A Sea of Silence

I have been a risk taker from birth. I’m quite certain that I brought both parents to the brink of myocardial infarction numerous times as I learned to walk, and more notably, began to climb up on things and see if I could jump off. I have never been good at resting, especially mentally. My mind is a vibrant mess of chaos but I think I’ve done pretty well with that trait. It’s never held me back and in fact I believe it makes me excel and more than anything, it keeps me young. I was once called by one of my professors a “brilliant muli-tasker”. I seem to have embraced the dynamics that lie within me. I don’t really have issues staying on task, I just want to get the task done and get to the next one. I’m not an adrenaline junkie, I just tend to gravitate towards those things that leave the biggest mark on my psyche. I was given this body, this life, and this time, as a gift and I TRULY understand that, and therefore I want to use it, feel it, and live it to its fullest. My sense of adventure goes so far back, probably to the day I was born. I’m always innovating, and looking for ways to better a process. I remember being young and my mom finding a string of French fries tied together in my pocket, and at the end I had tied a little dead frog. I still laugh when she brings it up, but I’m pretty sure there was something completely ingenious about that. I probably thought I could save the world like McGyver…one fry at a time! I was a rambunctious kid ready to tangle, get dirty, jump my cape laden body from any high point, and I mostly just had one speed..GO! I wonder now that I am a parent just how my folks did it.

Being called a “adrenaline junkie” just never clicked with me. I’m a “life junkie” through and through. I want to go until I can’t go anymore. I wanna mix it up, mash it up, spit it out, and just grab life by the horns. The clock is ticking and no one is getting out alive so I guess my whole wiring scheme just tells me to go! Getting hurt is just a part of this mess and to me you can count the life in one’s years by the scars and stories that emblazon their bodies and souls. I’ve got no shortage of those, nor do I think that what I have will be all that I leave this world with. Getting through life’s injuries is just a part of it, but slowing down has been something that I’ve always struggled with. One of my favorite sayings is “you’ll get all the rest you need when you’re dead”. Unfortunately, some of my injuries have been traumatic and life changing. I’m the king of concussions through and through. I’ve taken so many of the aforementioned leaps from high places, only to lose my battle with gravity and consciousness. Add another cognitive recalibration to the program. Yet I cannot fathom the thought of resting on my laurels as this life passes me by. This is me, it’s what I am, and I am what I am.

Taking on this “yoga challenge” seems a paradox to my life, at best, and a true challenge if nothing else. I have to slow my roll to do this. I have to embrace the silence and let my body feel that it is okay to stop my supersonic momentum for a moment, and to relax, be quiet, and to take my body to a place it isn’t too familiar with anymore. I find a quiet in the studio as I work through my practice. In only a short time I have found this space that I knew existed (from my past yoga experience) but I have been reluctant to allow this space to enter my world. I find it fascinating to just sit and listen to the sounds around me as the masses ease into Sukhasana (Easy Pose) my body creaks, cracks, settles, and I find grounding, yet my mind finds the pose anything but “easy”. I’m learning to embrace the silence and to let my body slowly slither down into the earth. I have once again found the peace in that single, simple pose, and I smile slightly as I feel my body slowly releasing, and my mind gently locked in the pugilistic nature that it has so long held on to. I don’t want to “let go” and relax, and yet I persist, listening to the sea of breath around me. I hear the echoes of chaos within slowly fading into the waves of breathing and the subtle sounds of all the bodies coming to a place of rest. I wonder with each breath if anyone else struggles to just sit quietly, and then it comes to me suddenly, silently, it doesn’t matter! This is my place on my mat. This is my time to embrace the silence. It’s my time to let go and prepare my mind for the coming challenge that I will face in the next hour and a half. I’m learning to be unafraid in this space, I’m learning to let my mind go and let it surf upon the waves in this sea of silence. It’s a place I find myself looking forward to now, and yet I know it will take time to fully embrace.

