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 Prong Collar

Until we brought Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle into our home, I thought a prong collar was a cruel device used to torture dogs. That was then. This is now. As it turns out, this scary looking metal collar, when fitted properly and used correctly, is both extremely effective and very humane. 

Our vision for this joyful creature who now shares our home and fills our hearts is to be the happiest four-legged, curly-haired girl she can be, to know how to keep herself out of harms way, and to ultimately have the maximum amount of freedom possible. Such freedom has to be earned, and with the help of her prong collar, she is banking her freedom chips faster than you can say Fetch!

Ii isn’t punishment, it’s information. Do this, not that. 

It’s like a tap on the shoulder, not a slap in the face.  This is okay, that’s not.

It increases self-restraint. Stop now, not later. 

It provides awareness. This is safe, that’s not. 

It builds connection. I’m ok if you’re ok.

To put it simply—the prong collar is nothing more than a useful feedback mechanism that helps Gracie learn what’s okay, and what’s not. Which, come to think about it, is something we human types need too. 

PS: Gracie wanted us to tell you, Never use a prong collar without proper instruction first.  

With gratitude for Matt Luchsinger and the team at NWB Dogs for helping us be better humans for Gracie.

Redemption

Redemption is always possible. As long as we draw breath, there remains the opportunity to turn things around, even if only in our own hearts. To do things differently. To be who we want to be in the midst of our circumstances, no matter how fraught or difficult they may be. The ball is always in our court, regardless of what happens on the other side of the net.

Redemption doesn’t always happen the way we hope it will. The other person may not seize the chance to turn things around. They may continue in their same vein, and to chart their same course. The ball is always in their court too. But what they do with it isn’t up to us.

Redemption can still happen even if we are the only ones showing up, and bringing the best of ourselves to the worst of situations. Because when all is said and done, sometimes knowing that we’ve done all we can with what we’ve got to work with is as redemptive as it gets.

Redemption is always possible. Even if we are the only ones being redeemed.

Wherever We Go

Sometimes a message just keeps showing up. This is one of those...

Do the work. Do it now. Do it here.

Whatever we choose to ignore comes with us wherever we go.  

Keys, Not Cages

The small man

builds cages for everyone

he

knows.

While the sage,

who has to duck his head

when the moon is low,

keeps dropping keys all night long

for the

beautiful

rowdy

prisoners.

- Hafiz

With gratitude to Dane Anthony for sharing this gorgeous poem with me.

The Hose We Step On

 “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything – anger, anxiety, or possessions – we cannot be free.” Thich Nhat Hanh

If you are anything like me, it is so very easy to get in our own way.  To hang on too tightly. To listen to the voice of fear, and then choose to believe it. To project ourselves into the worst case scenario, and then proceed to live there. Or, as my favorite (ok, my only) brother-in-law irreverently and succinctly puts it, we step on our own hose.  

All of these self-protective maneuvers do one thing, and one thing only. They stop us in our tracks. Hunkered down in our self-made bunkers, imprisoned in the midst of our fear, uncertainty, and desire for control, we forget that we hold the keys to our own freedom. But we are clinging so tightly to our imagined control that our hands aren’t free to grasp them.  

When stuck in our own muck, as my favorite (ok, my one and only) sister says, it’s time to make friends with the truth. It’s time to take stock of exactly where we are, and exactly what we have to work with. Armed with the truth, even if we don’t like it, we can begin to cast our eyes to the necessary road ahead, and as we envision the light at the end of our tunnel, it becomes the beacon towards which we walk. One step at a time, taken as quickly as we can manage and with as much courage as we can muster, we create momentum in the right direction. Add to that a  few trusted souls in our camp, and we are on our way.

The antidote to fear is the truth, and the truth sets us free to take action.

It’s as simple as that, and as hard as it gets.  

Onward. 

Upward. 

Together.