Finding My Beat

“If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music he hears, however measured or far away."  Thoreau 

  It has taken me almost 40 years to understand this quote. I first came upon it in a high school English class.  I remember relating it to my autistic brother at that time, knowing that he heard a much different rhythm than I.  I recall working in Greenwich Village, looking at all of the wild hair & styles, thinking that all of those free wheeling folks were also listening to a funky beat that I could not hear. As I grew older, I would marry, have children, open a business, devote myself to all that is involved with trying to be a good provider, husband, dad, etc. I would find myself in a world sometimes as foreign to me as it seemed to my brother way back when.  And as life evolved I stopped wondering about all those different 

drum beats.  Probably because I no longer could hear one of my own.  

We all try to do our best for others, as much and as often as we can.....but do we actually do enough to help ourselves ? Do we work on improving who we are on a daily basis ?  This involves much more than going to the gym, or reading self help books, or even attending houses of worship.  All of those activities can help us feel better, but I pose this question:  Do they make us better people ?  And one day I realized that for all that I had tried to do for others I was failing myself.  I was not improving, mentally or physically, and I was not the best husband, dad, provider that I could be.  Somewhere along the way I had hit a wall, a self imposed restrictive net that would keep me in a comfort zone and make me feel like I was improving when I was not.  Fooling myself had proven to be an easy task, accomplished many times over the years with ease.   But could I look at the guy in the mirror and ask some tough questions ?  And better, would I react to the answers in a different way ?

  Our son Adam's birthday is in late April. After calling him to send my regards I decided to take a hike.  I would take Sue to the Pondicherry Wildlife Refuge for some early Spring Air.  The flat 3 miles proved to be more challenging for me than I care to admit here.  It also became a line in the sand day for me.  I was tired of some bad habits that I had acquired.  I grew weary of the excess weight that

I was carrying.  I was pissed off about not feeling well enough to be active.  I was disgusted with feeling closer to 80 years old than 20, even if that's what my age says.  I was angry with my performance at work, my attitude at home, my ability to be a good husband and father.  It was not that I had failed miserably at these functions.  It was more that I was not  excelling at any of them.  Or improving.  I had become stagnant.  And only I could change this, if I actually had the balls to do it.  But one thing would have to happen before I could do anything, one major step needed to occur before I could restart my cycle of improvement.

I needed to find my beat.

  More than reason, more than logic, I needed rhythm in my life again.  I needed pep in my step, I needed some of that youthful energy that seemed to have leaked out slowly over the years.  I needed to find something besides work and family that could bring some significant drumming back to my soul.

  I needed to go for a hike.  

Or should I say, as of mid November, 135 of them.  And counting.  And  at this point I am not sure I can stop.  I hike with sore ankles.  I hike with fevers.  I hike with a bad back.  I hike in snow and rain.  I hike when I do not feel like hiking.  I just hike whenever I can.

  Because in these beautiful woods of New Hampshire, much like Thoreau many years before me, I have rediscovered my beat.  It is a simple one, steady and sure, and I find it in nature.  That is where it has always been for me, and will always be.  I will miss some of modern pop culture, and my friends will pardon me if I am not up on the latest fads.  But if anyone is looking for me I am easily found, walking in the mountains with my dog and stepping to the music I hear.