One of the things I love about rock climbing is it proves to me, “I can do hard things.”  I’m 60, and I am astounded that I’m still getting out there on the rock, climbing up vertical faces. Rock-climbing is so engaging and the community so supportive that I am encouraged to reach for the next level in rock climbing. I try harder climbs on top rope, climb outside, and foray into lead climbing (where you drag the rope up behind you, securing it as you go).

Lead climbing is much scarier than top roping because you can fall further. So far, I have mostly “pinkpointed” my lead climbs, meaning I’m using quick draws left on the wall instead of placing my own before clipping the rope in.

But, yesterday?

Yesterday, I did a really hard thing–something I wanted to do in honor of my upcoming 61st birthday. (I was born in 1961, turning 61 seemed auspicious, and worthy of a challenge!)

First multi-pitch lead climb

I led my first multi-pitch climb, and I did it clean (no takes, no falls) and without pinkpointing! I climbed 180 vertical feet in two pitches. I carried the rope and draws up with me. I secured an anchor at the midpoint chains and belayed Jay from above (another thing I’d never done), all while on a hanging belay.

And, you know what? I cried. I was scared. Still, I knew this climb was well within my reach. I also knew it was okay to cry on the wall, so long as I kept my focus: one bolt at a time. I breathed slowly, grunted audibly, talked myself through the steps, and asked for help when I got stuck and rattled. The tears were free to flow.

Empowerment

Doing something that challenges me physically and mentally is good because it underscores an important message:  “I can do hard things.” (I love that meme!)

And just like traumatic experiences can be stored in the body, so, too, can successful challenges. Having my body store that message is particularly important as an awareness practitioner.

No question, rock climbing is hard. But, even harder, is to look inside and engage in self-inquiry, especially when you are feeling upset.

Getting triggered

I get triggered sometimes—who knows why? The triggering loop, often looks, at first, like righteous indignation: I know the “right” way, what’s wrong with you? (Fight) When I realize I am being righteous I am often flooded with shame and a desire to flee: Aaargh, I am a failure for getting triggered…again. (Flight)

Both perspectives are self-centered.

Being accountable for my happiness

To achieve peace, I need to get out of my head. I need to slow down and bring all my attention to this moment, breathe, and investigate my thinking. The tears are free to flow.

Ultimately, as an awareness practitioner, I want to be accountable for my own happiness. I want to unroot the source of my suffering. The source of suffering is tied to my thoughts about something. One of the hardest things to do when we are inflamed with finger-pointing surety or cowering from crippling shame is to question your thoughts. I have tools at my disposal—the quick draws and anchors of awareness practice–for doing so. I can turn to wise ones for help.

Investigating my thoughts

Byron Katie has a formula I can adopt. She says ask four questions about any thought:  Is it true? Can I absolutely know for sure that it is true?  How does it make me feel? Who would I be without that thought?

Cheri Huber reminds me that the thoughts I am battling are nothing more than “egocentric-karmic-conditioning-self-hate.” I don’t have to listen to them.

Eckhart Tolle tells me that getting triggered activates the “pain- body,” which has a life of its own. Tolle points out that pain body has no life if I don’t feed it energy with my attention.

Remembering “I can do hard things!”

These days, I whisper to myself, “It’s okay. Remember?  You can do hard things. You got this. One breath at a time. Come back to right here, right now. Investigate one thought at a time.”

What is the thought causing my suffering? How is it making me feel? What else might be true? 

My husband Jay calls it canyoneering on the inside. We secure ourselves to our awareness practice and rappel into the depths.

This morning I headed out to go jogging. I am notoriously bad at jogging. As I huffed and puffed my way across the terrain, feeling mildly sorry for myself, a happy thought came to mind:  Wait! I got this. I can do hard things!

(Photo Credit Chad Thompson)