A Perfect Storm

Like passing thunderheads, laden with life giving moisture, energy, and beauty, so to are the people who seem to pass through my life. Like the fleating thuderstorms that tickle the tops of the Rocky Mountains, so to are those who seem to pass through my life. The relationships, friendships, acquantinces, etc, that seem to float into my life just seem to brush the top of my soul. Never penetrating, never staying, and I find myself unable to embrace that which seems to disipate before sufficient lucidity has evolved. I certainly want the closeness found in real, tangible relationships. I sometimes feel as though my past has left scar tissue on my heart. When these relationships approach, their beauty is evident and stunning all at once, yet I find myself donning my proverbial unbrella. Sheltering, protecting if you will, the damaged heart from the impending storm. I look in awe, in amazement at the bedazzling beauty of such a force as it slowly approaches. Slowly such relationships impart their beauty on all that I know, yet like the thunderous storms that blow over my home, they are gone before I have the chance to fully embrace all that they are, or I have retreated to safety to avoid the beauty within these storms. I cower beneath my umbrealla and hunker down in my own internal caves. I know not if this instinct is from the damage suffered in recent times, if it’s some primordial survival instinct come back now that my life is back to being lived as a “single man”, or if it is genuine fear of the storm and all of its elements. One can only wonder why it is we shelter ourselves from things that are truly so beautiful. Why do we duck and run when such a lifeforce of energy and life giving current comes our way?


Much like the monsoon rains here in the Southern Rockies, I have seen my fair share of potential relationships approach my world, only to fall apart before reaching their full potential. Initially I find myself looking on in awe. Wanting to see the light show, hear the thunder, feel the cleansing rain on my face, and feel the freedom giving wind upon my brow. I face these relationships with no umbrella, no rain gear, no tent, no shelter. Just me and the thunderous approach of something wonderful. Yet when it gets closer, when the gift of natural inclination is right upon me, I seem to whip out that umbrella and/or run for cover. Don’t get me wrong, I am far from a coward when it comes to getting to know someone and investing my time and energy “out there” in the thick of it. Feeling it all, experiencing it all, and getting soaked by all that any relationship has to offer. I just know that I have found myself in a place surrounded by impassable mountains. I have intentionally put my heart and soul in a place surrounded by an internal range of mountains, impenetrable and insurmountable. I guess it’s my happy place. A place where I know that the raw and bleeding heart can heal. A place where “this can’t happen to me again”. Maye to some that seems cowardly, but to me it is simple survival.


I’ve watched with unabashed wonder as some of these relationships have developed over the mountains of my heart. I see them coming, and bask in all that they bring. A few have had the potential to become natural disasters, and a few have been nothing but passing storms. I’ve been sheltered (thankfully) from those disasters and have made a concious effort to stay out in the “passing storms” long enough to soak in their lessons and glory. The one or two that have passed through, which have had the potential to be significant, lasting, meaningful, and memorable have thus far found me running for cover. Not wanting to acknowledge the significance of these “great ones” I tend to just go hide out in my mountians and let them pass. Never knowing if this one could be the “hundred year storm”. The one that will change it all. Change the face of the landscape of my heart. Like the monsoon rains, will this be the one to flood the valleys of my heart and wash away all the mud and silt flowing through? Could this be the one to bring the life giving rain to a shattered heart and dried up soul?


I keep telling myself that relationships are like storms. Packed full of excitement and energy, so full of beauty and vollatility, yet so natural and full of wonder. All in all they give life. Without them, we’d all just be dried up deserts, devoid of freshness and grace. I still can’t convince myself to stand out in these storms. I meet someone who I find intriguing, while not actively seeking, and I see the potential therein start to build. I stand and face the wind (if this person truly has my attention) and I watch as the energy builds. The discovery evolves, like the building of cumulonimbus, growing as all the necessary elements come together. Building into something so alive, so fluid, and so beautiful. It’s a rare thing to witness these things within our interactions with others. It’s imperative (in my opinion) that we don’t let these moments pass by like the clouds above. We need to stop and take note, and yet in the thick of it, I typically turn tail and run.


