Journal Entry: July 15, 2009
Tonight I am sitting here after a full day of rock climbing, realizing that how I approach my aspirations and dreams is an important reflection of who I am. Climbing has always been a great way for me to explore my personal journey of leadership mastery. And I got to thinking about the opportunities this day presented to experience and practice some of the qualities of my inner wisdom leader.
This particular climb illustrated the way creative or spiritual endeavors often begin for me. Some seemingly absurd idea appears from left field, which is not totally out of keeping with my character. I had a belly full of fire to do this. My desire was strong and my conviction clear. I felt some trepidation but decided I would give my confidence time to build.
I had not climbed anything substantial in eight years and was hesitant, as my 55-year-old body is much more sensitive to pain and the limits of its capabilities than it was 20 years ago. My skin is thinner and more crinkled than I would like. My muscles are not as strong, but my muscle memory and desire to strive and push my limits remain as strong as it ever. I knew from experience that perseverance is often just the thing to get me through anything.
I had prepared for this moment by practicing for a few hours at a rock-climbing gym. I wanted a base line, to confirm that my body could still move fluidly and my spirit still yearned for this experience. Now I was doing the real thing. I felt excited as my hands touched the granite. It connected with me with the desire to resume something I remembered I loved doing; something that made my passion stir and my warrior heart beat stronger.
This inner leadership journey involved eight hours of sustained climbing up Two Owls, a craggy rock face outside Colorado’s Rocky Mountain State Park. At day’s end, my back is sore, my muscles fatigued, and my hands and knees are scraped and bleeding. But do I feel fantastic!
Why? Because I have just completed two respectable climbs that spanned over 800 feet of vertical exposed rock with nothing below me but air. This might not be such an impressive accomplishment for others, but for me, it is thrilling because it is the same level of climbing I enjoyed more than two decades ago. Yeah! I still have it! I’m mentally doing a victory dance. I propelled myself to rise above my doubts and fears – to show up and stay fully present. I got out of my comfort zone and tested myself, despite the risk of failing and losing face. I had gumption! I believed in myself and chose to ignore any stereotypes of what is possible and appropriate for a “woman my age” to do or not do.
I am overjoyed by the fact that I have not become anxious and whiny, hesitant, or fallen prey to second-guessing myself. I hardly notice the bloody cuts, scrapes, and bruises because I realize they are small consequence of the benefit and the privilege of doing what I just did. I know these “red badges of courage” on my skin are minor irritations and routine occurrences in my chosen activity; nothing to fuss about. I remind myself that “good leaders are resilient.”
These days, it is easy to second-guess myself. The economy sucks. Investors and clients are unpredictable. I have no idea what challenges and hard knocks tomorrow is going to bring. I need to remember to stay focused in my convictions, focus on what is important to me, and trust that my gifts and talents will make significant contributions to others. I can’t let the setbacks get me down or hesitate to wonder if I am on the right path. I trust that my life purpose has heart, energy, and meaning. In the same way I approach my climb, I remember my life goal: to do my best in something that I love that has energy, meaning, and purpose – something that nourishes my spirit.
I don’t consider myself an accomplished or serious rock climber. I am more of a dancer who loves dancing on rocks and being up high in the air. Being on the face of the rock feels as though I am dancing with the ancestors of the earth. And I sing up there, “I circle around, I circle around, the boundaries of the earth. Wearing my long wing feather as I fly, wearing my long wing feathers as I fly, I circle around; I circle around, the boundaries of the earth.” It is my ceremony, this dance I do with the rock; ancient and primordial. It is not without fear or risk, but still I dance.
Looking back, it is always how I have lived – performing the dance of the soul, letting my heart guide me and being open to outcomes, while not attached to any specific outcomes. This quality of non-attachment is crucial for a leader today. In these times we must have the far-sighted vision to steer a steady course towards the future we envision. And we must also be flexible in shifting to any number of creative new and alternative strategies that still allow us to move forward.
The first two moves of a rock climb always seem to me to be the hardest. I have always wondered about this. It is the only time I am ever truly anxious and tense. What if I’m not good enough to even get off the ground? I know that someday I won’t be able to get off the ground, but today is not going to be that day. Today, my mind, body, spirit, emotions, and all other factors and energies, both seen and unseen, came together to support me as I progressed up the rock face.
Once I am off the ground, halfway to the top of the exposed granite face and high above the valley below, I can take a deep breath. I feel blessed to be up among the lichen and birds soaring by on the wind. Here, I am keenly aware of my surroundings and my guide and my partner. From the solid feel of the rock and the sound of the wind whipping through my clothes to the warmth of my sunbaked cheeks and the tug of the rope around my waist, I feel utterly connected and aware. I watch intently as the guide thoughtfully prepares the anchors and ensures proper procedures. His temperament is calm, focused, and sure. I’m enjoying the journey even as I’m paying acute attention to the details.
My partner is a little more skittish. He’s much stronger than I, but much less experienced and hasn’t yet learned to tame the fear that wells up from your bowels and trembles through your whole body when you are perched on a tiny ledge up this high. I try to get him to get his nose out of the rock and turn around to enjoy the view. He thinks I’m teasing him but I’m not. I want him to enjoy every element of this experience: the beautiful vistas and feeling of connection with everything around us. He tries, but turns back towards the rock, much happier to commune with what is right in front of his face. His enjoyment will come later, after he is has completed the climb and can bask in the satisfaction of his accomplishments.
He lets go of his fear long enough to make some acute observations about me, though. “I forget what a hard little nut you are until we get outdoors,” he says. “And I think I have you figured out. You aren’t afraid to die, you are just afraid to fail.”
I smile. He almost has it right. When I’m in the moment, with my desire riding high to do something I love, I will do whatever it takes. I stay present and focused and will persevere regardless of the irritations that stand in my way. And I will take the time to look around, observe, connect, and enjoy myself. I am not hesitant or afraid of what will happen next. I experience my climb as a celebration. I am living a life of inspiration and passion.
Failure is always a possibility, but it signifies that we at least showed up and tried. The disappointment of a well-attempted failure always fades, replaced by the wisdom earned through the experience. Cuts and scabs will heal; the scars are reminders of noble efforts and courageous dreaming. But not to be able to try to push my limits, to be hindered from striving to experience something I love and desire would be soul-crushing.
Postscript:
Almost a decade after I wrote this journal entry, I climbed Devil’s Tower, a monolith in Wyoming I had wanted to climb ever since I saw it in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” It was always a dream in the back of my mind that wouldn’t let go. Your passion, dreams, and fire can be powerful allies in accomplishing many things you never thought you could do. I’m buying a new pair of climbing shoes this month and hoping to still break stereotypes about “women our age.” I’ll let you know how it goes.
Dreaming and striving are both important throughout our lives to healing and wholeness. Where are you doing these in your life?
What is your fire today and how do you keep it alive?
How can you encourage someone else today to go after their vibrant dreams?