The winds of change come swift and furious. That’s something I learned hiking the White Mountains. Those winds blew right through me. They filled me with courage, awe, and respect. It was my first time out, so I was ill prepared. I borrowed a friend’s backpack and Liz S. lent me her sleeping bag.
I still remember her telling me: “You have to sleep in it naked because it helps keep you warm.” I was doubtful but oddly excited. We packed everything into my friend’s maroon Peugeot station wagon and set out. We stopped shortly before the trailhead for fuel, supplies and to stock up on gear.
We stopped at EMS or Eastern Mountain Standard where I remember buying my favorite wool sweater. It was cream white. It was thick and heavy. It matched my college colors and though I couldn’t afford it, I put it on my newly minted credit card anyway. I figured there was still room to put pizza and beer on the same card next week. You only live once, I thought, as I threw caution to the wind.
Hiking takes perseverance, willpower, but mostly preparation. What you’re not ready for will take practice and experience to overcome.
Like last week’s elections, the winds of change can chart a new path. For those on the journey, preparation and skill are important. But more crucial will be their willingness and fortitude to change.
After even a short time, my backpack started to feel heavy. It made its way deep into my shoulders. My shoes felt tiresome and clumsy. Even though we were all together and hiking in unison, I also recognized the solitude. Sometimes you’re all alone even amidst a crowd. When we stopped to take a break, we realized that though we were all on the same path, we hiked different trails.
We stopped for the night, and I wrapped myself in my new pullover. Armed with the warmth of my new shield, I felt safe and assured. Until the winds came. Strong and howling. Out of nowhere they came for us. And they will come for you. There is nowhere to go and you cannot hide. The wind took my hat. I ran after it, but it disappeared. It was my favorite hat and I took it with me everywhere I went. It was as if the wind replaced my old comforts with a new one. For a moment I was lost. After some time, the winds quieted down. Just as quickly as they came, peace blanketed our camp.
Elections feel the same. They bring new thoughts and ideas. Old ones disappear. Times feel different. There is still fragility in the air.
Strength and power doesn’t come from above. It comes from between. It comes from below. And it comes when you least expect it. No matter how prepared you may feel. No matter how much you think you are ready to face it, winds are born to blow. They are meant for destruction and disruption and we are but collateral damage. Friendships and politics are all up for grabs when the winds blow. Some forces are not meant to be contained.
I ask the forces that be to give fresh breath to the currently elected officials. Give them wings, energy and life to choose the right path for our city. They are surrounded by well-wishers and pioneers who helped get them elected. We must turn in our campaign signs for individuals and allow the elected officials to do their work as a collective whole. Our city depends on it.
Javier Sanchez is an El Rito Media columnist, former Española mayor and a restaurant owner.