose I ought to add in a day off before taking off on a trip, but in the pastorate I suspect that prep day would evaporate. If I'm in town, the needs of the parish are going to pursue me. Which means I always begin every trip on the edge of nervous exhaustion.
But I'm leaving in the morning, one way or another. Gotta get this trip down. I was originally going to go on this trip at the end of May, but it got rescheduled because of other commitments. I was hoping for company on the trip, but couldn't find a companion; nevertheless, I fear that if I don't go -- even alone -- the possibility of the trip will evaporate. That would not bode well for the much bigger trip I plan to take to the UK next spring.
Life is about keeping commitments. About throwing one's hat over the fence, to borrow a metaphor used by JFK. (After throwing one's hat over the fence, one is obligated to climb over and fetch it back.) I have accomplished the things I have because I have made myself do the things I said I would do, instead of letting myself be derailed by stuff. The people who sit around and say, "Wow, I wish I could do those things" evoke a smile from me, but no comment. You see, they could do those things, but they let other things get in the way.
I am a lifelong Scouter, whose Vigil Name in the Order of the Arrow is Gischitehen. It means "determined one." I wondered why they gave me that name back when I was 19 years old. But I guess they understood me better than I understood myself then. That's who I am. I have an aversion to talking big and then not performing. I want others to know that they can believe in me.
So, Mt. Marcy, you are mine. Come rain, come hail, come bears or boulders. I've waited long enough.