2020: Things Are Looking Up

Happy New Year 2020!

Photo from our 5th annual New Year's Day hike on Saddle Mountain, for NW Wilderness

I'm starting Garth's Blog clean this year, moving all the 2019 posts to my private blog*. Even my 2019 adventure and travel blog posts and unfiltered late-night tweets are hitting the cutting room floor.

Things are looking up. I'm healing, getting stronger, breaking the chains, leaning on my faith in Jesus, practicing self-care, and moving forward to a brighter future. When you see me on a mountain or on the trail looking happy, I'm (usually) not faking it. It's genuine.

I've been learning and experimenting with tools that have been enormously helpful in dealing with depression and insomnia. Examples: Meditation (shout out to my two favorite apps, the Calm meditation app and the Christ-centered Abide meditation and prayer app) and keeping an ultra-minimalist Bullet Journal are now daily habits. Weightlifting and the outdoor events I organize for NW Wilderness also help clear my mind… As do my visits with naturopathic therapist Dr. Carol Zamarra… As well as love from family, friends, and church family… And many more good things I could enthusiastically list.

Hit me up publicly or privately if you’d like to hear more in a future blog post. It could cover additional things that have helped me, as well as offer a look at what a journey towards wellness might look like. I'm still learning, as we all are. Otherwise, it's back to blogging book reviews and travel adventures.

Though if you are hurting, just know that there is hope. I'm with you, and I'm on your side. The 2020s have the potential to be your best decade yet.

Next on Garth’s Blog:
My Top 10 Favorite Books of 2019!

*I wanted to end that on a positive note, so I buried this footnote way down here. Many of those raw “in the moment” blog posts from 2019 gave non-constructive language to my struggles with depression, insomnia, and hurt… Primarily triggered (but not caused) by two specific failures: One in a friendship, and the other regarding state-related ministry. Trying to live with being unforgiven for both of these failures is still a struggle for which I ask prayer and support. I am still prayerfully and mindfully working though these two issues. Things will continue to get better. I believe it. 🌞

A Halloween ghosting: A haunting tale of depression

Trigger warning: Despite the spooky, festive title, this post is actually a recap of the darkest, longest bout of depression in my entire life (so far). There is plenty of thankfulness and hope in my heart as I look back at this experience. But if you're looking for some light, fun reading, skip to one of my other posts. There is a silver lining in every situation. Cheers!


Ghosting (goh-sting): the practice of suddenly ending all contact with a person without explanation

Inspired by today's Halloween Dictionary.com word of the day, ghosting (certainly not in the romantic sense, as it's defined there), I'm recalling one of the times I was ghosted by one of my random adventure buddies.  Though not her fault in any way, it sent sent me into a spiral of depression that, quite literally, nearly cost me my life.

I'm simplifying this story for brevity, but it more or less started with a Mount St. Helens climb. A few years ago, a buddy from Roseburg had been asking for months to replace our climb plans that fell through when she got injured. She sounded so enthusiastic about climbing a mountain with me... Or even just hiking something. And incidentally, I was getting more interested in technical mountain climbs myself. She suggested all these cool routes we could try. As a people pleaser (yes, to a fault), I couldn't bear to let her down.

Some time later, she abruptly stopped returning my messages. No reason was given, and no "Nah, I changed my mind" or "Oops, we missed our weather window" was hinted at.  Just silence. No responses.

A person without depression would've shrugged this off (as I would now as well, had it happened more recently). But tragically, at the time I didn't have the basic coping skills yet to be that person. I spent the next 18 months (lowball estimate) crying, staying awake nearly all night for days/weeks/MONTHS on end, scrutinizing every hike we had taken for a navigational blunder, replaying every conversation for something I may have said wrong, rereading/wincing over every Facebook message I had ever sent to this person, and drafting even more awkward messages to send. I beat myself up day and night.

