Climbing Out

  Once the anger passes, what is it left in the wake?  When the energy dies down enough to breathe, what do we have left to do?  In the eye of any storm there lies a peace, but just beyond that peace there is so much more turmoil.  When it’s all said and done, when you’ve made it through that eye, past the next phase, and out of the storm you come to a place of acceptance.  It’s a beautiful space where all is quiet, fresh from the falling tears, the soul feels tender and your heart still hurts, but you know you’ve “got this”.  It’s an amazing beauty and serenity filled space.  The shock has subsided and you know you are where you have to be.  Standing here in tatters, soaked in tears, broken but not forgotten, I see light.  I see and feel so much love; so many hands reaching out.  I know I’m still in a place of pain, and I know the hurt will last awhile, but I know I have the support of friends, the community, and my family.  I know not what tomorrow brings, but I stand here drenched in overwhelming love.  Love and kindness from places and faces I’d never expect.  I’m overwhelmed with gratitude.  Gratitude for those who crossed some lines to give me a little nudge or nod.  Grateful for a couple who’ve truly stood with me through this.  It ain’t over, but I have my feet again.  I can walk, I can run, and I can even fly!  I’ve discovered so much through this.  I’ve discovered ME again.  The tears washed away the rain and the clouds are slowly parting.

 

  When I close my eyes I see her.  When I hear the wind blowing through the treetops I feel her.  I accept these memories, and I am coming to see them as something to embrace.  I can’t look back, but I can embrace the love I had for her.  As I’ve said so many times, I can choose to remember the good, or I can sulk in the less than good.  I still see her in my dreams.  I still wake often searching for her, sometimes having to walk the streets in the middle of the night to shake this.  I can still hear her laughter and see her face.  Like a ghost in the night, I’m sometimes mesmerized by her grace.  She’s gone now but I see her ghost from time to time.  Time heals all, and the love will eventually fade.  I cannot, will not, and dare not try and fill the hole left in my soul.  It remains there to remind me.  I cannot deny the love within that space.  I cannot wash it away or fill it with someone else.  It’s OUR space and I will honor it until it fills on its own.  I’m learning to walk forward and to build a better life from the rubble.  I’m free, free as I’ll ever be.  With acceptance there is freedom, with forgiveness there is grace, and somewhere in between lies a space where it’s okay to smile at her memory.  I can’t find her feet under the sheets, I cannot hear her heart beat next to mine, feel her breath dancing through her lungs.  And yet I can remember and honor the fact that I loved her with every ounce of my being.  I can smile at the good, and discard the not so good.  I can sit quietly and acknowledge that my feelings are just that.  They will fade a little more each day.  As deep as the love is, it too shall pass.  I cannot say when, and yet I know I am safe.  I have the support and love of so many.  I am learning from my mistakes and growing from this in ways beyond description.  I am accepting, learning, growing, and moving forward.  All the while I am honoring the memory. 

 

  Some days are better than others.  Some days I don’t hear her voice, I don’t see her walking by.  Sleep is slowly returning and suddenly I’m on fire with life again.  I have mountains to climb, frozen waterfalls to waltz with, lives to touch.  I have dreams and desires that had unfortunately become suppressed.  The dreams laden with her presence are fading.  I know it is not to be.  The desert sunsets and fireside laughter are becoming a distant memory, but I smile at the light dancing around her beautiful face.  I see her in the glow, warmth, and peacefulness of that desert fire.  I’m okay to look within and feel those memories.  I cannot get past this without feeling these things.  I see her so gracefully dancing upon a vertical expanse.  I see her struggling up the sandstone abyss.  I see her elation when she reaches the top.  I still feel the arms holding me tight after that ascent.  I choose, I choose in this moment, and I choose on this day, to remember that which bound us so tightly.  I passed through the storm (this one anyway) and I know there could be more, but I hold on tightly to the fact that I loved beyond what I thought possible.  I may still roam the streets at night, searching for peace, reeling in pain, but I have the comfort of her memory to keep me warm.  The darkness at 3am, as I wander aimlessly, is not so scary anymore.  I can take the silence, I can feel the pain, and I will keep climbing.  I will move forward and one day I will feel that space filled back in.  I will miss her, I will honor her, and I will remember her.  I will make it.  One move at a time.   

