The Cap Cloud

This morning as I was snowshoeing out in our field—Gracie-the chocolate-labradoodle racing and romping with the kind of unabashed joy coveted by humans—cap clouds were beginning to form over Mt. Adams. Cap clouds (also referred to as lenticular clouds) form as strong winds flow over the mountain, pushing moist air upward where it cools and condenses into clouds.

Good weather forecasters, cap clouds often indicate a weather change is on the way. Knowing that a storm is brewing helps us prepare for what is to come, whether that be stocking up on food supplies, battening down the hatches, checking up on an elderly neighbor, or throwing in extra layers before heading down the road. Cap clouds alert mountain climbers of potentially, dangerous and possibly life threatening conditions, much like our National Weather Service* serves as an early warning system for us and our neighbors near and far.

This morning with Mt Adams looming in the near distance, if a storm was on the way, it wasn’t here yet. Just the clouds that suggested one might be coming. But for now, the sun was shining, the snow sparkling, and the field in perfect condition for snowshoeing. Gracie noticed none of the warning signs, intent only on the smells of the critters burrowed beneath the snow, the open spaces in which to cavort, and the ball I pulled out of my pocket for her to retrieve. Come what may in the hours ahead, she was hellbent on enjoying what was right here, right now.

Not a bad way to go through life as a human either. Not that we should live with our head in the clouds of denial or buried in the sands of despair, but rather that we heed the warnings of stormy weather ahead, and care well for ourselves and our fellow human beings. Whatever the storms, we will weather them together in the world that we inhabit together. And while we’re at it, let’s choose to live with as much unabashed joy as our human hearts can muster. Like Gracie-the-chocolate labradoodle.

This is an unpaid political announcement. Call your elected officials and tell them to protect and support the important, life-saving, and non-partisan work of NOAA, which includes the National Weather Service.

Leading The Way By Staying Behind

It was disappointing not to make it to the top of that mountain.

After a year of planning, training, and imagining being on the top with everyone, it never occurred to me that I wouldn’t make it up there. I’m not big on mentally planning for every possible scenario in order to insulate myself from disappointment, so it was hard to let go of how I thought it would look. Some days it still is, but I wouldn’t trade being all in, even when it turned out that I couldn’t. This past year of training, loving, and supporting each other was worth every step I could and couldn’t take.

It was hard to be left behind.

Who wants to cry uncle? Not this aunt of the four who made it to the top. However, they might never have been inspired to do it, if we hadn’t done it first. Because we had stood on the summit before, they were determined to stand up there now. Because we knew what it took to get to the top, they were better equipped to get there too.

It was difficult to accept that my body wasn’t able to do what I thought I’d trained it to do.

Looking back on it now, I can see that by staying behind in basecamp we were actually leading the way. By modeling a mature response to loss and disappointment, maybe they will remember what that looks like when faced with their own inevitable losses and disappointments. Wisdom, it seems, is sometimes best gained through loss.

We are meant to pass the torch, and to find a new home for the truth that lives inside of us, so that it can live on without us.

Mt. Adams Summit: 2017

Mt. Adams Summit: 2022



Word Of The Day: RESILIENT 2.0

Over the next few weeks I will be focusing on a word of the day drawn from a list created at the beginning of January. Each word was chosen to serve as a guide to inspire and inform my steps through 2020. If you are just joining me now and want to look in on earlier posts on this topic, you will find links to each at the end.


Good writing, but a little too “self congratulatory” was my husband’s response after reading RESILIENT. In it I told the story of summiting and surviving an unexpected night on Mt. Adams. Tom is one of my most trusted feedback providers, and as such I work to listen with more curiosity than defensiveness. Always a growing edge for me.

This morning over coffee in the pre-dawn light, defensiveness won the first round. As a female, I was raised to keep my strengths, intelligence, and strong opinions under wraps. His comments about the tone of my post smacked of that early upbringing. He was told from his earliest years never to toot his own horn, and the tenor of my words sounded like boasting. Our morning heart-to-heart was a convergence of our early messaging. Curiosity eventually won the match, and our conversation evolved into all of the ways resilience can manifest in our lives, including the willingness to receive and reflect on feedback when it is of the more “constructive” nature.

Divorce, death of loved ones, financial hardship, broken trust, the loss of a job, unrealized dreams, failure in front of our peers, being passed over for a promotion, fighting injustice, crafting meaningful lives, taking on our own inner demons, fostering authentic relationships, strenuous exercise, living with debilitating health conditions, or the Seattle Seahawks losing a game they fought relentlessly to win. We are all daily surrounded with opportunities to practice being resilient. Some small, some large, and some that feel insurmountable. When we practice being resilient in the face of the small, the more equipped we are for the large, which is what readies us when faced with the seemingly insurmountable.

Onward.

(And for the recored, I am pretty damn proud of summiting and surviving an unexpected night on a mountain. Just sayin’)

Photo by Suliman Sallehi on Pexels.com

Photo by Suliman Sallehi on Pexels.com