The Mountains Inside

Glory
My mind and I say it’s a good day to hike. So I drive the pass, put on my gear; it’s ok if others pass me on the hike; I’m here to do my best. Setting myself up for the low goal, whatever my mind says is the best for that day—prepping myself for a meme-friendly easy out—that participation award.

Strap my boots, and start the hike; I know this is hard, but hard is relative in Jackson. The hike is 1,600 feet of vertical gain on a 45-degree boot back, with a decent amount of weight on my pack.

I feel the burn of my lungs, the complaint of my legs, my mind telling me stories of how cool it is; I’m doing a Jackson thing; I will post about it on Instagram and have others think I’m cool.

My legs begin to burn, my chest tight; this is not an easy hike, I remind myself, it will not be easy. But, my mind, beginning to change its mind, don’t forget that good enough is good enough, and I get to decide that.
You gave it a try, and I’m proud of you for that, my mind says.

I keep going, my legs burn more, the weight of the pack pulling on my shoulders. Finally, the pretty exterior of the stories begins to waver, and it’s where I start to face myself, the real stories in my mind. The subconscious belief I have of myself, these are the stories that create “to what extent is good enough, keeping me in the negative worthless subconscious self-talk.

“Look at all these people passing you; they are athletes and fit; you are not; why are you doing this. You suck, this is painful, you are not this kind of person, give up, we did enough.”

At this point, I’ve let some people pass at the stopping rock, not even 1/3 the way up. Maybe this is why I go alone, no witness other than me to my self-worth and belief system. It’s easier to quit on yourself when no one is watching. I don’t have the look of disappointment as my girlfriend waits for me above, eyes reminding me she is better than I am. I think she hikes with me so she can feel better than me. It lets her feel like the superior athlete. At the same time, making sure I know I am slow. Poli Poli, slowly sowly.

I tell myself, ok, let’s make it to the next stopping spot, already giving up on a summit. So I’m moving really slow, mainly at war with myself.

I remember the first time I started listening to myself, really listening to myself. My mind was so well hidden in the neverending white noise of chatter and music. Meditation is an amazing thing.
The hidden voice behind the narrative of my story, the shadow story to who I am, and what I am capable of. I am a slave to this hidden narrative, and I don’t even realize it.

I finally saw it on this hill. I heard it; I felt it. It was as if a stranger had been following me my whole life, invisible, whispering.

You are so slow, dead weight, a sack of potatoes. Just turn around. Who do you think you are? You are not good enough; you are not athletic; you are not and will not be capable of this kind of strength. This is too hard for you; you heifer! you are not worth this much effort; go home. You did enough. Just quit!

Half the way up Glory, I heard and saw a part of me that had been hidden so deep. It is here that I strip myself, my mind naked. I’m facing the ugly truth of what I think of myself.
No one wants to look at themselves that close; seeing this side was a shock to my system. To believe that was me, inside saying these things. There is so much ugly and pain behind that invisible shadow, the one that thinks so little of me that is so willing to give up on me.

I will warn you, once you see it, really listen and feel it, it’s tough to unsee.

This voice, this shadow, was the K2 of my mind; little did I know it was more of an iceberg; I had just seen the tip, so much more had been buried under the surface. Buried by the pleasing smile, everything is fine; I’m ok, nothing upsetting here. Don’t open that door; it’s not pretty; people won’t like you if you go there, worse they will ignore you. Focus on the positive; you are doing better than most.

I turn around, giving up on myself, going back to the cheerful little voice in my head, you did good enough. But I saw the demon in my mind, that said ” though shall not pass” I was scared, confused, and hurt. Where did it come from, the answer just under the surface of that iceberg, visible and distorted.

I have two choices, I can try and hide, or I can face it, I wanted to hide.

Chapture 2

My shadows shady past.

I had started meditating perhaps six months earlier. I have been a yoga instructor for about eight years, but still, meditation was not a large part of the practice, though traditionally, it’s 99% of the practice.

A few months before my dive into meditation, I decided something needed to change, and It was not going to be my location, I was over packing up and moving whenever life got hard.

I had spent my life running, thinking changing location would bring me to a better place. Perhaps if I moved to Montana, things would work out for me; I would find a great job and an awesome boyfriend. I was 36/37 at this time. And I had been running my whole life. Hawaii, Europe, ski town after ski town, Moab, the Caribbean, on the outside an adventurer, on the inside running.
I had been debating moving to Montana, but something in me was saying, no, not this time. Maybe some maturity, or the fear of being too old for this lifestyle, I had perfected survival, and I didn’t want to just survive anymore.

I can’t remember where I got the idea, perhaps a book; thank goodness I read a lot. But it hit me that maybe it’s not the places, perhaps it’s me. The same things repeatedly happen in new locations, and I am the common denominator.
Whatever was going through my mind, I had realized my current pattern was not working. And I had decided to try something different, because what if it was me? Science says I am the only constant variable. It’s a rare thing, to decide to take ownership of the ongoing of your life, and stop blaming others.