Transcending The Pain

  We are each of us imperfect in so many ways.  To me we are all just bumbling, imperfect human beings looking for a way through this life while trying to do our best.  I don’t believe that there are many people out there who intentionally and willfully hurt others.  I’m not naïve enough to believe that there is NO ONE out there doing just that, I just choose to do my best to see the good, as opposed to the bad.  I’m fairly certain though that there lies within each of us a trigger that will unleash that mean streak.  I also know that sometimes others do intentionally hurt us, but I like to hope that it’s followed quickly by regret and sorrow.  When this happens, when we are emotionally, verbally, and sometimes physically assaulted, we have a choice in how we react.  I have a deep seeded trigger within myself.  I know it is there.  It’s always been there.  Strapping on leather gloves and stepping toe to toe with another willful individual is how I suppress that trigger, and yet not too long ago I let that trigger get the better of me.  I try and look at the things I said in haste and I’ve even gone so far as to “talk to someone about it” but I know for sure that I was pushed to that proverbial edge then swiftly kicked in the rear right over it.  I accept the words I said, and the more time that goes on, I realize that I said what I had to say, and I said what I meant.  It still hurts to know that you released that anger.  By “talking to someone” I’ve come to realize that in comparison what I said was not really that mean, and that it was also my defense mechanism to end the madness and to stop the cyclical pattern of being attacked verbally and emotionally.  My anger is not a place where I find comfort.  It’s not an emotion that I share willingly.  It’s something I prefer to keep in the inner recesses of my being.

  Through hours of talking it out, looking for answers, and reaching out for help, I’ve come to realize that the pain I endured was “enough”.  It is, was, and will remain time to move away from that space.  Words sometimes hurt worse than the fists and kicks I endure in a good sparring match.  The pain of being kicked in the head is like no other.  As your opponent comes in, setting up that devastating blow with jabs and hooks, you are aware.  You know you are in a battle.  You cannot dodge the pain.  It’s coming and you know it.  When that elusive kick finally connects to the cranium, something within had prepared you for it.  And yet that moment where you realize you have suddenly lost your ground, your footing, your equilibrium, and your senses, is not unlike this process I have been facing.  I’ve kissed the mat several times over the last 5 years of training.  I’ve taken my beatings and I’ve tried hard to condition my body and mind for the onslaught.  When you are beaten down by one you love, that’s a different beast in and of itself.  No amount of padding, gear, or preparation will suffice when the day comes where you realize you are verbally beaten to a pulp.  When you are emotionally devastated by words, cruelty, and a disproportionate amount of hate, you could only wish for a kick to the head instead.  You are limited on your defenses.  No amount of bobbing and weaving can get you past it.  You have to deal with it, head on!

  I’m learning that getting through that pain is far easier said than done.  By me putting up my defense, and stopping the onslaught, I figured I would just man up and be tough in order to get me through.  When the dust settled I realized I was far more beaten that I had anticipated.  The wounds were deeper than I could have imagined.  I knew I was facing the next opponent.  I knew the cathartic state would pass and as my emotions settled, I thought I’d just tough this out.  Fake it til’ you make it!  I was wrong!  The pain of losing someone you love, truly loved, is sometimes more than even the toughest of the tough can handle.  We can stand in its face with undogged determination, but we cannot go around it.  We can stand there and do nothing, but the energy of the action will permeate us if we do not make progress.  To get past it, you have to move through it.  You cannot go around that pain.  You cannot go under it.  You can’t jump over it.  You have to embrace it and feel it in order to get through it.  There is only one way to find the other side, and I believe that is straight through it with eyes wide open.  When you have accepted the fact that your belief in all that is good can, and will, be challenged you become humbled.  When the rare occasion presents itself that you are taken for a ride with ill will and hurtful intention, you just have to ride that bull and come to this place in front of the pain.

