It can always be done

Dawn Klemann
Published: March 18, 2008

Have you ever headed out without knowing where you're going- 

 It's such a different experience from what I'm used to. But I find that the longer the journey, the more difficult it is to know which road to take. 

In preparation for the breast cancer walk, they tell you to start out small.

First it was six miles, then eight, then 10 and now 12.

Well, it makes sense. It's a process. Each mile prepares me for the next mile.

It has gotten easier, but I lost my nerve when I hit the 12-mile mark.

I thought it was the aches and pains that I was worried about, but surprisingly, it wasn't that. It was the fact that I didn't know where I would end up. Can you believe that- It's like being afraid of the dark. I thought I was too old for that!
I believed, up to a point. But suddenly I didn't have enough time for this.

Suddenly, my ankles hurt.

Suddenly, I knew it was too much money to have to raise.
It became too much to ask. I became unwilling. I stood still for two weeks. Actually, I went backwards. It just felt like it was too soon to have to go so far.

Then it happened.

My son reached into his pocket, extended his hand and said, "Mommy, I have some extra luck in my pocket, do you want some-"

See, kids mess it all up. They deny you your chance to justify away for yourself what we require them to do every day. They believe in the unbe-lievable.

They have no choice because they lack the previous experience to know any better. All they have is us. All they can do is trust that we wouldn't steer them wrong.

He had already used up his luck that morning getting him, his dad and his sister out the door.

Then on the way home, he found just a little more to share with a stranger he noticed sitting on a step outside the car window. And now, somewhere between the clumps of play-doh and lint, he found just enough for his momma to get over herself.

Now what can I say to that- I had no choice but to believe that I could do it, no matter where I ended up.

I resisted it at first. I was tired and frustrated as I headed out the door that morning. I didn't know what I would find along the way, but I had a granola bar, an apple and a carrot to get me through. What more could I need- Oh, I also had my pepper spray, just in case. Thank goodness, too, because a stranger did pull up beside me. But instead of the danger I expected, I found concern in the eyes of a couple asking if I was in need of help.

By mile three, I was walking past the stores I had bustled through so many times before. But this time, I was only looking. I didn't want anything. I didn't need anything. It was actually liberating.

By mile six, I was enjoying the walk around Yowell Park; seeing the kids enjoying the new play equipment. I was amazed to realize that I was halfway there.

It wasn't until the ninth mile, after I had walked the length of Culpeper's sidewalks, that I became anxious. I didn't know where I would go now and how I would get to the end. But I decided to ignore myself and call a girlfriend of mine. She talked me home. Before I knew it, I had walked 12.9 miles and was on my front stoop.

It's just amazing what can be accomplished when we forget the goal and instead head out for the sake of the journey.

Once I choose to walk with faith instead of anticipation and fear, I am able to discover not only what is possible, but also how kind, generous and beautiful the possibilities can be.
Of course, a good friend and a little luck don't hurt either.

Dawn Klemann is an independent columnist and
resident of Culpeper. Her column appears every other Wednesday. E-mail