I can feel the energy of these things building. I can stand out there as vulnerable as possible. Fists clenched, eyes open, heart exposed, but time and again my reaction is the same. Cover!!! Find protection within and stay there. This too shall pass. After all, the perfect storm of my life, or what I thought was so, has passed and is but a distant memory. So why risk it all again to go through that? It’s a funny question coming from one who has spent the better half of his life living on the edge. Risking “real” storms at altitude, on some rock face, or in my youth chasing the storms that created the perfect swell. Yet the courage to face this fear has thus far eluded me. Again and again, I push the potential relationship away. I know that a broken heart needs time to heal, yet I am about as resilient as they come. I know down to the core of my soul that I do not want to walk this earth alone, yet I tend to not give the slightest chance to anyone.


I had recently resolved to spend my days in the comfort of the valley’s surrounding me. I have continually repeated my mantra, allowed the internal dialogue that says “all things are impermanent so why risk it”. It’s a battle with the elements that I know not how to win. I know that the things that are constant, real, and tangible in my life are the things that are here now. My kids, my climbing, and my fighting. These are the things that make up my world. For better or worse, these are the tools in my quiver that have allowed me to keep on keepin on. I tell myself continuously that to rely on none but ourselves is the only way that I can avoid the disaster that can push you to the brink of destruction. I am slowly evolving in this process. While hanging onto these thoughts and beliefs, I know that I have let some pretty spectacular people pass right through my life. I cowered under the shelter of my own cowardice. Mr. Risk Taker has cowered selfishly below the protection of the walls around his heart. I know I cannot continue to live in this internal isolation. I also hear the voices all around who (very commically) state that “you’re just not ready”. To ANYONE uttering such nonsense, I can only say – what makes you the expert. We are all different. Every heart is hurt in this life, and every heart heals, and yet none do so at the same speed. I find it laughable and always want to ask for (from the experts) the date when I’ll be ready. If I had that date I could just get on with my own selfish endeavors until that day comes. I could focus more on training, fighting, and being the best dad possible. No one seems to have the rebutal to that question when I ask.


All this being said – I HAVE begun to peak my head out a little more with each passing day. Like the prairie dog of the plains, I peak out and look around from time to time. I know I can always run back to my “happy place” but I had just recently climbed the walls of my heart, ascended the stunning peaks that surround my soul, just to get some fresh air. Then it happened!!! I felt that wind in my face. The fresh, life giving kind. The wind that grabs your attention and commands you to breathe it in deeper. I dared to glance over those peaks. Tentatively, timidly, and with focused caution. What I see on the horizon is a different kind of storm. What I see approaching is effortless and something I find myself defensless to. The advancing rumble isn’t deafening and scary, rather melodic and soothing. The flashes of light aren’t blinding, but just seem to light up all around. The building energy doesn’t have me grabbing my gear and running. I’m paralyzed by the purity in it. Unlike any previous deluge this one has stripped me of all my defenses. Is it going to pass right over head? Is it going to disipate and fall apart before it’s energy and cleansing, life giving, gift is poured down upon my face? Who knows? All I know is that this one feels different. This one isn’t scary and threatening. This one has the beauty of the hundred year storm. This one has me wondering if I can stand in its path and soak in all that is offered. I don’t feel the tingling in my feet telling me to run. I am not subconsiously retracing my steps up to this point, planning my retreat. I find myself captivated, mesmerized, and in awe at the shear simplicity of it. If it passes me by, if it falls to pieces before it reaches its thunderous crescendo, I will only stand here in wonderment, and face the demons within. Feeling the raindrops on my face. Watching, feeling all it has to offer. I find myself not looking for a cave to hide in. My only thought beyond the approaching storm is my internal dialogue, wondering why is this one so different, and the immediate response that comes from WAY DOWN..saying…”who cares, just enjoy it”. If the valleys below me flood, I guess like Noah I can build an Ark and sail away. I see the beauty as it pours in all around me, in all that I do, and I work to disipate the fear within. I know that my safety is within, self reliant and self sufficient, yet I also know that it takes both sunshine, and rain to make a rainbow. Without the storms of this life our souls would be but a baren landscape devoid of life. Without the courage to stand before the power of nature, and natural selection, the brevity of this life would be much to frightening to face. There comes a time when we all must crawl from the sanctuary within and put ourselves out there. Many times, on many climbs, many routes, and during many storms I have had to rely on the compass within…sometimes you just have to point it north and let it guide you. Sometimes you have to come out from under that umbrella. Maybe this is my time, maybe it’s not, but I won’t find out if I stay within the safety of the mountains around my heart. I will try harder to not let the storms of my life float by anymore. I will look into them as one would look to lucid dreams for understanding beyond what is typical. Within those lucid dreams, maybe I shall find my perfect storm.