 

  I’m learning to be quiet in this place.  I’m accepting my part and my shortcomings.  I am starting to recognize that emotions are just that!  Feelings.  Fleeting and elusive.  We are not our emotions.  We can choose to be shaped by them, or we can deal with them head on.  We can recognize them as impermanent and own the fact that they are there.  When I stood before this pain (initially) I was paralyzed with fear.  I’d rather go bare knuckle and flat out with one of my sparring buddies than face this beast.  I chose the direct path with the help of some friends and close support.  I wish this upon no one, and yet we’ll all face it at some point in our lives.  Whether it’s a lost love or the ultimate loss of death, there will come a time when we don’t want to feel what is inevitable.  When you choose to walk gracefully from a situation, with your own dignity in mind, then you must move forward.  Face the pain and let the pain wash away the grief.  Let one bathe the other and purge it from where you stand.  The beauty in this approach is when you finally transcend the pain; you emerge on the other side stronger.  More resilient, whole, and it is there, and only there, where you will find the one true reward of facing the pain….forgiveness.

Plight of The Butterfly

I worry sometimes.  It’s not uncommon for a single father whogave it all for that very right (“father”) to worry that someone, something, some event will come and take away what he sacrificed his life’s work, savings and future to achieve.  I believe it’s as natural a feeling as any out there.  I am far from perfect; in fact being perfect is just about the most unappealing thing to me.  I value diversity and I embrace most challenges that come my way.  My writing style was recently compared to the great literary giant (in my mind) Edward Abbey.  It can go all over the place, touch high emotions and low, direct in an indirect way, and always driven to the point by passion.  That’s Edward Abbey and to be compared to such an inspirational human being is nothing short of a great compliment.  I’ve not been able to put my finger on the “why” of my desire to write.  Often times it seems as though this keyboard is the tap into my heart and mind.  It’s a place to release those thoughts swirling in my head.  Someone once told me that I had a “butterfly mind” and for a long time I viewed that as anything but a compliment.  That someone never really embraced that observation and I came to feel that it was not only an insult, but a problem.  Only after hearing the compliment about my writing style did I take the time to sit and not only think about the way the butterflies twitter through my mind, but only then did I sit down and talk to someone about it.  I had come to a point with that individual where my faults were continually pointed out; I could never be good enough.  The coy comments would sometimes bounce right off, but the persistence was unavoidable.  As I slowly retreated into myself, I realized that I was changing.  I was shifting from within and trying to adapt to the energy from another.  It wasn’t until I was free from those chains that I realized I had fallen for that inevitable trap of letting someone whose own insecurities drove the constant criticism, put downs, and nagging persistence that would lead me into the hole I had withdrawn to.  Only through the process of climbing out of the fog have I been able to reflect and not only forgive myself,  but accept that I am what I am, and I’m happy with who I am.

 

  I acknowledge the fact that I am an imperfect human being in an even more imperfect world.   We all bring strengths and weaknesses to the table of our shared lives.  When we make the choice to share this life with someone it’s a virtual cornucopia of interests, passions, feelings, and love.  When we enter into a relationship, I believe (and always have) that it should be a beautiful adventure lacking any preconceived notions, ultimatums, or ideology.  I think if each of us can accept the man, woman, and children that surround us, we can do nothing but encourage, nourish, and take part in the blossoming of something wonderful.  We are, after all, a species developed in our relationships.  A society bound together by love.  I believe we are put on this earth to love.  Love our friends; love our partners, our kids, and the world around us.  Should we learn to accept all faults within another, it is then that we free ourselves as well as forgive ourselves for our short comings.  When we continually judge, beat down, and criticize with dogged persistence, we only close the door to our own hearts.  It’s a continuous growing process to step out of our comfort zone and look deeply into our varied relationships within this lifetime and pull the good from each one.  To nourish that, while accepting shortcomings and faults, is truly nothing short of amazing.  To find the peace within oneself is to find the peace within another.  Anger begets anger, hate begets hate, and preconceived notions only lead you down a road of disappointment. 

