Climbing A Mountain Part 5: It All Adds Up

My pack weighed over 40 pounds. That’s a lot to muscle up a mountain, and every pound made every step harder. It slowed me down, which meant that it had the potential to slow everyone else down too. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only one with a heavy pack, and we all worked together to find a pace that was sustainable for our long haul.

But every pound mattered. Even one or two less would have eased my burden, and that of my fellow hikers.

Back home unloading my pack, I weighed every single item. I wanted to know how much that which was essential weighed, all in service of lightening my load for the next adventure. I began to understand why backpackers cut the handles off of their toothbrushes. It all adds up.

When we moved from our last house over 15 years ago, we didn’t do much sorting and sifting and shucking. We just stuffed everything into boxes, shoved them into two rented storage units, and shut the door. We didn’t think about them again until a couple of years later when we were ready to move into our new home. In the interim, as our house was being built, we housesat. Living like nomads, we brought only what was absolutely essential. At each new house I would set our two favorite coffee mugs on the kitchen counter, along with our French Press, and a photo of our family. And with that, while the house may not have been ours, we were home.

When it finally came time to unload the storage units so that we could load everything into moving trucks so that we could unload everything at our new home so that we could load everything back into our new garage, I took mental stock of the process. As the storage unit doors opened up I was tempted to simply hold an epic estate sale and leave it all behind.

Thankfully, we didn’t, as there were many things worth keeping. And truthfully, there were many things that weren’t. What we hang onto can all too easily become a burden. Be it possessions, wounds, habits, old stories, beliefs, or ways of being, it all adds up.

We all carry an invisible pack on our back. What is essential to an authentic and wholehearted life, and what is not. That which served us in the past may not serve us now, or perhaps never has. Every day is an opportunity to lighten our load, readying us for the adventures still to come, and equipping us to climb the mountains that will inevitably appear on our horizon.

The longer I live the more I am inspired to travel light. Maybe I’ll start by cutting the handle off of that toothbrush.

The Corner From Hell

Why does every kitchen have a corner that’s too crowded? The one where attempting to put something into the microwave means reaching over the head of the person unloading the dishwasher. In our kitchen, it’s the corner where pouring a cup of coffee, stirring something on the stove, and reaching for dishes to set the table all converge. Working there by myself is fine. Given my claustrophobia, throw one more body into the mix and it’s the corner from hell.

Defined as an intense fear of confined or enclosed spaces, claustrophobia impacts about 12.5% of us. It is a phobia because the fear is greater than the perceived threat. For me, the mere thought of spelunking, traffic coming to a stop in a long tunnel, the window seat in the last row of the plane on an international flight, or taking the Chunnel under the English Channel makes me start to hyperven… Can we just talk about something else??

While not included with the 5 love languages, one of mine is space and autonomy. I’ve worked hard to develop my sense of self and independence, and I feel loved and seen when others recognize that. Becoming strong and capable in my own right has come at a price, and when that gets threatened it elicits a powerful, visceral response I’ve come to recognize as emotional claustrophobia. It gets triggered when someone, (unfortunately usually someone I love) steps in to help me when I haven’t asked for it. It feels like they are hovering over me and attempting to rescue me from something I’m totally capable of handling myself. Left to its own devices, my lizard brain takes over and I find myself in full fight or flight mode. It’s not pretty.

When triggered, most of us don’t respond from our best selves, and I am anything but an exception to that rule. Perceiving a threat where there is none, I’ve hurt the feelings of the people I love with my fear-based reactions and harsh words. To learn to respond from a better place rather than react from an unhealthy one, I’m working to identify the feeling when it occurs. Instead of acting on that inner claustrophobia to protect myself, I describe what I’m experiencing to the person I deem to be doing the hovering and helping. It’s my intent to share that with them in a calm and respectful way, a goal that is still somewhat aspirational. But I’m making progress.

This practice is a way of living from the inside out. A way of bringing to the light what we are tempted to keep in the dark. Disclosing when we are feeling triggered rather than keeping it to ourselves, those long held and often irrational fears begin to loosen their grip. Learning to communicate about our triggers in real time can be a game changer in a relationship. It is a way of holding ourselves accountable to show up differently, and an invitation for others to show up differently too.

By understanding what fuels the unhealthy patterns that show up in our relationships, we have the possibility of creating new healthy patterns together. But only if we talk about them.

Maybe just don’t try talking about it in the corner from hell.

Unloading The Wheelbarrow

It is easy to treat our mind like a mental wheelbarrow. One that we fill to the brim with issues, and our thoughts and feelings about those issues, all of which require precious mental and emotional energy as we carry them with us wherever we go. Rather than taking the time to actually do something about the contents of the wheelbarrow, we just keep wheeling them through our days.