When I’m there silently melting into Sukhasana the byproducts of my busy day dissolve into nothing. At times, depending on where I sit, I can see the candlelight softly flickering through my closed eyes. I love this place, I love the sounds around me, and again, I find myself unafraid. If I gain nothing more from this experience, I am grateful to have found the ability to relax in the silence and to let so much go. As I sit here waiting for tonight’s practice I am craving those minutes of peace. I know my knee is getting better, and I feel less residual pain from my life of abusing this vessel I was given, but I am quickly seeing that there is so much more to this process than just the physical gain. In those minutes in Sukhasana I am awaken by the deafening silence that surrounds me.

The Challenge

My life has always been mercurial at best. Just when I think I have it figured out, it takes a twist, a turn, or a detour that I hadn’t expected. As the years pass I become more and more comfortable with this journey. I don’t need a destination, only a desire to keep the adventure going. The years have been so chocked full of “detours” that I can scarcely remember a time when I didn’t take a side route to get where I was going. Likewise, I can’t imagine another way. I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy, in relation to work and goals. Give me the work and get out of my way. I’ll get there, I’ll figure it out, and I’ll get through in order to get to where I am going. I’ve always been a bit goal oriented and when I make up my mind to do something, to say that I am “driven” can usually seem like a gross understatement. Roadblocks, detours, or any bump in the road, just becomes a part of the journey. As I move through this life I find myself noticing these things more. Not in angst or anger, but in a way where I start to see these things as part of the overall picture. It’s just part of the process and I might as well learn to enjoy these challenges as opposed to whining or letting them stop my forward momentum. In my mind, it is better to take a moment and enjoy the challenge than to simply throw your arms up and quit. I’ve gained so very much from the little detours in my life and I’m quite certain that I would not be who I am today without the struggles, without the curves in the road, without the challenges. If life were easy, it’d be boring.

And so it is that I find myself once again wandering from the path that I have become so accustomed to. I’ve spent the last 4 years going through trials that I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. First a devastating injury from a climbing fall which gave me the opportunity to learn to walk again. That’s right, I said “opportunity” because I learned how fortunate I am to even be able to do so. I endured a brutal divorce only to become a better man, and a better father. I found a way to truly express all the fight and rage that was encompassed within me by returning to my roots, by finding an outlet over the last 4 years, and that outlet has been fighting. Training in the gym, sparring, rollin’…MMA. It too has become a journey but one that I find myself detoured from once again. It has/had become so much of my life that when I recently hurt my knee, I figured it was just another injury that I’d plow through and get back on my road. Where was this road ever taking me? I have no clue, but it has been one heck of a ride. This time is different though. The knee injury is by all accounts pretty serious. I say serious because “not” going into the gym to train, to spar, etc…that’s serious business to me. It’s what I do! So I’ve had to slow my roll once again. I’ve tried going in and “taking it easy” but apparently I’m not good at that. So I’ve had to look at some other opportunities, some different challenges, and some things I can do to keep the fires stoked, and so as I did years ago when I suffered a bad back injury, I have turned again to Yoga.

Yoga isn’t new to me. As I said, I spent a long time, years ago, discovering yoga and delving into it for about a year. I, along with my doctor, were really quite amazed that the difference a dedicated yoga practice made in the rehabilitation of my back injury. I kept to it for a while, but slowly it fell to the wayside as my life transitioned into owning my own guide service, having a full time job, and being a dad. There just didn’t seem to be time for yoga. Jump forward to winter of 2011. I was preparing to go to India, to climb in the Himalayas, and had started to deal with some very serious injuries from all my fighting. My girlfriend had continually hounded me to slow down and listen to my body. Needless to say I didn’t want to listen to her, much less my body. I was on a roll, getting super fit, and fighting better than I ever had before. Martial Arts had a hold on me and had returned to my life in a big way. I fell in love with Muay Thai while still in high school, and had trained hard for about 4 years around that time. My girl was so gentle, and yet so persistant, and yet I was so completely determined to spend all of my time in the gym. Finally I relented just so I could spend some time with her doing what she was so passionate about. I went to a yoga class with her at Yoga Durango.

