You can’t get there from here
I tend to freak myself out every chance I get. “There is no way I’m making it to that summit. You’ve got to be kidding me. Forget that noise—I can’t get there from here.” My Self tries to reason with me every time I come to a big climb—”Nope, no way, can’t do it.” Self would be right if we were to try it in one go; but there is a better way—what I like to call the Next Stump Method. It’s all about taking the impossible and breaking it down into something possible to achieve.
A method of milestones
If there is no way we are making it to the summit, why would we even try? Because we can reach the summit if we break it down into milestones. “You see that stump up there on the right?” I ask Self. “Yeah, what about it?” bitterness permeates Self’s response. “Do you think we can make it there?” I ask. “That seems doable.” Self gives in. And off we go. Once I arrive at my milestone I stop and take five deep breaths. You can use whatever breathing exercise you choose. I like to do what is called box breathing—inhale to the count of four, hold your breath to the count of four, then exhale to another count of four, hold your breath to the count of four, and then repeat. This type of breathing helps calm you down by reducing stress. Having an anxiety disorder, I find this exercise to be quite useful. After I am finished with my breathing exercise I pick the next stump, or whatever object up ahead that I choose, and I hike on to that milestone. After reaching a few milestones I look back to see how far I’ve come. I’m always pleasantly surprised by my progress. I press on to the next stump up ahead- and the tree after that—and the giant root after that. Milestone by milestone I work my way up until, you guessed it—I am standing on the summit!
Break away from the crowd
As humans, it is all too easy to follow the crowd. Sometimes what we see other people doing, we come to believe is the only way to do something. Metaphorically speaking, the Next Stump Method is the path less taken. You must be willing to break away from the crowd and do things your own way. Sometimes that can be very difficult.
There is a mental game in play when we try to keep up with others. When we fall behind it is easy to feel defeated. At the beginning of my 2024 Appalachian Trail thru-hike attempt, I made the mistake of trying to keep up with others who were clearly faster than me. When I fell behind, or worse—when I knew I was keeping someone waiting, my anxiety level went through the roof! The feeling I have when I know someone is waiting on me heightens not only my anxiety but causes me physical stress as well. My shoulders tighten, my heart races, my thoughts run wild. I become a mess. But most importantly, I stop having fun—my journey loses its joy.
When we get frustrated because we can’t do what others do, discouragement sneaks in and robs us of our dreams. Frustration steals our joy, and we find ourselves giving up before we even begin. If we take a different approach—a piecemeal approach to achieving our goals, we may learn that they are closer than we think.
There is a popular saying in the hiking community—”Hike your own hike.” It means going at your own pace and enjoying your own journey. This is what the Next Stump Method is all about—doing what works best for you.
One step at a time is all you can take
You can’t worry about steps two, three, four, or seven hundred and eighteen until you’ve taken step one. In fact, one step—the first step—is all you need to 1. Move forward. 2. To start something. 3. To begin again. Take just one step and allow the next step to worry about itself.
When we pray the classic Lord’s Prayer, we ask God to give us “this day our daily bread”. We don’t ask for tomorrow’s bread. Why? Quite simply, tomorrow’s bread hasn’t been baked yet. All we can expect is today’s bread. All we can take is one step at a time. Tomorrow’s journey is for tomorrow. The finish line comes after the beginning, not before.
When we take a step, we allow the next step to follow. This is compartmentalizing at its finest. And you know what? It works.
Everest stepping
When the uphill climbs are especially brutal I like to do something I call “Everest stepping”. If you have ever watched a video of an alpine mountaineer climbing Mount Everest you will see that they take a couple of steps, stop, reach forward on the lead rope, and then take a couple more steps. I imagine it’s because the conditions are so demanding that a couple of steps are all they can manage at a time. That’s how I feel sometimes—like I am Everest stepping my way up the hill. My conditions are nowhere near as brutal as those on Mount Everest, but the point that I’m trying to make is that no matter how slow you go—at least you are making progress. I’m convinced that if it weren’t for the lack of oxygen, below-zero temperatures, and hidden crevasses, I would be able to summit Mount Everest. It might take me seventy-five years, but one step at a time I would get to the top.
