Ruminator

Photo by: Tim Bindner I am addicted to my thoughts. I need to realize I am not just my mind. I am conditioned to think my mind is who I am and that my past defines what I will be forever. Thoughts about myself are my EGO, and my EGO does whatever it needs to do to protect me. My mind is at risk if my thoughts are challenged or proven wrong.  When challenged or proven wrong, my identity is broken and I become angry or defensive. By understanding I am not my thoughts, I can detach myself from the limits of my EGO. My true self incorporates my mind, but my mind is not my sole existence. I am learning to separate myself from my thoughts after only listening to them.  I must observe my thoughts, don’t judge them (a thinking act), acknowledge them, and let them pass. “ The beginning of freedom is the realization that you are not “the thinker.” The moment you start watching the thinker, a higher level of consciousness becomes activated. You then begin to realize that there is a vast realm of

Photo by: Tim Bindner It is good to be in someone’s thoughts.  I recently received a message out of the blue from my good friend Michael.  A simple message.  A quote, actually.  But gracious none the less. John Muir once wrote, “ I don’t like either the word [hike] or the thing. People ought to saunter in the mountains – not ‘hike!’ Do you know the origin of that word saunter? It’s a beautiful word. Away back in the middle ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going they would reply, ‘A la sainte terre’, ‘To the Holy Land.’ And so they became known as sainte-terre-ers or saunterers. Now these mountains are our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter through them reverently, not ‘hike’ through them. ” What does this mean to me?  Well, it is really the way I approach hiking.  I know people who try to get certain miles in, or a certain amount of steps, or even a certain time.  Heck, I recently re

Photo by: Tim Bindner With the notes from our tour guide in hand, we headed for the ocean for a few day’s trip. Well, it wasn’t exactly the ocean, but man, it sure looked like it. My wife and I left southern Indiana the day before our 21 st wedding anniversary and made the 4.5 hour trip to northern Indiana. Our destination was the Indiana Dunes. The trip took us up Interstate 65, past Indianapolis, Lafayette (where we grabbed lunch and gas) and eventually to Merrillville. This was our first agenda item provided by my unofficial tour guide, Mark. This little town is nothing special, but it has one gem Mark persuaded me to visit. The Albanese Candy Store. I was told many times “You have to stop” and was even told if I didn’t I would get “an F on Mark’s travel tour guide class”. With that kind of pressure, I had no choice. Might I say this place is outstanding with so many sugary delicious treats. After arriving at the hotel, unloading and checking in, we quickly departed for one of the

The state of the world today is insane.  People, whether they admit it or deny it, are drawn to anger and hate instead of compassion and love. Society empowers us to hate, voice or dislike of others’ thoughts and feelings.  Society entitles us to be offended and let others know about it.  This reminded me of something I heard from Paul Harvey when I was younger.  For you kids out there, look him up.  He wrote this essay in 1965, but it is so eerily true in today’s environment.  His essay is titled “If I Were the Devil.” “ If I were the devil … If I were the Prince of Darkness, I’d want to engulf the whole world in darkness. And I’d have a third of its real estate, and four-fifths of its population, but I wouldn’t be happy until I had seized the ripest apple on the tree — Thee. So I’d set about however necessary to take over the United States. I’d subvert the churches first — I’d begin with a campaign of whispers. With the wisdom of a serpent, I would whisper to you as I whispered to Ev

Photo by: Tim Bindner Photography I have been watching many videos on YouTube from various hikers.  Whether they are hiking the Pacific Coast Trail, Appalachian Trail, or thousands of other trails, I have found one simple thing in common.  They give each person who hikes on these trails a trail name.  It is not one chosen by the hiker themselves but given to them.  As explained in this article they can give a trail name for almost any reason.  A hiker’s look, tendencies, something they did or said, how they walk, what they eat, almost anything.  This got me thinking, what would my trail name be?  As is customary I cannot give myself a name so I timidly reached out to my buddy Mark (a. k. a. Deermark), for a name. A trail name can be given to anyone who has hiked one of the major trails.  It does not involve completion of the trail, only that I hiked on it.  Since I have hiked a minute part of the Appalachian Trail a few times, I qualify for a trail name. As my anticipation mounted, an

Photo by: Tim Bindner Photography I want to reveal something personal to you.  I am a dendrophile.  Now before you go calling the police, let me explain what a dendrophile is.  The purist definition is a person who loves trees, forests. My love for trees began at a young age when I was part of a local 4-H club in Louisville, Kentucky.  Part of a project was for a small group of kids to plant a tree, or in my case, a few trees.  Digging the hole, removing the dirt, placing the tree and roots in the ground and covering it back up all were very satisfactory to me.  I was one of a few responsible for watering the trees close to my house and reporting back on their progress.  I can only remember one tree that I planted and when I drive by it I see how much it has grown.  A maple tree that stood 4+ feet when I was a kid is now healthy and over 50+ feet tall.  I drive my wife crazy because every time we pass it I say “I planted that tree!”  She knows, but to me it was a thing I did as a kid t

Photo by: Tim Bindner I recently reached out to a friend, Michael, and was checking on him.  Michael often wrote a blog while working and partly inspired me to write.  I noticed in reviewing his blog it had been one year since he wrote, so I was reaching out to remind him.  His response was simple.   To paraphrase he wrote his blog based on his work experiences and now that he is retired, “ I am mostly content and I am enjoying my simple life. ” He then sent me a quote from Alan Watts that stated, “ The meaning of life is just to be alive.  It is so plain and so obvious and so simple.  And yet, everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond themselves. ” Michael followed that with words of his own, “ Why do we feel we all must accomplish great things?  Just live your life… ”. This got me thinking.  I have mentioned in many blogs of friends that want the house with the white picket fence, or the trophy mate, or the job title.  Others show th

Photo by: Tim Bindner It is Sunday afternoon, and I have just completed three hikes over the course of three days.  Two were with Mark and one was solo.  I learned some things about myself, and I learned that I missed this way too much. Friday I met Mark at Lapping Park.  We spent some time hiking over 2 miles through dense wooded areas, along Silver Creek, through bamboo forests and up and down hills on the trails.  We even made our own trail up a dry creek bed. It was still early fall, but the hints of colors showed on the trees and leaves below my feet.  We didn’t hike far or fast, but we enjoyed each other’s company.  The hike concluded, and we both sat on a bench for 30+ minutes talking.  Nothing earth shattering, but satisfying none the less. Saturday I took the first solo hike of the season.  I arrived at Mt. St. Francis early in the morning and took my usual route.  I headed down the path to the lake, around the lake and up the hill.  The mist coming off the lake provided me wi