It felt good, it felt right, as was the case all those years before my body responded. When I got to India I could feel the effects of restarting a practice in yoga. I was much calmer, more limber, more settled, and I felt a tremendous amount of peace. I figured it was 2 parts my yoga practice, and one part the place I was in. So, I came home and continued to go to yoga as much as possible, but once again the fighting took a hold of me. My yoga practice took a back seat to my desire to fight. Now I am unable to get into the gym and train. My girlfriend has watched it all and endured the pain with me. She has been silent witness to the agony both physically and mentally. Her words always kind and gentle, but repeatedly I’d hear her utter the same statement.. “you need yoga”. So last week I relented and went to my favorite class. Candlelight Vinyasa. My friend Amber, simply stated, has an amazing practice and shares it in a very real way. I love her classes and being on Friday nights, after a long week, well that sure doesn’t hurt. As I was checking in to her class she said “you should do the Fall Yoga Challenge”. What is it you ask? Yoga, 4 times a week, for one month along with two group meetings. As my body moved through the poses over the next hour, my mind instantly felt the effects along with my body. I was home. I quickly found the peace in the rhythm, the silence in the asana. My mind was calm. I walked out last night knowing that I had accepted her challenge….

As I stop and read what I’ve written above, I laugh to myself. How cyclical my life can be?! Train hard, get hurt, rest, yoga, repeat. It’s different now. I have a woman by my side who really gets me. She sees right through the façade and seems to see me for all that I am. She sits silently and watches as I put my body through the grind, and then she’s there to help me up (literally) and gently push me to “find my way” and to explore the “other path”. For me yoga is the road less traveled, and yet I find myself here once again embracing that time on my mat. I began the challenge last night with Hot Vinyasa. Have I mentioned my TOTAL disdain for heat? Give me arctic yoga and I’d show up naked and smiling, but I figured if I’m going to accept this “challenge”, this detour, I was going to make the best of it and really step out beyond my comfort zone. As I left class last night, I stepped out onto the street to a stunningly clear, star filled, frigid, rocky mountain sky. The air seemed infused with life, or was it just me? Had I found that peace again? After only an hour? Time will tell, but I am up to this challenge. I am open to what I find there. The challenge to me is to slow down, don’t abuse my body, and realize that being kind to my body may not be such a bad thing. Who knows, maybe this detour is actually the route I am supposed to be on.

Here we go

We are packed and ready to go. Packs are heavy, the sky is overcast, lots of snow, lots of wind, lots of fun. We leave in about 15 minutes. Excitement is bubbling throughout the house. 5 strong climbers and an abundant amount of ambition, experience, and desire. We pray for a safe ascent and an even safer descent. The summit is optional...getting down is mandatory.

Middle Tibet

It took 22 hours of travel to get to this place, and my senses have been on overload ever since we landed, but I am in a place that is not only beautiful, unique, and so full of diversity, but it is a place where so many cultures, religions, and regions come together. It's a virtual melting pot of society. There are western tourist, NGO's, Tibetns, Indians, Buddhist, Muslims, Christians, etc, etc, etc. One thing is for sure, it is a simple life here in "Middle Tibet". Leh is a very vibrant town that truly comes alive if you are just willing to listen and see past what many westerners may see as a dirty, poor, impoverished place. There is SO MUCH culture here as well as a rich history and a landscape painted with the colors of life. The Tibetan prayer flags hang from rooftops, trees, over the market streets, etc. The Buddhist temples look down upon the town and cast a sense of antiquity over this entire valley. As we walked through the market area today, the afternoon prayers could be heard from one of the two mosques in town. The sounds of horns blowing as the drivers weave in and out of foot traffic, dogs (more on that later) and the cows that roam the streets. The smell of incense permeating every corner of the shops we walk into. The sound of "Jule" as you pass complete strangers. It's a simple hello spoken in Ladakhi...passed between friends, colleagues, and complete strangers. The kindness of these people is overwhelming. They don't seem to have the burdens of our modern society. Their lives, while simple, appear to be lived in peace. We could learn something from the myriad cultures here in Leh.
The warnings of "bring your winter gear" were almost scoffed at. I'm from Colorado..the Rockies..I'm tough. At 11,700' above sea level, and sitting directly at the foot of the Himalayas..."cold" is an understatement. Our office/house is typical of this region. build with mud, and old methods, it is stunningly simple, yet beautiful, however you just can't get up and go turn the thermostat to 72 degrees. We have no heat and air. The water just resumed flowing as it is shut off to most during the winter (it is still winter, we got lucky). The power is intermittent and spotty at best. The food is as authentic as you can get and a pure delight (if you like tibetan food). The winds from the Himalayas seem to float over this valley, robbing it with any warmth that may have previously existed. There are "packs" of street dogs all over and I wonder how they survive. Tonight we huddle in our sleeping bags and read, or write in our journals via headlamp and candlelight. We prepare ourselves for the morning when we will go to the SECMOL school to meet our students and prospective guides. We are so blessed to be here, to have this opportunity. I've finally experienced "love at first sight". I'm in love with this place (instantly) and with the incredibly kind people. The adventure is mercurial at best and that is yet another wonderful attribute to this place. You don't need a plan. Each day is a gift and my time here is that and so much more. When I get home, I know I'll be marking the days until October when I return for our next project. Thank you to those who gave their precious money to see this happen. My gratitude cannot be expressed in words, only in our actions and the efforts we put forth. As the Tibetans say - "Thujiche" (Thank You).Jim (IMLI Leh 2012)