 

  Through this experience I’ve learned to accept that having the “butterfly mind” is far from a curse.  Being spontaneous, open to change, and wild at heart is far from a curse.  My faults are mine and I am as human as anyone.  I fall down sometimes, but I’ve always gotten back up.  I can be knocked down by the mean spirited will of others, and I can make the choice to get back up and keep on going.  I have no choice but that.  Humiliation is an invasive toxin.  Dishonor is a volatile aggressor, but pain and anger if used respectfully and carefully is an amazing opiate to push you past the situation.  I pray that I never use humiliation as a tool.  I am out of regret and the sorrow will fade.  My worries and struggles are genuine and mine.  The perception of those worries being a “dark cloud” is something I will struggle with for some time.  I’ve done my best to endure, and I’d give it all again to have my children, but I’d not likely let myself go to the same extent.  Pushed into a hole and beat to a bloody pulp.  I am what I am and I make no apologies.  Live your life so that when you leave there are footprints on the hearts of those close to you.  Accept others unconditionally and love uncompromisingly.  When the butterflies in your heart and mind are brought into question…close your eyes and relish in the dance of those butterflies flying in formation.  Maybe you are the only one to see that formation, but it’s yours nonetheless.  Make no apologies and grovel to none.  Love your life!  At the end of the day be accountable for your judgments and actions.   When you focus on what is bad, you create a pattern within yourself that not only notices the bad much more quickly, but you dwell in that space and rewire your brain to seek out those traits, it is inevitable that you will only swim within that space and creates a self fulfilling prophecy.   Love and honor those you are fortunate to cross paths with and sit quietly before you react.  Compromise not what you know to be true, but be flexible enough to embrace diversity.   Finally when the onslaught becomes too great to bear, spread your wings and flutter away with grace and kindness.  Align the butterflies and charge off into the sun.

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May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view.  May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.

~ Edward Abbey

Sifting Through the Rubble:

Inspired by true events..and a true friend:

 

  We sometimes make decisions that feel right at the time.  Caught up in our own emotions, swirling in a sea of discontent and confusion, we can make decisions that we sometimes regret.  Depending on which school of thought you subscribe to, you may either feel that we don’t choose who we love, or you may see that love is a choice.  Either way, love can be fleeting at times, vibrant at others, feel gone for awhile, or at times seem gone all together.  I’m personally of the belief that not all love endures, but true love endures all.  It’s becoming less and less common in this society to have the fortitude and the stick-to-itiveness to see past the momentary lapses of the burning love we all so desire.  It’s far easier to walk away, blaze a new trail, and find that passion in a new thing.  Having the dogged perseverance to be the giver when your partner is down on one knee is not only an art, but a fight worth making, for you too will find yourself down on one knee at some point.   It is this sense of having a partner that drives many of us.  I see it so often; the inexplicable contentment suddenly comes crashing down.  Is it a chemical in our mind?  Is it something far deeper?  It is much easier to point out the faults of others, the injustices, and the trials and simply walk away.  It is far easier to place blame than to work on your own shortcomings and bring to the table an equal serving of understanding and love.

  The friend who inspired this post is one for whom I have admired since meeting her, and yet due to circumstances within my own relationship, it was necessary to keep her at arm’s length.  I knew of her plight only through hearsay or from the somewhat biased opinions of those friends mutual to us.  It seems everyone has had advice for her.  We’ll just call “her” Sara for the sake of remaining incognito.  This is, after all, Durango and we all like to retain some semblance of privacy in this small town in the Rockies.  Sara and I met through another friend.  Sara had been in the clutches of a separation and what has seemed like an inevitable divorce.  The women in “the circle” that I knew were certainly opinionated and often times cruel in their comments about Sara’s situation.  It seems everyone knew, or knows, the fix or what’s best for their “friend”.  All the while Sara has taken this journey ever so slowly.  While I wasn’t truly able to get close to Sara, see the person she was, I was getting to know her vicariously through my relationships within the circle.  When we were fortunate enough to spend time in close proximity I could feel a certain sense of being grounded when near her.  She just has an air about her.  She’s not quick to judge, she’s open minded, and she has love for all just oozing from her pores.  She’s a great soul and I knew it then, as I know it today. 

