I told them everything, because they were four women with gray hair and strong bodies on a ridgeline in Maine. With the same satisfaction you get when you spot a recycling basket on the block and go directly to it, because that’s where the thing in your hand goes. I learned myself, as I told them.
“I’m so happy.” I said, in response to how I didn’t look like the average north-bounder. “I hiked this 10 years ago.”
“How does this feel the second time?” asked one of the loving women.
“Amazing!” and I mean it earnestly. This is not blowing smoke, and all five of us know it. These four women are watching me like the 11 o’clock number of a powerful musical.
“What is it about this time?” another one asks.
“It’s being 10 years older. I was rushed and unhappy; mad at the rain, grumpy about the mud, ticked at the rocks. I was taking it personally, like these obstacles were in my way, between me and what I wanted. Now I get it. This is the show. Now, I just…(I take a deep breath and they don’t try to fill it in for me) surrender.”
Like four mothers, they smile at me with their eyes. With warmth and gladness. With yes.
georgiatomaine 
One ā okay, yet another ā of your loveliest posts. Interesting how your experience changed with attitude! Happy those women could meet you and you could benefit from meeting them too! A delightful memory!
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