All you need is love

Stream crossing

Last Thursday I joined more than a dozen of my friends for a hike, something I love to do every week, although it's quite difficult for me in the heat. There was a song playing inside my head during the entire day: the Beatles song "All You Need Is Love."

There's nothing you can know that isn't known
Nothing you can see that isn't shown
There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be
It's easy
All you need is love, all you need is love
All you need is love, love, love is all you need 

John Lennon wrote this song for Britain's contribution to Our World, the first live global television link. Watched by over 400 million in 25 countries, the program was broadcast via satellite on 25 June 1967. I didn't realize, until I decided to learn more about this song, that it has such a complex and asymmetric time signature, according to Wikipedia's entry. I know it is still a universally loved song fifty years later, and I hear it on the radio as well as in elevator music, still to this day. But is it true?

Lately I have been feeling very out of place on these hot summer hikes, falling farther and farther behind the others as I struggle to keep going. With my legs all a-tremble and fighting back nausea, I considered whether it's in everyone's best interest for me to go along. There are easier hikes, and I wonder whether it's just my own ego that keeps me from going on them. I actually almost joined the other group last week, but they were going somewhere that would be just as hot and, as it turned out, they turned around after a couple hikers got sick in the same way I did, mostly from the intense heat and lack of shade. And I did accomplish the hike without any permanent injury to anything other than my self-esteem.

Next month, I will celebrate ten years of hiking with the Senior Trailblazers and hope that, one way or another, I'll be able to continue on for awhile longer. The coming week I will not join them, because it's a scheduled hard hike in the hot sun, with no shade at all. The other group is going somewhere I've already been this summer (and it is also a hot one), so I'm not at all sure what I'll end up doing on Thursday. It's a little disconcerting, but I really have to remember that ten years of wonderful trips into the wilderness is a gift I will always cherish and can never lose.

It's sort of like when I stopped skydiving. At one time, it was the center of my world, with my entire life shaped by the excursions to the Drop Zone on the weekends, and week-long trips during the year going to boogies (gatherings of jumpers from all over with specialty aircraft to jump out of). When I finally finished being an active skydiver after 25 years, it was because I knew that I had become the oldest person still active on the Drop Zone and that I was placing myself in danger to continue doing something I loved. It took a fairly long process over a couple of years for me to get to that realization. I seem to be in the middle of that same process concerning these difficult hikes. There are still plenty of places for me to go into the wilderness; I just have to take stock realistically of what I can and cannot do any more.

Learning to love myself and have compassion for the aging hippie inside me that never went away, never learned the lesson of moderation and tends to live in denial, well that seems to be my current assignment, doesn't it? Most of the time, I am happy and enjoy every single day, whether it's puttering in the garden, reading a good book, talking with my mate, or struggling up a hill. And, of course, I must always remember to be thankful for the wonderful life I've been given. Many of the family and friends who have mattered so much to me are already gone, and I'm still here. I've outlived both of my parents and my two sons, but it won't always be true: at some time I'll be joining them, too. Is it true that love is all I need?

Yes, I believe it is. When I think back on my life, the moments that stand out in high relief from the others are filled with memories of love. It's also true that although I suffered during the loss of my loved ones, that suffering is not what stands out when I think back: it's those priceless moments of happiness that I remember. They will never leave me, and I am blessed that I can recall myriad episodes when we laughed together until we cried.

My current assignment seems to be to find the next stage of my life, explore where the days will take me, and find myself surrounded by love everywhere I look. Waiting for me at the coffee shop are a couple of my good friends, and my partner sleeps beside me as I write. My pals in the world of the Internet are also present (that would be you, my friend) and give me great pleasure as I share my thoughts this morning.

I've managed to write another post, although this morning I had no idea what might emerge. Sometimes the magic works, and sometimes it doesn't. Today was one of those days when I felt the magic. I do hope the coming week will bring you some realization of the love that surrounds you. And I wish that same thing for myself. Be well until we meet again next week.