It became a self-defeating cycle. The worse the pain of depression from the ghosting grew, the more desperate and emotional my messages became.  And the more messages I sent, the more I hated myself for sending overly emotional messages that I wished I could unsend. Why, oh why, can't Facebook have an unsend button?, I agonized. I was crippled by depression, and, even more sleep-robbing, super embarrassed that it took me so long to curb my efforts to reach out.

Had I done something wrong to deserve a ghosting, I wondered? Possibly. When I had met her for a day trip in Verona, Italy (Yep, I still hook up with buddies overseas often), I was living off extreme sleep deprivation like no man has ever encountered. I must have been an incoherent zombie.  I slept for a record 13+ hours (!) when I left Verona that night to hook up with my next round of buddies in Venice.

Had I said something wrong to deserve a ghosting, I wondered? Probably. Again, as the pain of depression stabbed me in the chest every night until 3:30 a.m., I definitely began to type some sappy, regrettable stuff that I didn't even mean.  But the pain was so crushing. Every month that passed, I plotted to end my life. I never even thought about that friend, or the ghosting, anymore...

It became completely about me, and what I might have done wrong. I was no longer myself.

Would I ever get closure as to why I got ghosted, I wondered? A quick, "Oops, I never got back to you" or standard-issue "Hope you're doing well" message? No. And again, a non-depressed person would never have been so devastated by a casual friend doing that, anyway. It shouldn't have been a big deal. She probably just forgot. But due to my depression working overtime, I couldn't live without hearing a "everything is cool" reassurance from an otherwise casual, only occasionally thought of adventure buddy.


Thankfully, at what would have been the final hours of my life, God sent me a dear friend who would help me put all of this in perspective: How depression distorts reality, how I am worth being friends with (and being alive), etc... But that's a story for another day, with a happier outcome.

Am I upset at the bummer friend who did the ghosting? Of course not. Social media connects us with more friends than we could ever keep track of. Too many amazing friends, too little time. And it's impossible to know who may be struggling with occasional mental health issues.

I'm thankful for every person I've ever known. No exceptions. Every friend I've ever had is amazing, just the way they are. There are no former friends.

My prayer is that I will be the best friend I can be, to everyone who needs one. Everyone is special. And everyone needs to know that they are loved, cared for, and appreciated.

Happy Halloween, friends!

That's me in the red shirt, paying tribute to the late Burt Reynolds with my '80s mustache and "Smokey and the Bandit" costume.

An Instagram pic from my annual Halloween costume hike I led last Saturday)

From tonight's Instagram Story: A mostly Star Wars-themed night of trick-or-treating

Venting about the U.S. Presidential election

Photo from my Instagram Story last night:  My Jeep at the polls

America voted yesterday.  Despite Hillary Clinton winning more popular votes, Donald Trump won the electoral college... And on January 20, 2017, Trump will be inaugurated as our next President of the United States.

Photo credit: https://psmag.com/trump-vs-clinton-fighting-the-national-debt-ef127b9f5be6#.icgwa3p49

While I won't explicitly share on Garth's Blog how I voted, it's easy math: I voted for the Presidential candidate whom I thought had the best chance of stopping the LEAST MORAL/ MOST UNQUALIFIED candidate from winning (though none of the major candidates could claim much of a moral high ground).


Specifically, my conscience wouldn't allow me to vote for a man who...

...Is endorsed by the KKK, degrades women and graphically boasts about sexually assault, makes fun of disabled people, categorizes Mexicans as drug dealers and rapists, pushes for a ban on Muslims, racially stereotypes POCs and inner city residents interchangeably, threatens to abolish relationships with our international allies, disregards the validity of the democratic voting process/ peaceful transfer of Presidential power, changes his position on abortion out of political convenience, wants to deport every undocumented alien without offering any hope for a path to citizenship, cited "Eye for an eye" as a favorite Bible verse, and doesn't even read books.

Note: I have sources for each of the above.  But the list goes on and on.

Continued below, after a couple of my tweets...