International Mountain Leadership Institude - April 2012 - Ladakh/Leh India

On April the 8th 2012 I will fly to Delhi India with an Old friend. He is the founder, and director, of the International Mountain Leadership Institute. We’ve been talking about working together for years. Now we get our chance and in one of the most stunning areas in India. We will spend our time teaching a group of prospective guides rock climbing skills, Leave No Trace ethos, outdoor medical skills, and outdoor leadership skills. It’s a chance to give these students a shot at a better life, and the skills to stay safer when they travel up high. Please read below:



I have NEVER been one to ask for help. I have always “found a way” under the toughest circumstances, and under extreme duress. I pride myself on an iron will and relentless persistence. This trip is the culmination of so many dreams. It’s become a catalyst for so many more dreams. All the training, courses, climbing trips, guiding, etc, have brought me here. I feel in my soul that what I am doing is good, and right. That I will leave my footprints on the hearts of so many on this trip. We have the chance to help these people learn the skills that will not only make them a better living, but will keep them safer up high. The skills to keep one another safer. The nonprofit that I am working with (International Mountain Leadership Institute) has taken the lead in going to far off places and helping like this. Places where most people either dare not go, or just plain don’t find appealing. So I find myself asking you, my friends, family, and colleagues to HELP. It’s amazing what $5, $10, or whatever you can contribute, can do to help this cause. If you know me personally..you know I don’t ask for help, but I’m here asking you to find it in your heart to help make a difference. IMLI is a registered 501c3 nonprofit. Just think..if every single Facebook friend I have gave a dollar…….what a difference that would make. Click the link to donate..and thank you from the bottom of my heart.

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http://www.mountainleadership.org/

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Gravity of the Heart

Much like falling from a chellenging climb, falling for another can often sneak up on you. The pull of gravity signifying the archaic tug that sends you tumbling. When roping up for a difficult climb, it is never my intent to fall. The prospect is always there, and you know that gravity is always lapping at your heels, and yet you defy science and common sense by moving up while clinging to slight imperfections on a stone face. Much like a painters brush stroking a blank canvas, your body dances delicately across that canvas made of stone. Constantly aware of the tangible possibility of a fall, yet you carry on, never without fear but constantly putting it aside, moving upward, focused and in tune with the energy around you. The gravity within our hearts posseses the same power, yet it isn’t often we have the chance to see it in such a raw state. My life on the mend, my mind clear and concise, my gaze focused and fixed, I have trodded along and become someone who I thouroughly enjoy. Along the way I have worked hard to build the walls around my heart. I have made sure to protect myself from the gravity of another heart pulling at mine. I have acknowledged the fear of letting another in, yet I have carried on and done (in my humble opinion) considerably well rebuilding my life, redefining relationships, and keeping it all in check. I’ve built considerable, logical, and tangible walls around my life, but especially around my heart. However absurd it may seem to some, it is/was a necessity for me. A requirement for survival, if you will. While these walls were insurmountable, they were walls which I could peak over, climb over, or look around whenever I saw fit. I could always retreat behind those walls if I felt like someone was getting too close. That, in and of itself, became a byproduct of what was happening around me. I needed a place to go and feel safe, and learn about myself, before I could open up to anyone. As time passed I found that safe haven became all too frequently where I found myself. I just couldn’t connect on a level that made me feel real again, or safe from the pain that could very well lie beyond those walls.



