Most of us have felt desperate, lost, and helpless. Through my addictions, my losses, I have certaintly felt suffering, but lately I have been working to transmute the pain to find beauty, balance, and being in my life.
I suddenly found myself awake, having had a dream about my recently deceased father. I was surprised to see him. I knew it wasn't real. I shook off my sheets, rinsed off, I kept moving forward. As soon as I was alone in my car, tears shattered the peace, and moans of despair echoed in the small compartment. Like a blanket of wet, heavy snow on a thin branch, my grief covered me, shrunk my stature below its suffering cold. I just could not stop crying. The pain was far too real, and I was headed to work.
The commute was long, traffic longer, and I had so much time to sit in my wallowing. I finally arrived and gently resigned myself to service. I stepped into my supervisor's office strong, brushed off, but moments later I broke down in a chair covered in items, uncaring of the space, just needing to sit down and be supported. I couldn't do it. I could not resign myself to service today, I needed help. Graciously, I was allowed to leave to manage myself.
I immediately hurried off to get to a local yoga class, a safe space. I started to settle into my practice with sad thoughts gently rolling by like a thick fog. I was not longer heaped over and helpless, but gently moving through towards a clearing. I landed in my final resting posture. Woosh! A calm, powerful resolve came over me. I decidedly made my way to Blodgett Peak, a mountain a little Northwest of Colorado Springs.
Having never climbed the peak, but knowing my own personal capacity I started bush whacking, plowing towards the summit. The path I chose was thorny, incorrect and probably environmentally unfriendly, because the map made no clear instruction towards the summit. My stubborn resolve was showing, but the mountain quickly pushed back and directed me to a thick wood with steep trails winding towards the top. Humbled, I began to listen to what the path told me, and thoughtfully chose how to proceed rather than blindly pushing up.
I found a pace, and quickly ascended, resolved to have an experience to transform my pain into something other than. The pain transitioned to fear as I stepped out onto a large scree field. Boulders the size of mattresses, bears, and bowling balls wobbled on what felt like a near vertical slope. I felt doubt, dismay, and thought of turning back because the path forward taunted me with a seemingly endless slope of rock fall, the ridge moving backwards with each step. I paused for a moment. Looked out over the open space. Struck suddenly with beauty, with awe, my resolved returned like kindling suddenly bursting with flame. I've made it this far, why would I stop? I am nearer to the top than the bottom, I came here for the Earth and Sky. The sky is only moments away.
I arrived. Wandering up an exposed ridge, the wind screamed, my legs shook with fear from the foreboding edge. The fear felt like death, the edge, the line that we cross to never return. My father was with me now as the wind began to whisper rather than scream. I was now present in myself and my feet felt sure. The shaking stopped. I scrambled a little further to the summit.
I was now standing somewhere Between Earth and Sky, I sung out the song that repeated while I cried hopelessly in the car hours before. I screamed with the wind. I listened to the final words my father left me. These words were left to me the day he passed. They weren't particularly special, other than the words, "I'm just not feeling the best". I thought to myself, "no shit, dad". My strength faded as a felt myself firmly on the Earth, with the endless Sky around. I had lost my dad, but I hadn't lost any of the things he taught me. I hadn't lost his ultimate presence. We walked the Earth for as long as we could together, but now like the whipping of the wind my father stands at my back, a hand on my shoulder, and when I listen I can hear him whistle and point, "Go forward my Son, that's were your future lies, Between the Earth and Sky".
My energies were waning, and I started to realize my general unpreparedness for the descent. The rock field seemed more treacherous than before and the rocks seemed to shift often as I stepped stone to stone. The mountain I had started with a headfast resolve continued to humble me as my knees weakened and my ability to navigate the winding slopes of the mountain's valley crumbled. I found myself sliding, falling, but keeping my pace knowing the valley below would offer more sure ground, eventually.
Making it back to the main loop in the open space below the mountain, my thoughts returned to my grief. The pain was still there, the sadness of my loss still close up, large and looming, had not changed, but I changed. I changed. I knew that I was not helpless and with my own resolve I could navigate my grief like the mountains. Insurmountable as they may seem, a path forward is always available. Having felt my father's guiding hand at the top, I also realized the support I had outside of myself. My wife. My children. My communities. I did not need to always climb my mountains alone, but could open up like the sky and express myself, openly, like a sudden rainstorm, or gentle clouds floating by. Life is beautiful and we are meant to express our pains, and to let the world know that they too are not alone in the suffering. We are all here together Between the Earth and Sky.
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