Scripture was quoted by both Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine in their concession speeches.

Trump's Scripture quote?  "Eye for an eye."

— Garth Hamilton (@garth_hamilton) November 9, 2016

@kathleenRose70 Ha! Funny that the only Scripture which Trump could quote was the verse Jesus refuted.

— Garth Hamilton (@garth_hamilton) November 9, 2016

For me personally, last night seemed like a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from (or fall asleep to escape). I was shocked, discouraged, and depressed as the results of each state's votes were gradually reported live by the equally stunned cable news anchors. I wept for this country. I barely slept. And I continued to feel ill today, throughout my work shift at Delta Airlines.

Photo from my Instagram Story:  This morning's Delta breakroom was a mix of tears and cheers.

How could this have happened? My own loved ones may be direly affected by Trump's worldview and proposed policies. Woman and minorities may continue to be dismissed as second class citizens. And the United States may cut ourselves off from the nations that we should be reaching out to in cooperation for ending war, genocide, human trafficking, environmental neglect, hunger, and poverty.


Yet I do not look down upon nor judge any of my family and friends who voted differently than I did. We are all Americans.  Countless veterans have fought and died for our liberties, including choosing who will represent us in government.  And I am thankful for these freedoms.

Tonight in my youth group teaching, I challenged my students to support candidates whose lives look the most like Jesus Christ (Without even hinting about which Presidential candidate I voted for last night). I will be lifting up President-elect Trump in my prayers. I have hope for the future of this country, and for our world. And I am encouraged by the assurance that God still reigns on His throne.

Regardless of any election results, love and peace will ultimately win!

Fear of the Unknown: Hiking Wahkeena Falls to Larch Mountain

Last weekend's Mount Adams climb was the latest in a series of training climbs before we summit Mount Rainier.

Several new blog posts about those climbs, as well as hiking, surfing, traveling, and a student ministry update are all on the way!

Sometimes good hikes go bad. And sometimes bad titles happen to good blog posts.

Both scenarios came into play for Shaun's and my disastrous hike up Larch Mountain via the Wahkeena Falls trail, briefly mentioned in last month's "Best of 2014 all-new hiking photos" post (link).

Here's the whole story of that lingeringly painful (for me) and terrifying (for Shaun) day:

Our hike/trail run up Larch Mountain in late spring didn't need to spiral into an 18+ mile hike/scramble.  But multiple trail closures near Multnomah Falls left us with limited options, especially later when a crucial "Trail Closed" sign had gone missing for our return route.


The approach to Larch via the Wahkeena Falls trail adds miles.  But even with Sheamus the Energizer Bunny/Dog running along with us, we made up plenty of time with a breathless pace.


Wet weather during our hike/run up from the lower elevations...

...Eventually turned to snow, fog, and high winds as we neared the top.

Fingers freezing*, we were in a tremendous hurry to run back down from the top of Larch. Unfortunately, we hurried too tremendously to avoid a couple of missteps on our alternate route down:


Bad idea #1: Blowing through trail intersections at full speed without slowing down to process the signs

Bad idea #2: Taking turns navigating (as opposed to BOTH trail runners paying attention), based on whomever happens to be taking the lead at the time


Loyal Garth's Blog readers may remember that this is the second time in 15 years or so that Shaun and I have missed or overshot a trail junction, as we did last year near Munra Point.

I'll never tell which of us happened to be "navigating" this time when we ran off course.  But when I finally realized where we were, I was admittedly responsible for THIS doozy:


Bad idea #3: Turning onto a familiar trail which, we discovered later, was missing its well deserved "Trail Closed" warning sign

*If a certain hiking buddy is reading this, Shaun is gonna need those gloves back that I left in your car after our recent Dog Mountain hike.  Pretty please?

The Fear of the Unknown

This once-popular trail (name withheld, to prevent copycat hikers from getting fined by the US Forest Service) didn't start out so bad.   But soon, we were pushing, climbing, ducking, and hopping our way through the increasingly overgrown segments.  We began to question whether or not the path was still legit.



