It's Not All Waterfalls
The Waterfall Photos Were Real. So Was the Broken Camper.
If you've followed me or know me for any length of time, you've probably noticed I love nature. Waterfalls, flowers, rivers, hiking trails, camping, kayaking—being outdoors is one of the ways I reconnect with myself and regulate my nervous system. It makes me happy!
Recently, I shared on social media some photos and videos from a waterfall-chasing trip. My home state of West Virginia has a Waterfall Trail that I have been working through. What those posts didn't show was what happened a few days later.
What Social Media Didn't Show
On what was supposed to be a leisurely trip home, with a few more waterfalls on the agenda after a wonderful few days of nature, music, and adventure, our camper broke.
Instead of enjoying a meandering drive through beautiful scenery, we found ourselves sitting in a nearly empty campground in another state, in the pouring rain, trying to coordinate repairs and figure out what to do next.
I cried. A lot.
I was frustrated.
I was disappointed.
I was a bit angry.
And honestly, it just wasn't a very good day.
The Myth of Constant Calm
As a mental health professional, mindfulness practitioner, and facilitator, I think one of the biggest misconceptions people have is that mindfulness, healing, and emotional well-being should prevent difficult emotions—or that calm is the goal.
They don't and it isn't.
Mindfulness doesn't stop campers from breaking.
Therapy doesn't eliminate frustration.
Personal growth doesn't guarantee that life will go according to plan.
And at the end of the day, we're still human.
What these things can do is help us move through difficult moments with a little more awareness, a bit more flexibility, and maybe some more compassion toward ourselves and others.
The goal isn't to be calm all the time.
The goal isn't to immediately find the silver lining.
The goal isn't to force gratitude while standing in the rain with a broke ass camper that's going to cost so much money to fix.
Sometimes the goal is simply to acknowledge reality.
This is SOO hard.
I'm upset.
I don't like this. I didn't want this.
And then, when we're ready (or even when we are not), we take the next step.
Eventually, the rain stopped.
A plan came together.
The camper was "fixed" enough that we could get on the road.
And eventually we got home.
Not because I found the perfect mindset. Not because I stayed positive every moment. Not because I avoided difficult feelings.
We got through it because difficult times are often temporary, even when they don't feel that way.
Both Are Part of Life
The waterfall photos were real.
So was the broken camper.
Both are part of life.
I think there is something freeing about remembering that we don't have to choose between appreciating life's beauty and acknowledging its challenges. We can do both.
We can stand in awe of a waterfall and flowers one day
AND cry in a campground the next.
We can feel grateful
AND frustrated.
Hopeful
AND disappointed.
Calm
AND overwhelmed.
AND still be human.
Being human means making room for and including it all.
Perhaps resilience isn't about avoiding life's storms or pretending that they don't suck.
Perhaps resilience is learning that we can move through them, one step, one moment, one breath at a time, until we reach the next point in our journey.