In 2018 I was invited to join a group of friends to climb Cloud’s Rest in Yosemite. Being an invitee, I was not in charge of any of the specifics. The dates were chosen, the accommodations were outlined, and the well-planned itinerary was passed along. Also included was an articulate list of highly suggested essentials.

The first thing I did was begin my research.

“It wouldn’t require special talent to wind up dead by falling off, so it’s best to visit Cloud’s Rest sober.” It also referenced - and, yes, these quotes are directly from the Yosemite National Park website - the “underpants imperiling knife edge you cross to get there.” And, not to be excluded, “Elevation-wise, Cloud’s Rest is a four-part trail shaped like a staircase, albeit one built by a contractor who was paid in tequila.”

Yikes.

For months leading up to this adventure, we prepared. We did short hikes and long hikes; we hiked in the heat and in the rain. I made sure my backpack was properly fitted and that my poles were the correct height. We went to an REI workshop to receive extra tips and tricks. I bought my headlamp and made sure my hikers had good soles.

I felt prepared and moderately confident to conquer the mountain.

Upon arrival for our weekend, it quickly became apparent that I didn’t quite have all the essentials that were recommended. I hadn’t packed a rain jacket. I didn’t have a first-aid kit. Some travelers had backpacks the size of Texas. Some had emergency blankets. Some had enough food to last three days in the wilderness.

I began to feel a little antsy. I didn’t want to somehow contribute to the overall impact my shortcomings could possibly have on the rest of the group.

It was during this time that my life-long acquaintances, Anxiety, Fear, and Self-Doubt, arrived - they were definitely not invited - to inject their opinions. Our negotiations went quickly as I knew they would refuse to be abandoned. I explained the ground rules: They could come, but they must keep their comments to a whisper and respect my need to do something big.

I took a deep breath and reminded myself that there was no rain in the forecast. I took internal inventory and reassured myself that I had prepared as best I could. I was positive, knowing the company I was with, that there were plenty of emergency supplies among us. If, for some reason, our 15-mile excursion ended up taking three days, I knew whose pack I was going to raid. And I was hopeful, by remaining sober, I would not end up staggering to my demise.

It ended up being a beautiful, life-changing experience that I’ll never forget.

I am recently experiencing a lot of those same feelings.

We have been invited on an adventure, granted, it is not one we signed up for. We are being internally, emotionally, spiritually, financially, and physically challenged.

We are out of our comfort zones, and we are questioning our essentials.

Everyone is having their own personal experience navigating. Everyone’s essentials are unique to them and carefully chosen.

Essential feels blurry right now.

How can we begin to define what essential means as it is specific to each individual and situation?

For me, beyond the basic needs of food, shelter, and water, coupled with knowing my loved ones are safe, there are currently only a few things that I constitute as essential.

Patience. Connectedness. Compassion.

Patience with ourselves and each other. Connectedness to the world as a whole as we are experiencing global commonality. Compassion for our neighbors and the ability to put ourselves in one another’s shoes.

You see, it’s during moments of uncertainty when you are challenged to self-reflect, define your values, and fine-tune your direction and your personal mission. Yes, it can feel messy and uncomfortable, but when you muddle through the chaos, you create space for clarity. By getting rid of nonessential thoughts, items, judgments, and assumptions, you are creating space to receive the substance of life.

We were never guaranteed bliss. We were never guaranteed we would always have everything we thought we needed. We were never guaranteed we wouldn’t fall off the edge.

I invite you to detox from the worriment and negativity. Take note of what is good. Rather than focusing on the emptiness, look at the openness. If Anxiety, Fear and Self-Doubt have invited themselves to accompany you, show them to their seats and let them know they can stay, but that you are the captain in charge of sailing your ship through this storm.

We have been given an opportunity to evaluate the essentials of our lives.

What matters to you? What doesn’t?

What is weighing you down? What is lifting you up?

What is taking up space that is not adding value to your life?

Forget about what everyone else has in their pack. This is your journey. This is your own unique experience. Draft the outline for your personal operations manual.

Then, I invite you to get rid of your nonessentials.

We will not be the same when this is over. History will be marked with before and after. Although some decisions and experiences are out of our control, we do have a choice of what we want to accompany us. We have a choice to let go of old habits, outdated views, and the burdens that drag us down. We need to stop comparing ourselves to others and assuming that everyone else has it all figured out because of what they’ve chosen to travel with on their journey.

It might just end up being a beautiful, life-changing experience that you’ll never forget.