Travelogue: Cummins Falls + Rest as a Verb

The best conversations are had on a hike.

My friend Hannah, from The Beauty of Process Blog, had an amazing idea to collaborate + hike at the same time, and I jumped at the chance. We were able to gather images for Hannah's guest post for #SlowFashionOctober, plus a few extras for our blogs. We decided on Cummins Falls, because it's a waterfall and we'd never been. And it was so worth it.

But the conversation we ended up having was something completely different from the busy, multi-tasking vibe I thought we would have.

Something about being in the woods, hearing the water, feeling the breeze... I think we both had accidental mini-revelations while we walked to the falls.

See, we've both been hit hard by the reality of college. Me, for the second time; her, for the first. And it's been pretty overwhelming. We've both had to make adjustments and change our habits, and it's not easy.

Rest does not come easy either, especially not to busy, anxiety-prone folks like us.

So we talked about it all. We talked about the weight, the almost tangible weight of our desire to do well in school. We talked about the worry and the desperate need for true mental rest which we both felt.

Then it occurred to me: rest is not a passive thing. Rest doesn't come to us on its own. It doesn't just happen to us.

Rest is a verb.

It's an action which we have to choose to perform. And sometimes, in order to rest our minds, we have to make ourselves unavailable, even if we find it hard to say no.

This is so in line with what I've been going after in my search for a simpler, more minimal life. You hear it all the time in that world - minimize, cut down to the necessities, clear your life of things that don't give you value. The same idea applies to your schedule, your mental space.

Hannah and I gave each other a safe, restful space as we walked together, of one mind, to see the incredible gift of moving water.

We found the waterfall. It was spectacular. I did a daredevil stunt by walking across a fallen log (there was a good little drop underneath). Then Hannah one-upped me by suggesting that we rock-climb our way up the sheer cliffside in order to get back to the trail and cut about 30 minutes off our return hike. So I lost that contest pretty quick!

Thank you, friend, for a lovely day and a heart-to-heart.