  Trough our little circle here in Durango we would cross paths, but as I said before, I was unable to truly know her due to some very unfortunate, childish, and selfish feelings within that ring.  And yet she would always offer a smile in passing.  I would see her in town while shopping for groceries, on the river trail sometimes when I’d run, and she’d acknowledge me in sometimes subtle ways, but I always felt she knew I was there.  I would often wonder how she was, how her separation from her husband was going, and how her kids were dealing with all of this.  I knew from my own experience how brutal it can be.  I could not ask her for fear of the insecurity laden lashing I’d receive if I crossed that boundary.  You see within our little circle, therein lies sometimes sub circles.  She wasn’t welcome within one circle so I reluctantly (and mistakenly) respected lines that were unnecessary and hurtful.  Sara would still cross my mind as I heard the stories of contempt, disrespect, and frustration that permeated all boundaries.  As I said, everyone seemed to know what was best for her.  I wasn’t the man then that I am now, nor am I the man I was even yesterday.  It took a cataclysmic turn of events which would turn my world upside down, to reconnect us.   For whatever reason our paths had crossed again.  We had come full circle, within the circles!

  Sara was gracious that day that our paths crossed again.  Supportive, kind, and incredibly sincere.  Worried more for my well being than her own.   I couldn’t help but feel guilty for not being the friend she was in that moment, when I knew she had likely needed the same in previous times.  My apologies for standing there frozen in the fear of the tyranny I’d have endured were quickly dismissed.  The conversation progressed and when I asked how her separation or divorce had progressed, she floored me with the most heartfelt reply.  It seems her time away had given her, if nothing else, pause!  She went on to explain the hesitancy and I could feel the sincerity in her words.  The time that had passed between them and their decision to split had been significant.  The years spent together had clearly been more so.  It is often difficult to express emotion through the keys beneath our fingers but as I typed I felt a small ping of emotion arising.  HOPE.  Hope that maybe this friend had a chance to reflect and make a decision with utter clarity and conviction.  I found myself envying her for having the wherewithal to put on the brakes and take a moment to reflect.  As the masses were bashing her husband, throwing him under the proverbial bus (then backing over him again) I was proud to see this woman taking a stand for what was, and what could still be.  Unapologetically standing for the essence of love.  Not running quickly away, pointing out the faults, and counting the errors, delivering ultimatums.  She was stopping dead in her tracks to breathe for a minute.  She was being accountable for the tiny bubble of hope in her heart.  She was honoring not only herself, her children, and her family, she was honoring LOVE.  Pure and simple. 

  As I alluded to previously, love can be fleeting, and love can fall to the wayside, but most of all, love can endure.  Whether she takes a right or a left at this crossroad is of little significance to the rest of us.  Her heart is right, her mind is clear, and she is standing there consciously peering down each path.  I look at the slander and words thrown around over the last couple of years and I’m ashamed to have emulated the cowardice of the circle cynics. No one seems to believe in second chances anymore.  More importantly no one seems to believe in hope anymore.  The odds are clearly stacked against Sara, but having the courage to take a minute is tantamount to standing up for all that you are.  She could likely take the path to the left; continue on with her new life.  Follow through with her divorce, and make the rest of her life about herself and her dreams.  She could also take the path to the right and honor the days from her life spent with this man.  Recognize the difficulties, release the anger, and even accept that not all is (or will be perfect) but she can take that spark of love and light an inferno.  She can try and meld her dreams into his again.  Either path will work for her.  She’s a warrior to the core.  She will get through it but I know today that she has a fan on the fringes of these circles.  She has a friend standing up and screaming “hell yeah”.  I’m a fan of the fight.  I’m a fan of the underdog.  I’m a fan of love and forgiveness.  Most of all I’m a fan of Sara.  Her world came crumbling down over the last few years.  As she stands in a pile of debris from a lifetime with a man she loves, she can begin to shovel her way out, bury the debris, or she can take those crumbled pieces, mix with some water (love) and some cement (commitment) and she can build a new house.  I’m not saying the choice is to turn back around, or to even try.  If your choice is to leave it all behind and blaze ahead then you alone have to make that choice.  That choice should include all of the dignity, kindness, compassion, and love that you have not only been afforded from your lover, but a bit more, as you could possibly be leaving deep scars within that other soul.  Leave with grace, and leave behind some dignity.  If, however, you choose to turn around and set your sails for home, do it with all the gusto and energy within your being.  Do the work!  Clearly and without reservation.  Put your energies and your efforts into what you choose.  Cruelty, intolerance, and vindictiveness only beget the same.

