They originally told me it was going to be like a nature hike.
Yeah, nature hike my @ss…it was more like a full-fledged mountain climb without the proper equipment or Sherpa to guide the way.
At first I thought, "I’m strong. I’ll probably be to the top before any one of these guys." So, I wrapped what little dreads I had in a bandana and dug my nails into the earth. And honestly, I felt like a pro….well, for about twenty minutes I felt like one. Once my initial "gung-ho, let’s do this b*tch" energy had been exhausted I was close enough to the ground where I could still see my car, but high enough where I had stripped off three layers of clothing and drank half my water supply. Either way, it was least an hour to the top or bottom of this mini-Mount Everest, rock from Hell. So, feeling frustrated and not really knowing what to do, I did the only thing that one can do when their muscles and lungs declare, "No man, not gonna happen, no". I sat and rested. It might have been just a couple of minutes to fish an elusive piece of granite out of my boot, but it was long enough to evaluate my situation, see where I was, and where I wanted to be. Once the surprisingly small pebble was found, I continued upward. Not without other obstacles, though. I found myself needing to stop and rest after I blindly put my faith in a weak tree branch; after I accidentally placed my hand in a local’s nest; and after I was taunted by my more experienced rock climbing friends on their way back down to the car. Well, several periods of rest (and curses) later I made it to the top, lit up some herbals (yeah, I used to get my "hey man" on back in the day….don’t act so innocent) and just sat with no plans on making an immediate decent. As I looked over the fiery autumn horizon I thought, "Screw them, I got the keys."
I haven’t been rock climbing since then, but in a lot of ways I’m facing mountains that are of greater proportions and come with some of the same obstacles. The rock I’m sitting on right now is a kitchen remodeling project. I still have no Sherpa as I’m doing most of the work myself (for the first time), my weak tree branch has been shady contractors who look at the job in terms of how much they can squeeze out of my wallet rather than the work I need done, my snake has been the local building inspector who is more concerned with catching me doing something wrong than telling me the right way to go about things when asked, and my friends…well, lets just say some people have a lot of lip service while others shine when it’s crunch time. Now I sit here experiencing the same feelings I did when I was stuck in the middle of that rock, except muscles I didn’t know I even had are now expressing their discomfort. (How the in hell do you pull a butt cheek?) And as I sit here trying not to awaken my childhood asthma by inhaling airborne plaster, sawdust, and lead paint I think about the one thing that comforts me when I feel I want throw my hands up in the air and scream, "F*ck it!!!" It’s the lesson I took back from rock climbing.
When taking on a new task one of the most important tools one can have is patience. There are some mountains that are not meant to be scaled in one day. Sometimes to succeed, there is a point where you need to stop, rest, and then continue.
Yeah, nature hike my @ss…it was more like a full-fledged mountain climb without the proper equipment or Sherpa to guide the way.
At first I thought, "I’m strong. I’ll probably be to the top before any one of these guys." So, I wrapped what little dreads I had in a bandana and dug my nails into the earth. And honestly, I felt like a pro….well, for about twenty minutes I felt like one. Once my initial "gung-ho, let’s do this b*tch" energy had been exhausted I was close enough to the ground where I could still see my car, but high enough where I had stripped off three layers of clothing and drank half my water supply. Either way, it was least an hour to the top or bottom of this mini-Mount Everest, rock from Hell. So, feeling frustrated and not really knowing what to do, I did the only thing that one can do when their muscles and lungs declare, "No man, not gonna happen, no". I sat and rested. It might have been just a couple of minutes to fish an elusive piece of granite out of my boot, but it was long enough to evaluate my situation, see where I was, and where I wanted to be. Once the surprisingly small pebble was found, I continued upward. Not without other obstacles, though. I found myself needing to stop and rest after I blindly put my faith in a weak tree branch; after I accidentally placed my hand in a local’s nest; and after I was taunted by my more experienced rock climbing friends on their way back down to the car. Well, several periods of rest (and curses) later I made it to the top, lit up some herbals (yeah, I used to get my "hey man" on back in the day….don’t act so innocent) and just sat with no plans on making an immediate decent. As I looked over the fiery autumn horizon I thought, "Screw them, I got the keys."
I haven’t been rock climbing since then, but in a lot of ways I’m facing mountains that are of greater proportions and come with some of the same obstacles. The rock I’m sitting on right now is a kitchen remodeling project. I still have no Sherpa as I’m doing most of the work myself (for the first time), my weak tree branch has been shady contractors who look at the job in terms of how much they can squeeze out of my wallet rather than the work I need done, my snake has been the local building inspector who is more concerned with catching me doing something wrong than telling me the right way to go about things when asked, and my friends…well, lets just say some people have a lot of lip service while others shine when it’s crunch time. Now I sit here experiencing the same feelings I did when I was stuck in the middle of that rock, except muscles I didn’t know I even had are now expressing their discomfort. (How the in hell do you pull a butt cheek?) And as I sit here trying not to awaken my childhood asthma by inhaling airborne plaster, sawdust, and lead paint I think about the one thing that comforts me when I feel I want throw my hands up in the air and scream, "F*ck it!!!" It’s the lesson I took back from rock climbing.
When taking on a new task one of the most important tools one can have is patience. There are some mountains that are not meant to be scaled in one day. Sometimes to succeed, there is a point where you need to stop, rest, and then continue.
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