And then the trail completely dropped out.   We rounded a corner to encounter a cliff where the trail used to be.  Shaun, normally as brave and occasionally reckless on the trails as I am, froze up.

"All I can see is death," Shaun replied to my optimistic suggestion that there MUST be a way to cross the chasm in front of us.

Shaun continued to object, "There's just a giant broken staircase, crashed over on its side. Who knows what is beyond that?   Another drop-off?  A bigger cliff?"

For once in our long history of crazy adventuring together, my favorite hiking buddy was paralyzed by the fear of the unknown.   And we were both especially concerned about the safety of his dog, Sheamus.



The drop-off didn't seem as severe in my eyes, though.  I volunteered to scramble down solo for a recon mission, to convince everyone that the route was doable.

I captured and Tweeted this pic of Shaun and Sheamus, standing on top of the cliff, as I climbed down.

The terrain below wasn't anywhere near as treacherous as imagined.  As I hollered my findings back up to Shaun, his facial expression morphed from fear into skepticism, and finally into relief.

I whispered a prayer as Sheamus bounded over the edge and down the various levels of slope, with Shaun sliding down after him.  No problems, as predicted.

Maneuvering a surreal section of the washed out trail

But not all of us walked away unscathed.  Sheamus accidentally set off a rock fall from the broken trail above me.  I dodged as many of those rocks as possible.  Some of the stones bounced off of me harmlessly, though the biggest rock landed directly on top of my left foot.

I didn't realize how badly my foot was injured (making a huge dent in this summer's hikes, climbs, and surfing) until my first step onto hard pavement at the end of the day. Incidentally, this was also the moment where we finally encountered the only remaining "Trail Closed" sign... as we exited onto the return trail towards my Jeep Wrangler.

My overly dramatic pole vault back onto the main trail (with that useless "Trail Closed" exit sign posted on the right)

**********

On our drive home from the Gorge, Shaun thanked me for talking him down from that ledge, literally.  It was a rare moment of paralyzing fear, and he was relieved that someone was there to snap him out of it.  Had we turned back at that late hour, we all would've been stuck on that trail until well after dark. Not to mention, his plan to use the closed (also due to damage) Benson Bridge as an escape route could have incurred a steep fine.


Sometimes the scariest things in life are the things we can't see.  Our imaginations can either create reasons for us to be afraid, or illuminate new ways to move us forward.   And on this eventful day in April, there was no reason to fear.

Break Every Chain

Garth's Blog is on a one-month hiatus from Dec 15- Jan 15.  The holidays have been busy, and our baby boy is due on January 10!  To kill time until then, the short New Years update below is followed by a personal "share" from my other blog.

I'll update my Twitter occasionally, and we'll return with new blog content in mid-January. Check back on January 15 as we resume with all new family updates and recent overseas adventures!

New Year's Eve at McMenamins Cornelius Pass Roadhouse/ Imbrie Hall:
Lena stopped smiling just long enough for a quick photo.

Happy New Year!  Our family had fun celebrating New Year's Eve last night. And this year, we actually got home in time to witness our neighborhood loudly deteriorate into a war zone around 11:30 p.m.  It's hard to imagine any of those firecrackers/mortars/rockets/shotgun blasts(?) being legal within Beaverton city limits.


Our block hadn't heard such deafening blasts since all four news networks were falsely tipped off about explosions from within our neighborhood Intel campus. As terrifying as that sounds, the "explosions" heard from neighbors blocks away were actually the results of a fire at a garbage truck yard next door.

The link to the story of me ending up in front of all those TV news cameras is here: Garth's Blog: Having a Blast at Home.

**********

Today's entry below is a "share" from one of my other blogs. It may look familiar to readers who saw my original post yesterday morning. If this seems more personal and spiritual than a typical "Garth's Blog" post, that's because this wasn't originally intended for a mainstream audience.