 Either way she’s a winner.  Either way she did the honorable thing by considering all those involved.  Whether she goes right, or she goes left, she has already taken the road less travelled.  She honored her past, her connection, her heart, and her love.  If only we could all break the chains (circles) that bind us and not take the easy way so quickly.  I’m proud of you Sara.  I’m proud to call you my friend and I’ll be right here in your corner no matter which bearing you take.

And the Sunflowers Danced

She took my breath away the moment she walked in the door.  She was so counter to everything I thought I had known.  She challenged me in ways I thought not possible.  I remember the day I first saw her walk in and the tingling all the way down to my toes.  I clearly see her face all this time later.  I remember the clothes she was wearing and the way she wore her hair.  I vividly recall the beating in my chest and the quick interaction my mind played when it told me to sit down and stuff this down.  I’d become quite the cynic not only after my divorce, but as time went on I gradually lost faith in humanity and the prospects of feeling those things again.  I had become solid in who I had become.  I had regained my self esteem and slowly I regained my steadfast ability to remain even keeled.  I let the anger and hurt subside and fade away into the sun.  The joy in my life returned and I regained my footing.   And then she walked in the door and all bets were off.  Again, I quickly maintained my composure and swiftly picked my jaw back up off the floor.  There was just something about her.  The way she moved, the way she laughed.  All things noted from a distance and secretly I found myself hoping she’d come no closer that day.  That she was just walking in and walking back out so that the normalcy I had created could remain.

 

  It was not to be.  She walked back in that door a few weeks later and shortly thereafter we stood outside in the summer heat exchanging pleasantries and simply talking.  I knew I was in trouble instantly.  All the tough guy bravado, iron walls, and sheer will that I had developed, instantly came crashing down that afternoon.  I found myself completely enthralled with one simple conversation.  Her eyes pierced my very soul as we stood in that parking lot and just talked.  No expectations and just pure delight in talking so openly and freely with someone.  As  I quietly navigated the way home that day I remember the lump in my throat and the butterflies in my stomach.  Never had I felt so at peace with someone and yet I had no inkling of what I had discovered.  We would see each other again, frequently, and always fell right back into the safety and ease of one another.  We exchanged numbers and I clearly remember fumbling for my phone as she blurted out the digits.  Trying desperately to get the sausage fingers to operate the Iphone’s midget digits.  Still, I maintained my composure and for the first time in so very long I just felt I had a friend.  A comrade in arms, and a free spirited ally.  As time passed it became so much more evident that she was so much more than these things.  I had never spoken so freely and felt so unjudged by anyone.  She’d quickly become the friend that we all dream of.  And then she’d become so much more in the blink of an eye.

 

    We would become the consummate companions.  Both from troubled and broken pasts, and yet both so full of life and hopeful for the future.  We evolved daily and while every day wasn’t perfect, I always found something perfect in every day.  When we’d disagree, argue, or need a breather, I’d embrace the good and bask in the vivid memories we had created.  As any couple would likely admit, things are never perfect all the time, and we both entered this arena with a colored and tumultuous past, but we always found our way back to center.  The natural balance of our lives just gently guided us back to common ground and mutual understanding that we were imperfect human beings embracing something far deeper than either had anticipated.  The days progressed and the feelings deepened.  The connection grew and we were wrapped in a continual embrace of learning and growing together.  The day I sat across from her and told her that my “fall” had begun is as clear today as the first day we met.  The fear coursed through my veins and the uncontrollable, pulsating, nausea nearly derailed the words I needed to utter.  One of the most difficult things I had ever done had been to tell her how much she meant to me and how ingrained she had become into my very soul.  We had grown into one another.  We seemed to support one another through rain and shine.  We reached for one another’s soul like a sunflower reaching for the sun.  The walls were gone, crumbled at my feet, and the wind was with us.  We were never perfect, but we were a force to be reckoned with.  I had my activities, she had hers.  I still loved, to my very core, the pugilistic approach to dealing with my past.  I still went to the gym and punched, kicked, tapped, and submitted my way through any arising issues.  She clicked into her pedals and twisted the cranks down country roads with the wind in her face and sunflowers waving in the wind as she gracefully passed.  I admired her strength and melted with her laughter.  I finally felt “good enough”. 