If you’re like me, almost anything is fair game to pile into the cart. On any given day my cart might be piled high with relationship issues, conversations past, present and future, financial concerns, heartaches, challenges to those we love, health issues, politics, global warming, aging skin, unfinished projects, the NFL Playoffs, and the holidays. Just to name a few.

One of the best practices we can develop is to lighten our own mental load. To stop pushing the wheelbarrow, take out one thing, and deal with it. Find out about it. Understand the truth about it, and with that understanding do what we can to take care of it.

To lighten your mental load, what is one thing you can take out of your wheelbarrow?

Photo by Johannes Plenio from Pexels

New Shoes

Most pilgrims who walk the Camino de Santiago end their journey at the Santiago de Compostela cathedral, often celebrating the mid-day Pilgrim Mass. Others however continue on to the fishing town of Finisterre. There it has been the custom for many to *burn their hiking shoes as a final act of their pilgrimage.

Those hiking shoes, probably well-worn, have served their purpose, having gotten them to “the end of the world”, and now they will need new shoes to take them wherever their road leads in the future.

Life is a continual act of letting go of what might have once served us, but no longer does. Of burning away the old in order to make way for the new. Of unpacking our bags and taking stock of what we carry, and repacking with the essentials necessary for the next leg of our trip. Of practicing new skills and putting old ones to rest. Of burning our old shoes and breaking in new ones.

Whatever it is that got us here will not get us where we are going.

(*this practice has attracted much criticism due to the obvious environmental impacts and safety implication.)

Photo by Lum3n.com from Pexels

But You Can't Hide

It is so easy to look for an escape hatch.

We move on from one situation in the hopes of leaving our troubles behind, only to find that they have followed us into the new one.

We head for the greener grass on the other side of the fence, only to discover we haven’t yet learned how to feed and water our own lawn.

We pack up and find a new home, only to be greeted at the door by the same life we had before.

We end one relationship in search of a better one, and find the same partner wearing a different face.

At one time or another all of us find ourselves in need of a fresh start, and crossing the finish line of our current race is the only to get there.

No matter how fast or far we run, whatever we choose to ignore comes with us wherever we go.

The Garage—A Retrospective

Earlier this year we began talking about all the building and home improvement projects we are excited to take on: a bunkhouse above the garage, a bucket list shop for Tom, a new lawn, an in-ground sprinkler system, an outdoor shower, a garden, an outdoor meditation space, and a full-size labyrinth, just to name a few.

Every one of those projects sounded fun, creative, and exciting. However, none of those could happen until we cleaned out the garage, which didn’t sound fun, creative, or exciting.

As of 6 days ago, it was filled to the rafters with things we’ve accumulated over the past 25 years as we’ve moved most of the contents from one garage, basement, extra bedroom, or storage unit to another.

Today, it isn’t.

Looking back over a week (that actually turned out to be fun, creative, and exciting) here are a few things that are worth noting…

Starting matters.

The first step is always the hardest, so get it over with and get moving.

Momentum matters.

Once in motion, keep going.

Finishing matters.

When tempted to stop, don’t.

This morning we torched off the burn pile, made up of pine branches, and, an accumulation of the flotsam and jetsam that did nothing but weigh us down and wear us out.

Good riddance to bad rubbish.

With gratitude to Bob and Margie. We couldn’t have done it without you.

Digging A Hole

My sister reminded me of an experience she had many years ago. An old message, founded in old wounds, continued to haunt her, clouding her thinking and keeping her stuck in old ways that no longer served her. While she knew it was time to move on, that toxic story continued to stealthily land on her shoulder and whisper its poisonous message.

How to be done with it once and for all?

Dig a hole.

She found a place that required work to get there, dug a deep hole, buried it, and left it behind. If she ever wanted to retrieve that story, she’d have to go to the effort of returning to that hard-to-get-to place and dig it up again. When the story tried to show up again, as stories like that are wont to do, she remembered that it was buried in a deep, deep hole far, far away.

End of story.

The Baggage Tag

Every time I pack my suitcase to head out of town, I discover that the baggage tag from my last airplane flight is still attached. From now on, that irrelevant tag is staying behind at the airport, tossed into a trash can, leaving me ready for the next, perhaps as yet unknown, leg of my trip.

It’s not about where we’ve been.

It’s about where we’re going.

Lighten Up

It’s finally here. The last day of the year.

This is the day for one last glance over our shoulder, taking note of what we’ve accomplished and experienced, how we’ve grown and what we’ve discovered, what we’ve contributed and what we’ve been given.

This is also the day to leave behind what we don’t want to carry with us into 2019. We get so used to carrying what we carry that we just drag it along with us, never counting the cost.

Let’s not do that.

The new year is beckons, and there’s no room for excess baggage.