When we last left off,  it was a stormy night on Mackinaw Island and I was walking on a dark, lonely path with woods on either side.  I should have probably turned back, but for whatever reason, I didn’t.  There were small street lights but they were extremely spread out and in between it was pure darkness.  Occasionally I would come to a fork in the road and have to decide which one was the correct path back to the hotel.  I have to admit, that while I convinced myself that the Island was a very safe place to be, I was extremely frightened and feeling very vulnerable.  

At one point a group of teenage boys on bikes flew over a hill and nearly ran me over—one at a time, because they couldn’t see me until I was right in front of them.  My heart was beating wildly and I found myself nearly frozen in place--but that didn’t seem to be a good answer either.  As I didn’t own a cell phone yet to call and have someone talk me through it, I had to find a way to talk myself through.

I decided that I would take ten steps and then breathe.  Just ten.  So, I walked and I counted.  One…two…thr ee…four…fiv e…six…seven …eight…nine …TEN.  Deep breath.  Ok, now ten more.  For whatever reason, it worked.  My heart stopped racing and I developed a sense of calm.  I had a goal and a plan to achieve it.  I continued in this manner for over a mile and a half—one…two …three—and then I saw them.  The lights to the hotel glowed in the distance and now I was giddy.  When I was nearly there, I heard a horse and carriage coming up behind me—and I marveled at the timing of it all. “Do you want a ride,” the driver asked.  “No.  I’ll walk, thank you.” 

And I finished what I started. 

The following morning was my last day.  When I woke up I realized that I had come to no conclusions and I was filled with a growing sense of frustration and confusion.  I didn’t expect that I would have found all of the answers, but a sense of direction would have been nice.  I took a carriage into town and picked up coffee, a muffin and the paper and walked over to a park-like area and sat down on the grass.  As I was reading the paper, I heard the sound of bagpipes playing a melancholy song and looked up to see a man in full Scottish dress, standing in the early morning fog.

I lay down on the grass, closed my eyes and just listened.  And in that moment, I felt a profound sense of contentment and peace well up inside of me.

A short time later, I began my walk back to the hotel to pack.  Today the path was full of people and in the light of day I almost felt foolish at having been frightened.  Behind me I heard voices speaking in French and I turned to see two young women in maids uniforms.  Like the bagpipe experience earlier, I found myself once again part of something incredibly simple yet memorable and wonderful. And all of a sudden, I burst into tears. 

Not one for public displays and despite all of my efforts, I couldn’t stop crying, all the way back to the hotel. I realized I had found my answer.  Walking along the same path that filled me with such fear the night before, I understood that I had the strength to walk through my fear of the unknown.  I was capable of taking care of myself and that I could survive whatever life threw at me.  At the time, my frame of reference was a divorce; little did I know what else was right around the corner.

When we found out about Ali’s cancer, I remember standing with her at an escalator in the mall that we passed through from the hotel to the clinic.  She was obviously-- and with good reason, panicking from the barrage that had just been thrown at us.  “But, what if…” she kept saying.  “What if I lose my hair?” “What if the chemo doesn’t work…”

Finally I sat her down and re-counted to her my walk through the woods.  “Ten steps at a time, Ali…no more and no less…that is how we are going to get through this.”

For whatever reason, I could tell in her eyes, that this resonated with her and in that moment I saw her will to fight overcome her paralysis from fear. I have told this story before because it changed me.  It was the first step on my path to discovering that I needed to leave fear behind and just be brave.  Sometimes our answers and our strength come from the most unlikely places. When the road is dark and frightening, it is overwhelming to think about how you will get to the other end in one piece. I like to think that Ali counted to ten and jumped into the arms of God.

I am still counting.