Somewhere between Seattle and Skokomish, between the caffeine kicking in and the caffeine propelling me into an anxious spiral, between the backseat and the beauty of tHe GrEaT oUtDooRs, I finally mustered the courage to ask:

“But like…why?”

It was 7 a.m., and my sister, her husband, and I were already two hours into our drive to Olympia National Park for a hike that would take a third of the time it took to get there and back.

As a city dweller whose idea of “roughing it” is a hotel with spotty Wi-Fi, who pays nearly $200 a month for the pleasure of an Orangetheory coach (lovingly) yelling at me to keep rowing or go up a weight class, I kinda didn’t understand the point of hiking.

Nature, I figured, but was it something else?

Turns out, no. 

The point isn’t moving your body or burning calories, or getting from Point A to Point B. 

The point is just…being out there:
🌲 Insignificant, dwarfed by the wildness, moss, and trees
🌲 Air cool, humid, and still
🌲 A river roaring just out of view
🌲 Eyes peeled for creatures great and small

Back to my yelling coach: I’ve been pushing harder than necessary during my workouts lately, and my post-op knee loudly protests (with an angry, inflamed sesamoid in the opposite food marching just behind).

I wasn’t sure the “being out there” would be worth the “being in my deteriorating body.”

I held my breath as we left the road and descended into the forest. The first 10 minutes were tearful, fearful my leg would just give up.

Then I looked up and exhaled.

It was worth it, Paige. Just like Holly said.

Dammit. This older sister is not eager to admit she was wrong.

We do plenty in business that doesn’t directly yield sales.

💕 We send emails every week.
💕 We post to our social media accounts.
💕 We write blogs with valuable information — but no direct calls to action.
💕 We drop notes to lost prospects when we see something that brings them to mind.

We do it just to do it. To be consistent. To build relationships. To grow along our own paths.

Yeah: It’s about the journey.

By the way 👆

When a tree falls in Olympia National Forest — even if there’s no one there to hear it — it can support new life as it decays. It’s called a nurse log. Seedlings actually grow over the fallen trunk and become thriving trees thanks to the rich environment created by the nurse’s deterioration.

So remember that even when you think your efforts have fallen flat, you could be supporting new growth. Keep going. Nurse those relationships. Wait to see what roots, even if it takes a while.