Suddenly, I feel an old friend who has walked with me for years arise. Each one of us has these friends; mine is called self-doubt. I have learned rather than to resist him, to invite him in, welcoming him as a teacher of humility. Together, we continue. The first track, and then the next first track. I am rusty and my eye is out of practice. Even after tracking all day, the pressure of being the lead jams me up. I feel myself go out of my body and into my head. Everything becomes a question. Is that a track? Is that? No, they wouldn’t walk there. Did they go the other way? “Yima, yima, buti.
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