Learning to have fun again

I went for a walk with my friend yesterday, and besides the benefit of hiking in the Kettles we also get to listen and vent to one another about our lives. Part of that involves personal struggles. One of her statements stuck with me:

“It’s hard learning how to have fun again.”

I know it’s a privileged statement, but it sums up how I’ve been feeling. For the past nine years, Tyler’s worked 10 to 12 hour days during the week, not leaving enough time to do much of anything besides eat, watch a show and go to bed. Now that were both home in the evenings, we don’t know how to function around one another. I’ve retreated into my books, leaving him alone and unsure of how to handle my elective absence. The dreary winter weather doesn’t help spark any energy for much else, leaving much of our evenings spent in the doldrums. 

Relationships change over time, and after more than 16 years together were at another one of those paradigm shifts.

We needed that road trip together to help with this new change in our lives. For so many years the restaurant was the center of our orbit, and now we’re drifting free of that tether. 

While we were on our 30 hour straight death march drive to Arizona, we made a goal to hike 1,000 miles together this year. We know it’s a little ridiculous, but we thought it would be fun to see how close we can get. After we got home, we logged all the miles from our hikes and made a board titled “We Will Walk 500 miles and We May Walk 500 More.” So far we’re up to 59.47 miles.

It’s just one of our goals we’ve come up with to help navigate this new phase in our relationship. I’m lucky to have a partner who wants to grow old with me, and who strongly believes every new year will be the best year yet. This year I believe it too. 

The beginning of change

It’s been an overwhelming week. We announced we were selling the restaurant, and also moving the bakery storefront back up to the production bakery (not by choice, but to make a long story short we listened to what the universe was telling us).

The amount of support we’ve received from the community is humbling. I knew that people would understand, but I didn’t realize how many people would take the time to write emails to us, or send messages through social media. It makes me cry, but not because I’m sad. There’s just so many things bubbling under the surface, that my body just doesn’t know what to do, so it lets the tears flow. 

Growing together

 We celebrated our 12th wedding anniversary this week - if you're counting all the years we've been together, it'd be sixteen. That's a while to be with someone. Not as long as other people, but still a fair amount of time. What we have been able to do is grow together, and separately. Obviously we're not the same people were were in our early 20s, but we still want to have fun, build a life together, and fight for that. Yes, we've had some hard times where one of us has slept in the guest room from time to time, but ultimately I think we are stronger than we've ever been as a couple. I am thankful for that.

And now we've entered into the next phase of our lives: planning a life without a restaurant at its center. Navigating what that looks like for both of us is going to take some time, but day by day we're beginning to look at what that really means. Tyler already seems to have a plan for where he is headed, while I'm trying to bumble around and figure things out. I know I will, and he is supportive of it, but right now I feel a little lost. But I am hopeful, and I have a lot of support from everyone around me. 

Thinking about our anniversary next year is weird, but in a good way. So much is up in the air right now, but for the first time I feel like we have a bit more control over the direction we want our lives to take. We both have a lot of soul searching to do, as a couple and as individuals. I am excited to see where we end up. I know big life changes take a while, but I hope a year from now I'll be able to look at this and smile fondly about the first steps being taking toward something - whatever that something may be. 

Crystal Lake & Circle Peak

We went backpacking for the first time in five years. It has been a goal of ours this year. Because we’re older and wiser, we are easing ourselves back into it, trip by trip. 

Our route was 4.5 miles into Crystal Lake where we'd set up camp, then continue to Circle Peak without our packs. The whole trip was 18 miles, with only half of it actually backpacking.

Before we set foot on the trail head, we knew that it was overgrown. Tyler had looked up the recent trail reviews, and even our hiking book said it was overgrown. He even sharpened the machete his sister had given him as a present from Tanzania years ago to use if necessary. We were ready for the brush that lay before us.

Well, for the most part. We accidentally slept a little later than we wanted, so we didn’t get started until 9 a.m. and by then, it was already plenty warm. And our shorts and short sleeves were not optimal for the overgrown path. He tried swinging the machete for a bit, but we got into a patch of young alders and there wasn’t much the blade could do besides bounce off the wood. We forged ahead, made it out and up to the lake. After cooling off in the shade, we made camp and relaxed for the rest of the day.

The next morning we set off early for Circle Peak. It’s now one of my favorite hikes because of the the changing terrain; old growth forest, meadow wetlands, alpine forest, mountain wildflowers and the view of the mountain range from the top. You could see Mount Baker, Glacier Peak, the Three Matterhorns and all the other peaks in between.

When we got back to camp we had hammock time. We watched the world just go on it’s merry way. The birds, an occasional trout jumping, spiders’ building their webs high up between the trees, bees collecting pollen from the berry bushes, and a dragon fly darting around like a World War II attach plane. For how busy it was, it was incredibly still. Sometimes it’s nice to sit and just be for our last night there.

In the morning, we had to head back to it all. The hike out wasn’t hard physically, but I wasn’t ready to leave yet.

I can’t wait for the next adventure.

Seven years late

 This is something I used to love. I would make a post once a week about something I found noteworthy in our lives. But after taking on a business, I started to let some things go. Then we kept growing, adding a bakery, and all of the sudden it felt like things were out of control. 

After getting the business through two years of a pandemic, and a lot of internal work on myself, I think I need to get back to the things that brought me joy, and made me feel like me. Now that I've taken steps away from both businesses, I feel a little adrift and lost. So I'm attempting to anchor myself to things I used to do, in hopes of finding my footing again. I know, it's all very cliché, but sometimes that's what you need to back on track - a cheesy power ballad that makes you want to grab your friends and head on to the dance floor.

So this is my attempt to make that happen, to hold on to that feeling, give ourselves one more chance, cause I can't fight this feeling anymore. I'll see you all on that dance floor.