But don't worry, new "Garth's Blog" content is coming soon! I'm still gathering photos for upcoming posts about Christmas, surfing, student ministry, pumpkin patches, hiking, and some late 2013 overseas trips.

In the meantime, feel free to check out my Twitter feed or just follow me. My latest Tweets are also embedded on the upper right corner of this blog page.



Here's yesterday's post, "Break Every Chain," from my other blog:

There is power in the name of Jesus
There is power in the name of Jesus
To break every chain, break every chain, break every chain.

Those words from a Jesus Culture "Awakening" event were the soundtrack to my final early morning commute of 2013. Normally, the entire freeway portion of my drive time would be dedicated to prayer. But not today. Not after last night. Sheer exhaustion caused my prayers to stick in my throat... unable to escape my heart. Rather than giving up on morning devotions altogether, I allowed someone else's words to be my prayer instead.

There is power in the name of Jesus
To break every chain.

Leading up to today's uncharacteristically passive time of prayer, this happened:

Our formidably lunged, two year old Lena loudly decided on Saturday night that only having 1 1/2 hours of sleep would be more than enough for me. Sleep quantity didn't increase much these past few nights, either. I've been getting up multiple times to quiet Lena down, attempting to spare the Mommy-to-be the hassle of putting her back to sleep. Her crying persisted into the night, until a couple hours before my alarm rang.

There is power in the name of Jesus
To break every chain.

I've often prayed such a prayer in more obvious contexts: as an impassioned plea for healing and wholeness... for freedom from the bondage of sin... for the lifting of a heavy heart... for mending of strained relationships... for finding the grace to forgive friends who take advantage of me... for finding the humility to ask for my own forgiveness.

But today, such a prayer was a simple reaching out for strength, for the divine power to make it through the day. Extreme sleep deprivation stifled my attempt to pray even that, much like sleepless nights can physically throttle my various hikes and trail runs. Yet, like the disciples who got busted for nodding off in the Garden of Gethsemane, I'm yearning for a chance to redeem myself after a lackluster effort in my own garden of prayer.

Taking care of my family, I know in my heart, is more important than taking care of my ZZZs. But in my utter exhaustion, the satisfaction of honoring those priorities doesn't make days like this any easier.

2013 has been a joyous, high energy year that is ending on a brief down note. My own strength has decided to take the week off. It's time for me to draw on God's strength.

There is power in the name of Jesus.

Overbooked

Don't feel duped if you expected this to be a post about getting bumped off of an another overbooked international flight.  All new overseas adventures are coming to "Garth's Blog" very soon!  In 2013, I'll try not to make the same blogging mistake I make each and every year:  waiting so long to blog about my trips that some of my best international blog posts get left out.

The thing that is overbooked is me.  I've been booked to speak three times today... twice at Faith Bible school and again tonight at church.  Gone are the days of getting stressed out about preparing a "Big Church" sermon, youth talk, and commencement speech in the span of an entire bi-vocational week.  Yet, I am grateful (and baffled, frankly, that I was asked) for these opportunities to give inspirational messages.

But delivering three full-length messages in the same day?  In addition to brainstorming for tomorrow's blank slate international trip?  My brain is full.  Clearly, I'll need some extra grace today.  It doesn't help that this has been a heavy week for me... I hurt when those whom I love are hurting, and especially when they attempt to harm themselves.

**********

A post like this would be normally be banished to my other, personal blog site.  However, it felt right to send this out to a wider audience this morning.  The non-spiritual, lighthearted fun will return to "Garth's Blog" next time.

In the meantime, I'm asking that any of you who pray would remember me in prayer today.  And if you're not praying... wait, why aren't you praying?!

Love you all!  Thanks for letting me be real.

P.S. For no reason whatsoever, here is a video clip of Lena trying to act innocent after keeping us awake through most of the night:  

What a cutie!