 

  The ever present cynic in me slowly evaporated into the clouds.  Even with our two strong personalities, we found our way through the maze of life and dating in a dynamic and fluid world.  We always allowed space when needed but we began to evolve in our relationship and soon I found her to be not only my partner in life but my climbing partner.  She had become the only one I wanted to be tied together with in a world of vertical puzzles.  We had solved so many of life’s puzzles together through countless glasses of wine, late night chats, evenings in the kitchen, that it just made sense to share a rope with her.  I had found a place where I could see the beauty in her not only on the surface, but a place where she would shine like a jewel bathed in brilliant sunlight.  Watching her climb was tantamount to watching a delicate dance, a struggle with gravity..a metaphor for life.   I discovered that climbing with her became a way for us to paint the proverbial canvas of life upon some distant rock face.  I secretly craved the moments we’d spend suspended from some vertical canvas.  Painting away, together, and creating this world that had become ours.  I dreamed of the nights in the kitchen dancing away to the vinyl spinning piping jazz from the speakers.  I had come full circle, and in fact had gone beyond that and discovered what it was that I had missed in the past.  The pieces fit.  I had found a sunflower in a barren wasteland.

 

 

  And then one day it all came crashing down.  The perfect storm would brew from the depths of our past lives.  The winds of change and the unforeseen circumstances of my trying to balance life as a single father, and live as a dedicated lover came face to face.  All shortcomings, idiosyncrasies, and otherwise seemingly harmless faults came rushing forward.  Patience and tolerance would wane from time to time, but finding our center was never more than a rope length away.  It was not to be this time.   Through an unforeseen perfect set of missteps, misunderstandings, and events, the ties that bound two magical souls severed and the world came crashing down.  How quickly you find yourself standing amongst the rubble and trying desperately to find a way through the smoke to a clear, safe, and peaceful place again.  Time heals all wounds, and yet as I’ve become all too familiar with, the scars remain to remind you of the incident, like a roadmap to our lives.  I look back on the days we shared and I can’t help but smile.  I miss her laughter, I miss the nights of lying there awake and watching her sleep.  I still feel the touch of her skin and I still smell the beautiful scent of her hair upon the pillows. I still wake at night searching for her feet next to mine, I still see our bare toes crawling towards one another in the desert sand.   Regardless of the how, why, when, or words thrown in haste..I choose to remember her like a flower dancing in the wind.  The sunflower reaching for the sky.  I see her face when I close my eyes, and I feel her there when I climb without her.  She’s like the wind now..always out there, maybe not right here, right now, but her memory shall remain.  The lackluster days were always there but insignificant.  The bad days were surely there but they cannot hold a candle to the wind that was so beautiful in our world.  I close my eyes and remember the days of walking amongst the pines, the wind soughing through the needles.   I’d give so much to have said so much more only a day before, but the deed is done and the winds have died.  As autumn approaches in the Rockies I look back over my shoulder picking myself up again, dusting myself off, and wiping my eyes..I look over my shoulder, back down the path I had just traversed and I see her smiling in the sunflowers.  Dancing in the wind.  As the seasons perpetually change, so do our lives.  Whether we try our best, or fail miserably, life too shall go on.  I will see her again, and all those I love, beyond this life, in another place..but not yet.  The wind will blow again, and the sunflowers will dance.

