Monday, August 18, 2014

Help

We are on vacation on Mount Desert Island and I decide to take my kids for a small hike on one of Acadia National Park's stunning trails. I had gone on this trail last summer and was looking forward to sharing the views with them. I knew they would enjoy climbing some of the large rocks on the way up and they would have an amazing perspective of Long Pond from up high on the mountain. The trail does a loop and should have brought us back to the parking lot where we began. As we headed down, my kids were still having fun, but they were starting to slip on the rocks and pine needles and were getting tired. When I realized that we were now down almost at the level of the pond that just a short while ago we were seeing from high above, I knew we had missed some turn. What happened next could be out of a movie. 

Just as it was becoming clear that we had gone the wrong way, I saw a woman reading on a large boulder on the cliff at the edge of the pond. She turned when she heard us. I asked if she knew these trails and she quickly stood to help. She said that her husband was taking a swim down below and that he had a map in his bag. She offered to get it. I watched this beautiful woman nimbly disappear down the side of this rock and then reappear with a map in hand. We tried to figure out where we had gone wrong and it was clear was that we would have to go back the way we came, which inwardly produced a feeling of dread. Just then, her husband appeared. With his tanned, muscular body and glistening hair, he was equally as fit and handsome as she was fit and beautiful. He swiftly climbed up this boulder as if it was as easy as riding an escalator. He smiled and quickly assessed the situation and said, "we are parked at the end of the pond there. It wouldn't take long to walk there and we could drive you back." I hesitated and felt I couldn't accept this generous help. I didn't want to put them out of their way. The man saw my hesitation and said that yesterday he got very lost on the carriage roads and someone drove him back to his hotel. He clearly understood my feeling and wanted to assure me that it was okay. If I was alone, I would have found my way back. But for my kids sake, I gratefully accepted the offer. He asked if I could take a picture of the two of them, which made me happy to do.

We started our group hike on the trail back to where their car was parked and my kids chatted away with them. In the short walk, I learned that the husband was finishing medical school and would soon begin his residency somewhere and that she was a lawyer wanting a change. They were searching for where they wanted to live to start a family. In the meantime they were on their vacation here for the first time and loving it. We talked about rock climbing and kayaking. They drove us around the mountain, for what felt like a long time, to where our car was parked. From the back seat, I could see the man's smile light up in delight as my daughter, who becomes excited and outgoing in situations like these, told a story about camp in her sweet little voice. I felt the need to give back something on the way, so I offered tips of places I had learned from insiders on the island that they might enjoy. They were grateful. I thanked them and wished them well on their life paths.

As we got back in our car, Ella exclaimed, "so that's why you should have a map, Mommy!" Her almost 7 year old wisdom scolding me for my relaxed unpreparedness. (Of course, I think to myself, but if we did, we would have missed all of that!). I laughed and we all enjoyed the ride home and the adventure we had. I could have left the experience at that. Just a minor adventure on vacation. But, I think when we do that, when we don't reflect on our experiences in a greater way, we miss half the richness of what goes on. We lose an opportunity to appreciate. This is what I got from those two hours...

There I was, with my kids, in the woods of Acadia, wondering what to do next and this angelic couple appeared. It was as if they were there, in that moment, to help us and maybe there was something in it for them. It was truly a gift. The moment asked of me to be humble and to stretch to accept help, to be taken care of. In doing so, I was reminded that accepting help is a generous act. Generous to myself, the receiver, and generous to the one who offers it in letting the person in. In accepting a ride, I allowed this couple the opportunity to reciprocate the gift they had received from a stranger the day before. I could tell that it made them feel good. This is what gives life meaning. These exchanges and experiences of giving and receiving with people, and animals, and all living things is what we get to take with us. It is why we take the risk of loss, and sometimes rejection, to engage with others in large and small intimate ways. Even greater, when we can outwardly ask for help in situations where we may be deeply suffering, we are surrendering control and allowing vulnerability to bring us somewhere new, or to make a deeper connection with someone, or something, or possibly with ourselves. That is a courageous and admirable act, though it might not feel like it in the moment.  

As the couple drove off, a part of me wished that I had exchanged names and contact information. Somehow they felt like a part of my life in that brief 20 minutes. I wanted to hear, over time, how their young lives would unfold. And yet, there was a part of me that knew that what we shared was complete and enough. They are a part of my life, as everyone else is on this earth. I can send them good wishes on their paths and know that our lives entwined for a moment in time. How beautiful that is! What a gift to be received in taking the "wrong" path, and in taking another's extended hand. What a relief to recognize that life doesn't get better than these moments. There is nothing else we need to do, but make ourselves available to them.




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