Breaking down the binary

Never done: Shadow post.

What a day. Today I did something that's been on my Never Done list for almost 8 years, and yet I can't write about it, because I want to protect another person's privacy. But it was long-awaited, and positive, and I'll write all about it in a private document, and keep it for myself and my own practice. Meanwhile, it was a banner day for doing things I'd never done before, so I have plenty to write about anyhow (and make up for yesterday.)

Hiked up Fishkill Ridge: The weather was supposed to be rainy all weekend, and so I brought board games for people to play in the hotel on the day of the (evening) wedding. But when we woke up on Saturday morning, it was a gorgeous, crisp, blue-sky day, with acres of hills and ridges of fall foliage. So Josh, Jeremy, and I decided to go hiking. We drove to Beacon, where we set out to hike up Fishkill Ridge. The trail we chose was an initial 600 foot ascent over the course of a mile -- once we walked about a mile a half to get to the trail head. As we set off, I told the two others that I would go slowly, and that I thought we should all go at our own paces. We all agreed, and started to climb. I don't enjoy climbing. I love walking (and running) on flat terrain, and I love hiking down hill, and I don't mind going up for short bursts to keep things interesting, but I don't enjoy long, steep climbs. I was 17 the first time I did one, when I climbed one of the White Mountains in New Hampshire, in the Spring. I went with a college friend of my sister's, and I was completely unprepared -- I had sneakers, and there was still a lot of snow on the trail. What I most remember from that climb was the way he would go ahead of me, and then stop to wait for me to catch up, and then as soon as I got to him, he would keep going -- so he got little rests (which he probably didn't need or want) and I got none. By the end of the day, I had decided I wasn't interested in spending more time with him, and as it turned out, he died in a climbing accident a couple years later. I wish I remembered his name, alev hasholem.

As the three of us ascended Fishkill Ridge, I found myself behind in a way that's not uncommon. I fell behind about 5 paces, and then stayed there. I don't get why I didn't keep falling behind more and more, and I don't get why, if I could keep pace at 5 steps behind, I couldn't keep pace alongside my friends, where I could hear and be part of the conversation. I was behind, and I tried to pace myself so that I could climb steadily. At some point along the way, I noticed that I wasn't looking around at the gorgeous trees, or taking in the way the light shone through them. I was climbing, and trying not to get too tired. So I stopped, and looked, and took it in, and my friends stopped too, and we all enjoyed sitting, and when we got up to keep climbing, we somehow fell back into the exact same 5 steps behind formation again. That's when I realized -- they wanted to talk with each other. So I fell back a couple more steps, just so it wouldn't be tempting to try to catch up, and climbed the rest of the way. As we neared the top, I got more energy, and bounded up ahead of the others. If the view were a painting, it would be straight out of the Hudson River School. And ... it was my first time seeing the view from that high. (Shehekhianu.) Those captains of industry knew what they were doing, building their mansions into those Hudson River hillsides. But we had a wedding to get to, so we moved along, and climbed back down. (I love down!)

Later, at the wedding, having already made the choice between wearing a dress that was a little too tight or a dress that was a little too short, (I chose the short one -- it was more comfortable, and better for dancing) we all said the Shehekhianu together, to bless the new marriage. The rabbi was impressed that so many people knew the blessing, and that made me smile -- because 6 weeks ago, I would have mumbled my way through half of it. Despite my complicated feelings about marriage in general, this was a wedding that was easy to bless --the khosn and kale (bride and groom, in Yiddish) are very much in love, and as far as I can tell, really good for each other. If this post wasn't already too long, I'd write about my complicated feelings about marriage, but instead let's suffice it to say that after about 4 hours, I finally broke down the binary on the dance floor.