SPAIN 10: So High, Solo

" . . . I just want to live my life, 'cause I want to, and I need to, so don't be trying to steal my light, 'cause you don't know me - don't pretend to.  I've been busy on my grind; just like you - I've been trying.  I've even shed a tear or two.  I swear to you - I'm not lying. . . . Sometimes I feel the world is after me. Trying to get to me.  Trying to stop what I do, 'cause I'm the only one who looks after me, can be me, and walk in my shoes. . . Everyday there is something that is new to me.  I just got to breathe - I don't know about you. . . . But it isn't easy being me... so, I'm going to do what I do.. . Keep on striving and surviving. . . Everybody has their own problems that they are going through.  I take it day by day; that’s the only thing that I can do.  So, I’ll live for me and you live for you. You can’t know me unless you’ve walked in my shoes. . ." ~ Walk in My Shoes

It has been two weeks since my last post.  So, why the break in writing?  Well, let’s just say that someone thanked me for one of the quotes that I chose, and it added some weight to what I considered to be a very bad decision . . . That quickly, the power of what I wrote became a reality.  The wind instantly withdrew from my sail, and I haven't written since.  It’s a fickle thing the wind.  I have a half written Easter Celebration blog that I could finish and post, and perhaps I still will, but this one needs to be written first.  'With great power, comes great responsibility.' Thank you, Ben Parker for that nugget of wisdom.  No matter what I write - it is not my responsibility how others translate it.  The people will chant for blood, and I must give it to them.  But I wash my hands of it. 

I remember when we were kids my brother and I made leaf boats down by the creek. We would place them in the stream, and watch as they raced toward the bridge.  First boat to cross won! Occasionally, they would get off track, hit a twig, or simply start to slow down.  You couldn't touch them with your hand, but you could blow into the sail.  You hoped that that extra gust of air would give it the edge that it needed to get back in the stream, catch up, and cross the bridge for the win.  How many times have I played pool and the ball will be a hair away from dropping into the hole, and I would blow on it? Don't judge me! You know you've done it too! Or another example, when you set up dominoes and you miscalculate how they will fall and one doesn’t get hit, and your masterpiece falters - a little breath keeps the line going.  Sometimes I get stuck on something small, I get out of the current, or I misjudge the track that I have set up.  Usually when this happens I depend on others to give me that little burst of energy that I need to get back in the swing of things and continue on. . .

Finally, the rain has stopped! Six days straight of downpour; resulting in cabin fever. On my last solo hike, a week ago, I forgot my water bottle at the top of the first hill in Los Riscos (the cliffs).  Retrieving it has given me a great excuse to escape.  I can't wait to get out of the house! I'm stale, grumpy, and ready to punch someone.  I race out of the house with nothing but the clothes on my back and the shoes on my feet.  No whistle, no dog tag, no provision, or water.  There wasn't a moment to waste.  I followed the creek to the foot of the hill, wrestled my way over the fence, and climbed up the now dry river bed.  Anger, rebellion, and self-righteousness, all of which I allowed to accumulate this week, boiled within me.  My mission: to find my water bottle.  My path: of highest resistance.  There is an easier way to get to the top, but that isn't an option today.  I have something to prove and adrenaline to fuel me.  Normally I am afraid of heights, but today fear is a nuisance that I don't have time to bother with.  Any other day I would look up a hill to find the easiest, safest, and yet most direct path possible. Today, I need a punching bag, and the mountain drew the short straw.  The blue sky holds it back - leaving its belly exposed to my first blow.  It draws in its breath and braces itself, as I rush in . . .