Ask yourself, is it a race?
If the answer is yes, then you had better get to running. If the answer is no, then settle in for the journey.
Unless you are in a competition or are trying to set the fastest known time record, do yourself a favor—slow down and enjoy the process.
Goats on airplanes, a rugby match, and the Grand Canyon
Several years ago, I had the privilege of volunteering with a missionary group in the South Pacific. I was stationed in Western Samoa and needed to make my way home to the Washington D.C. area—the other side of the world. I was incredibly far from home, and this would be an insanely long trip.
The first leg of the trip was to fly from Western Samoa to Auckland, New Zealand. The aircraft I boarded was more like a shuttle plane, complete with farm animals. A passenger a couple rows ahead brought aboard a goat. The goat’s name was Santa. Every time the plane hit a pocket of turbulence Santa would let out a long maaaa, which was immediately followed by a gentle consolation and a kiss on the snout by its owner. It was sweet, but it went on for four hours. After the third hour, my head was ready to explode. It was “Old MacDonald’s Farm” set at 20,000 feet.
When I arrived in New Zealand there was an eight-hour layover in Auckland before the next flight to Los Angeles. Eight hours in an airport on the other side of the world is a long time. I found a lounge and settled in to watch a couple rugby matches. I am a big American football fan. Rugby was like football, without the precautions of shoulder pads and helmets. I can’t say that I understood what I was watching, but I was intrigued nonetheless. Turns out, I like rugby!
The flight to Los Angeles was an incredible twelve hours. Thankfully, I slept through most of it. When I arrived in L.A. I was greeted by another two-hour layover. At this point, it felt like I was in the “Twilight Zone”. This was a never-ending trip!
One final six-hour flight got me home to Washington Dulles Airport. This flight flew over the Grand Canyon. This was one of the most spectacular things I have ever seen. The colors, and the texture of the canyon; it was remarkable to behold from the sky. It seemed like we were over it for a good fifteen minutes. That’s saying a lot when traveling six hundred miles per hour!
By the time I arrived home I had been traveling for nearly thirty-six hours, but due to the time changes the actual calendar date was still the same. I basically lived the same day twice.
The moral of this story is that sometimes you can’t do it all in one shot—and that’s okay. If it weren’t for all the stops and delays in my trip, I wouldn’t have experienced a different culture. I doubt I will ever share a flight with another goat named Santa. I wouldn’t have discovered that I like rugby, nor would I have experienced the Grand Canyon in such a spectacular way. I would have just gone from point A to point B, missing out on all these experiences—experiences that have become stories that I share with fine folks like you some three decades later. I Next Stumped my way home from Western Samoa, and it made all the difference.
The advantages of being a slow hiker
I love nature. Plants, wildlife, and the smell of the forest—each are some of my favorite things. I am also fortunate to have a hiking buddy who knows all about plants—which ones are edible, and which ones have medicinal values. Each time we hike together, I learn something new. This is because we take our time. We are slow – and that is just fine with us. I have learned so much—how to recognize animal tracks, and the sounds of wildlife. We go at our own pace and experience nature one stump at a time.
As fate turns out, if I had been rushed on the day I met my buddy back in Georgia, I probably would have never met him. The lesson I learned is that fate can’t be rushed.
Find joy in the journey!
Focus on what you can do—that next stump up ahead, the next tree, the next whatever. Don’t worry about the finish line, worry about the next step. Take your time and enjoy the journey. Tomorrow has its own journey; and like tomorrow’s bread, tomorrow’s journey hasn’t been paved yet. The path you are on is all about now.
Remember to allow yourself to rest between the milestones of your journey. Breathe and refocus on the next stump. Then put your energy into getting there. Most importantly—keep pressing on. Learn to find joy in the journey.