There's a vast emptiness within all of us. An unexplored oasis beckoning to us, calling us in. There's so much inside of us that goes unused, unnoticed, untapped, and rarely understood. While the notion that we only use 10% of our brains rests more in popular folklore than scientific theory, and clearly there are studies in brain physiology that actually suggest most if not all areas of the brain have function, it's hard to believe that there isn't something deeper than just our physical brain. I dare not open the argument of whether or not we have a soul, but I find it hard to believe that someone can believe that there isn't something deeper. Regardless of others beliefs, I feel as though there is so much more beyond our thoughts, brains, or however you'd like to word it. There's a space within, regardless of your religion, beliefs, or lack thereof, that is begging to be explored if only we'd take the time to slow down and do so. I know as I've taken this journey down a quiet inner rode (yoga), not just this time, but in the past as well, I find this space when I devote myself to slowing down, listening to something deeper, and quieting my mind. I am unsure what to call it, whether it's as deep and boundless as I imagine, but I feel like it's an empty canvas, waiting for all the vibrant rich colors I dare to throw at it. I find myself searching for this space within when I am quiet in my yoga practice, meditating, walking, or just finding that place where my mind finally shuts up. I find myself more centered when I can merely step foot into this place. Like a sacred journey, ShubhYatra, into the unknown.

  It's not just during yoga that I find myself staring into this unknown. There are times when I've been climbing and I seem to just flow over stone. If you are a climber, and have been for any respectable amount of time, I am sure that you too have experienced this state of grace. That sensation where you are literally dancing with gravity, gently finding your way over a difficult piece of stone, gliding and utterly free. If you've experienced such freedom then it inevitably brings you back each time, searching for that grace, craving that dance. Within the space of your heart, and your mind, you continue climbing, searching for those moments, those climbs where you are so free and feel an elation that only one who has been there knows. It's something that seems so incomprehensible to a person who hasn't gone that deep. It seems mystical and whimsical all at once. So often we are asked why we climb, what's the appeal, and why we risk it all. I firmly believe that in doing so, in risking so much, in quieting our mind in the face of such great peril, only then can we tap into that beautiful pristine place within that we cannot explore under normal circumstances.

  I'm not sure what brings you inwards to this space, or if you have even experienced it or tried to set off in search of it, but I know that if you have, then you understand. It seems so ironic that we cruise through this life on auto pilot, stopping to explore deeper so infrequently. As a western culture we seem almost cynical about the possibilities. I know it's there, and I truly relish the moments when I can stick my head through that door and peer inside. I've heard of ultra runners experiencing something similar. I know that I've been there even while simply running some of my favorite trails. I've felt the air beneath my feet and a lightness that has set me free. I've even experienced something of the sort while sparring. It's as if you can see, feel, and hear your opponent making a move before they actually do.

  I love the landscape within us and yet I must struggle to connect with these moments, with this space. Much like the rest of society, I often feel that my over taxed brain is 100% in control. All cognitive thought is in order. All circuits are firing. I wonder if our upbringing brings us to a place of misinformed logic, or are we truly at our maximum potential for a species. I'm not certain I know more than the next guy, but I do feel this space whirling inside of me. As I age, learn, grow, and blossom, I am more curious about what's beyond. I don't mean what's beyond this life, as I'm not in a hurry to get there, but what's beyond our thoughts. What's in there? Am I the only one out there wondering if I've reached this point? I'm quite certain of the fact that I am not, but I'm less certain of the fact that it's acceptable to discuss these days.

  Regardless of your stance on the subject, I implore you to listen closely the next time you are pushed to your limits, and can sense that there is actually more buried inside of you! I challenge you to be gentle, and reach towards that “more”. I hope that we can all get to a place where our curiosity gently nudges us out into a place where we become disenchanted with the status quo, with being okay with just being okay. I believe that we are so much more capable, that we are so much more than just human beings on auto pilot through this life. I know that personally I have reached a place in life where I am comfortable, incredibly happy, and yet I'm unsatisfied with just coasting into the end. I want to explore beyond what I know, have known, and what society tells me is the limit. I have seen happiness beyond description in a place half way around the world, in a people with FAR less than we have, and that happiness was genuine and to the core. I know that it is out there for all of us, and I'm willing to step into that blank canvas and continue to take whatever moments I can within that place, relishing each breath. I'm willing to push off from the safety of shore and take off on a journey into the unknown, a sacred journey.....Shubh Yatra! Like a flower blooming from an unsuspecting, seemingly empty space, we too have the ability to flourish in a space seemingly uninhabitable.

International Mountain Leadership Institute - Spring 2013 Guide Training

  Here are some of the images from our program in Leh, India this spring.  If you'd like to help support our projects, please visit our website.  We cannot do it without your support.

www.mountainleadership.org