"Go to the limits of your longing"

It's essential

A place I often long for: Two Islands along the Bay of Fundy in Parrsboro, NS

True story. Sunday evening, I told a friend that I feel conflicted about writing these days. There are things I want to write about but wonder whether now is the right time (when there is so very much going on in the world).

The thing I was thinking about but didn’t verbalize is the topic of “longing.” And then the next morning, I opened the book I’m currently reading (Katherine May’s Enchantment), flipped the page, and read:

“Go to the limits of your longing.”

Okay, maybe this is the right time to be thinking about longing after all. That line May quoted is from Rainer Maria Rilke’s 1905 poetry collection, The Book of Hours. I’ve not yet read the collection but perceive Rilke to be writing about longing in a spiritual context. May says, “Rilke’s God wants to run through us like water through a pipe.” She goes on to write about meditation and how we have to allow ourselves to be overcome, to let it crack you open, and “expose your beating heart.”

First, YES to all of this! But where does longing fit in? What does it mean to go to the limits of your longing? What does it mean to long?

My Webster’s student dictionary (which is starting to show its age – and mine) tells me that longing is a strong, eager craving. The thing I’ve been pondering most is about the interplay between longing and excitement. I wonder if longing is an emotion that often precedes excitement. We long for things that are perhaps out of reach and then feel excited as the time to experience them draws near.

I’m also thinking about what longing has looked like in my own life. At different points in life, I’ve longed for certain foods. To be reunited with loved ones. To return to some of my favorite places. For my next life chapter, whether that be a new home, job, or some other fresh start. I’ve longed for more time to myself. For peace. For improved communities and for professional goals to come to fruition.

Many of us in this current moment are longing for better times. Whatever your longing, it’s essential to allow space for it. To write and talk about it. To make plans. To feel excited. To let joy and wonder flow through you. (Here’s a post I wrote about “the wonder of whales” last summer, by the way.)

So back to the matter of going “to the limits of your longing.” What does this even mean? I don’t know for sure, but if I were to venture a guess, it might have to do with imagining possibilities that feel too big, too much…ones you might say are “beyond my wildest dreams.” Maybe they’re desires you dare not say out loud (but why not?). They would be bold, empowering, terrifying even. The kinds of things that expose our beating hearts. What do you think? I’d love to know.

Wait, what is this blog about again?

I want to welcome anyone who’s recently started following! I recognize that some of you are here for my ideas about Trail Towns, communities, and the outdoor economy. But (as you are now learning), sometimes I have to write about our shared humanity, about people, connections, and the challenges we face. Because any community is only as vibrant and healthy as the people who call it home.

In case you missed it

• Here’s a post about the recently released study on trail community programs. I hope you’ll check it out and reach out to Julie or me if you have any questions.

• A year ago this month, I wrote, “Do I Have Enough Time?” I’m still grappling with the question. I suspect you might be, too.

• I’m heading to the International Trails Summit in April. Are you? Let’s connect if so!