Being one who is fascinated with pugilism on a level beyond mere fists, I have seen the metaphor within this journey as it relates to fighting. Not just the similarity I find with climbing, gravity, and ascention. I see myself (post divorce) backed into a corner and fighting anything that got in the way of where I wanted to go, or anything, or anyone that incroached upon my safe place. I wouldn’t say that I put myself into seclusion or became a recluse. To the contrary I believe my journey has been one of personal satisifaction, grace, and self inquiry, while putting myself out there at the same time. I still bagan to worry as to whether I could open up to anyone again. The instinct to fight off anything unfamiliar, uncomfortable, or threatening is just something that I was born with. My life holds record to the fact that the “easy way” isn’t the path that I typically choose. Much like when I am training or fighting, I become enveloped in the moment. Transfixed on what it is I am facing, then and there, and constantly looking for the calmness within me that allows me to slip the punches of life, weave around my oponent, and strike when the timing is perfect. Timing and range awareness are two fundamentals of fighting that are continually being mastered. You become hyper aware as you settle into your rhythm. Your breathing becomes a metranome to the music around you. The sound of bodies clashing, fists smashing, and the breath of exhaustion that you hear as it emites from your lungs. You are the master of your own destiny. You either fight or you succumb to the litany of damage being sent your way.



So as women have come into my life, I have struggled with the gravitational pull of some fantastic individuals. I have pushed some away. Climbing back into my safety corridor, where I knew self relience was the way. I have backed myself into a corner and just as suddenly found that I just fight my way out. I see the connection coming, and in many cases a connection that had the potential to be something great, but the fear overwhelms me and all I can do is listen to that primordial instinct to get away. I climb myself high above the danger, yet always increasing the danger by going further. I fight and listen, tune into those familiar sounds and instincts. The deep seeded cellular instinct to fight off the danger, or flee (ascend) away from it. It’s become a rhythmic, instinctual, repetitive process. Meet someone, get to know them, like the process, but when they get too close push away and climb away. Repeat!!! It seems the pull, the longing for someone to tell it all to, is a far greater opponant than I had ever imagined. I think I’d have told you (even recently) that I have come to like being on my own. Being single and the master of my soul is a satisfaction that I appreciate.




Relatioinships are a strange new ground for a guy who spent half of his life with a woman that he truly thought he’d get old with someday. Strangely vast and multi layered. Ecclectic and diverse. Fantastic and fun filled, if you let them be, yet indescribably terrifying to a guy who NEVER knew love before his marriage, and ended said marriage overflowing with love. Relationships are like climbing in the sense that it’s an ever progression of movement. You have to get past the imperfections, move by move, to reach the top. You have to put forth the effort and hard work. Gravity will hold you down, but if you master the dance with gravity, you can ascend what had seemed impossible. You can also let go and come plummeting back to where you started. They are like climbing a big mountain. You can’t do it all in one push. You have to move forward in steps. Often going up to reconoiter what is ahead, then returning to a safer camp down lower. You have to make your climb in sections and eventually, if you are lucky and all goes well, you’ll reach the ultimate goal. Relationships are also much like fighting, and TOO OFTEN for some, they “are” fighting. Like facing an oponent who is trying to inflict harm, and impose his will, you have to pay attention and find a place within where you can do what you must to survive. When you get past the pain, shock, and terror of taking such unatural damage to your being, you can actually relax in that environment and find a way to move within that situation. To gain a place where you are in tune with the movements of your oponent. Not that relationships are about fighting, impossing your will, or inflicting damage, but even the most beautiful of relationships will see such moments. You learn to endure and survive what you think you cannot take. Once through these moments, and once you become more in tune, more self disciplined, you realize the unforseen beauty in the process. I think part of the process in relationships, fighting, and climbing, is fundamentally realizing that you can be, and often are, your own worst enemy. You have to learn to stop fighting what is natural. You must learn to survive if you want to get to that magical place you seek. You must learn to listen deeply to your instincts in order to accept the fact that you are going to get hit..and you will survive.