I am Ms. Responsible.  I take into consideration the thoughts, and concerns of my family, friends, and loved ones while making a decision.  Today, I rebel and it feels good.  For a fleeting moment, thoughts of how I am going to explain myself to those back home cross my mind, but right now I am first, and this is more important.  If it is steep, jagged, and too high for comfort - it is getting climbed.  I tackle my first cliff with fervor.  I make sure that I have three points of contact.  Hand.  Foot.  Hand.  I pull myself up.  Foot.  I only look forward.  My adrenaline is still racing as I swing myself onto the top.  The mountain doesn't care where I am from, what religion I am, or how I pronounce banana.  It is simply glad that I paid a visit.  I race toward the next mound.  I attack.  Kicking my foot into a crumbling mess of dirt and rock, I place the opposite foot onto a small lip; I stretch out my arm to feel for an unseen place holder.  I close my eyes allowing my fingertips to draw pictures in my mind.  I feel an inch of jagged rock and my fingers curve around it.  I hold my breath.  Slowly exhaling I pull myself up; my other arm outstretched blindly reaching for the next grip.  I find it.  I look on.  One. Two. Three.  I slowly, methodically, climb the wall with surprising ease.  It is amazing what you can do when you lack fear. My body presses tightly against the rock, my arms and legs stretch out beyond their limit, and I make my first mistake.  I look down.  My heart pounds loudly in my ears, my breath quickens, and my knees start to shake.  Deep breath.  Mind over matter.  Redirecting my adrenaline; I press forward. Calm.  Assertive.  Reaching far above my head I place my hand in a crevice and begin the routine search.  Snake!!!  My biggest fear now reality.  I slip. One hand gripping the rock, one foot dangling, and one foot left with previous poor placement.  I look down and I think, 'At least I won't die if I fall. Just a broken arm or leg.  I can deal with that.'  The snake was probably more surprised and scared than I was at this point.  Reassess the situation.  Breathe.  I narrow my eyes in determination.  I grip the rock with confidence.  I continue on.  Just me, the mountain, and the air around me.  I am content, and grateful as I press my anger into the rock.  The mountain allows my frustration to seep in, and in return it gives me understanding and acceptance.  It tells a story; and I am happy to listen, learn, and receive. 

At the top, I take a deep breath, turn, and stand on the edge triumphant.  I snort my nose with pride as I look down the cliff I just conquered.  An eerie sense of old spirits roam these hills, and only now do I notice the rocks forming threshing circles, the rock walls that could only be formed by human hands, and the grinding wheel so mysteriously placed amongst the other boulders.  At any moment I expect hill people adorned in wolf skins, with painted faces, and crude spears to surround me. ‘Pay attention! You are being watched,’ a voice whispers.  I squint against the sun and nonchalantly scan the horizon for whoever was invading my solitude.  One hill over I spot dark silhouettes strategically placed, on guard, aware of this intruder.  Each one perched perfectly, ten feet from one another, gazing down at me, and letting me know, 'We see you.  We are here.'  I don't feel threatened, and I guess I shouldn't - they are just goats after all! I smile in recognition.  

I believe in God, but I am still human.  This belief has set me on a pedestal that I didn't ask for, but am learning to accept.  As a human I still have negative emotions.  It is how I respond to these emotions that sets me apart.  I have been accused of running away from my problems, taking the easy way out, and shirking my responsibilities.  I may have 'run away' to find myself.  I may have left you all back at home to figure it out for yourself.  That doesn’t make me any less human.  ‘If you prick me, do I not bleed? If you tickle me, do I not laugh? If you poison me, do I not die?’ – The Merchant of Venice.  I may be on a ‘little vacation’.  I may have chosen the more ‘boring’ way to travel, but this is my life and the path I have chosen.  I may not have control over where the place holders are in the cliff, or what I get stuck on in the stream, but I will choose my response, control my pulse and my breath. . .

Today, I send my love and thanks to the mountain, and its ‘people’.  Thank you, Los Riscos, for not judging me. I appreciate your grace, and ability to take a beating.  I receive your Agape love, but mostly I thank you for teaching me to be still and listen.

This moment I kneel down, place my hands on my knees, and lean forward over the river of life.  Pursing my lips in the direction of my boat; I let my breath fill my sail, urging me forward, and back into the current.   

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4xYsxV22Lw