My family’s lineage was recently traced back to the 1100s (the English keep immaculate records). It was discovered that we were from a small Viking village in Dent, England. Dent is now a protected forest land and all of this makes a lot of sense to me.
Sometimes, when I’m on a particularly fun trail or having a hard go of it, I imagine I am a Viking warrior (minus all that raping and pillaging stuff), honoring nature by feeling the energy it offers me so that I can charge on. It always gives me a bit more pep in my step. Undoubtedly, my mind immediately thinks that this, uh, likely violent lineage may be why I became a vegetarian when I was 10 years old and have stuck with it the past 24 (!) years. I must have known I had some things to atone for.