I have spent the last 16 months fighting, both figuratively and literally. At the same time I have faced battles with gravity. Climbing harder than I have in recent memory. I’ve let go of the fear of falling, at least in climbing. I’ve learned to listen to what is inside as I face an oponent in the gym. I’ve learned to accept my fate (it’s gonna hurt and I’m gonna take damage) while fighting. I’ve been unafraid to tie into a partner and do that delicate dance over stone. All the while I’ve been horrifically petrified of letting those same things (metaphorically) into my life when it comes to women. I’ve met some amazing ladies, and have had the privelage to really sit and get to know many, yet I find myself back within my walls time and again. I guess like the lesson in fighting – range is everything. Stay just far enough out of the “pocket” and you won’t get hit. Step within range only when YOU are ready. I’ve bided my time outside of range when it comes to relationships, however like climbing and/or fighting, everything can change in a moment. The gravity of your heart can bring you crashing into the life of someone who has stepped into your range.




In a moment I found my life changed forever. Now everyone calm down! Just listen and read as often as you need to in order to get this. I’m not running off and getting married. I’ve found myself standing, once again, in territory that has scared me EVERY SINGLE time I have found myself there. Not just scared in the post marriage world, but pre marriage as well. I never was one to let people in close; it just happened that my ex was able to find a way around my walls. In a moment, unforseen, unexpected, and unlikely, someone has come along and slowly, methodically begun to tear those walls. Before I knew it I was standing before her exposed, raw, and real, yet scared. Not once has she allowed me to begin the rebuilding process of those walls. Watching as the shaking ensues, the backing away and putting up my fists (figuratively of course). She has stood there and just watched; waiting for me to calm down enough to see that she isn’t running away. She’s calmly touched my soul and shown me that it “IS” okay to allow someone so close. It’s okay to be in that pocket and be that close to someone. I’ve stood before her, scared and on the run, yet she has been unwavering in her composure and understanding. Suddenly I look around and gravity isn’t such a scary thing. The safety I feel in her presence is astounding. Like the belay of life, I feel safe. I still don’t kid myself into thinking things could not change in a moment, but the process, the journey, and the lessons are real and tangible. They are/were the missing pieces to the puzzle in this journey. I find my rhythmic feet, dancing the fighters dance; footwork of the pugilist, slowing their fighting pace, a new stance is felt. I don’t feel myself side stepping, slipping, bobbing and weaving. I am not looking for a way to defeat what is in front of me out of fear, or to back away “out of the pocket”. I see a beauty as magnificant as any I ever imagined. Will she stay? WHO KNOWS?! I will NOT, however, ignore the lessons and the feelings. The warmth in her smile and the patience that is every cell of her being is something that I must absorb and be willing to explore. The gravity in her heart is something that I must allow to pull me closer. I can climb away, and I can damn sure fight, but I find myself standing here and absorbing all that the experience has to offer. Ever determined to be reslilient and show the fortitude that I have thus far, yet I feel I can maintain that independence while exploring the soul of another. I feel the balance! The kindness I feel seems almost surreal and the laughter seemingly intangible to some, and yet I feel free. My crippled wings have found the air and I feel the need to fly. Tomorrow isn’t here yet so I refuse to worry if she’ll stay, for today she is here, she is real, and she is standing right here in front of me. Unwavering and unafraid of the mess before her, only accepting that we are all human and only looking to find someone else to walk along beside her on her journey. Walking side by side as long as the path lasts, or as long as the destination is a shared experience, never devaluing what it is, yet never over stating what it is. I only hope that I can give back what I receive…I only hope that others can find peace within another as I seem to have done. This could last forever, for a week, or until tomorrow. As I try to not worry about the future, I realize that today is yesterday’s tomorrow, so I look with a fleating glance aroudn the corner, over my walls, into a tomorrow that may or may not come, yet I know it is there but not what it shall hold. Laughter radiates in my soul, I see the empty canvas before me waiting for me to paint my world.

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.