I heard a reel recently, that said, “real change happens when you get tired of your shit.” The thing is, you don’t realize it is your shit until you step away from it.

I added so many things to my life during this time: I read books every morning, meditated, ate well, listened to podcasts, and used them to find more books. I was learning and learning a lot. I’d take in any form of mentor I could, and in this day in age, I had a whole internet of mentors, both dead and alive.

I started Journaling; Journaling is a way for my brain’s right side and left side to communicate. I stumbled into emotions I had suppressed for years. Memories, experiences, things I never let myself feel or process were beginning to bubble up. Journaling gave these an avenue to be expressed, from memory to thought and then often my body, not always in that order. Often Journaling would end with me up in a ball of tears, finally letting myself feel a pain that had accrued, someplace in my past.

Meditation gave me the space to watch myself, to listen to my thoughts, to become aware of the neverending chain of chatter I had trained myself to ignore.

After unearthing it, I wanted to hide from my Shadow. There is pain, shame, and blame; I did not want to open that door; I did not want to acknowledge how my Shadow grew; I did not want to relive those experiences, to feel those suppressed emotions.

I did not have the tools or the courage to face my Shadow. But I knew It had to be done.

As with any warrior’s journey, they never start out having the tools to defeat the monster. In the journey, the tools are found, the mentors unveiled themselves and lessons learned, the friendships and allies made. I had started the journey; what kind of story would it be if Frodo gave up the first time he saw the “Eye” of Sauron, or if Luke Sky Walker quit after his first encounter with Darth Vader in The Battle of Yavin. (Brad would love that reference) . But the warrior, the hero of the tail, does not know that at the time; that is why he is courageous; he/she has Faith that the tools and skills he/her needs will be learned on the way. They continue on the journey with Faith, forward with hope. We don’t understand that the universe will guide us give us the tools and the mentors we need. Both good and bad. The force, Universal energy, Faith, whatever you may call it.

I had met my Shadow in one part of my life, but I recognized it now; I had begun to train myself to hear it. And little did I realize it had been following me everywhere and for a long time.
In every part of my life, whispering sweet poison in my mind. In my friendships, my work environments, on the yoga mat, in the mirror, in my relationships, the bedroom. This Shadow of mine had eclipsed my life. I was in my shade, and I did not see it.

Within my friendships, whispering, they don’t like you; they don’t want you here, they are talking about you behind your back.

With my work, They think you are shit, you don’t work hard, and no one likes you, oh and you are fat and ugly, they are all saying that.

The yoga studio, you are a fraud, you are not skinny enough, you don’t know enough, who do you think you are? They all see it; they all doubt you. Look at her; she has nicer things; she must be better than you. Look at them. They are judging you as fat and ugly.

Every one of these has a seed that was planted in reality, an experience that was had, that created an identity I hid away; I suppressed, did not speak about, or allow myself to feel. Thousands of little experiences ignored, suppressed, buried deep, manifested into this creature, this shadow, that was in its way, controlling my life. Me, the unaware puppet of my trauma.

Look in the mirror at yourself naked and listen to what you say about yourself; that’s a fast way to get a glimpse of your Shadow. Or get blackout drunk and record yourself, happy, sad, ego, asshole, bully, fearful, insecure; needy; that’s another way to get a glimpse. Try something new and suck at it, try and be vulnerable, all ways to see a glimpse of your shadow.

But the real way is to listen, to watch, allow yourself to be honest beyond belief, and utter acceptance of all the possibilities of yourself. To acknowledge where it shows up in your life, and accept it. To do the work there, to find a better way. When it is triggered, let it, and be present for it, nonjudgemental, and learn.

So no more bullshit, distractions, lies, running, drugs, alcohol, distractions, made-up drama, diving into production at work.

I saw the tip of the iceberg that is myself I’ve been running from, and it hated me.

How the hell have I been living my life this way? How have I not heard it before? I felt it, anxiety and depression, lack of self-worth, This is what I’ve been running from and why I never seemed to be able to escape, it was in me all along. And Just like on Glory, every new location, my mind would tell me, what a fun adventure, until things settled down and the hard part of pushing through life’s challenges arrived.

I would use these hills; this would be my battlegrounds. Not a battle of hate, but of one of sheer acceptance, and forgiveness beyond belief. Me against me, winner takes all.

Be small, don’t take up too much space, don’t be too much, keep it in. Be what they like and approve of. Be the cool girl; laugh it off as if it does not hurt. Don’t criticize, don’t stand up for your self-worth, don’t stand up for others. And for god’s sake don’t tell anyone how you really feel. If you do, it might show them their insecurities, where they could improve, what they are doing wrong. And they will hate you for that.

They will find someone that only reflects what they want to see. You can call it less, you can call it different, but it will not be you.

It is up to you to decide what matters more, you or them wanting you.

For the longest time, our lives depended on having a man/ boy/male; it was instinct to keep them happy and wanting you. So women were trained and praised for being meek and quiet.
Our lives depended on it.

So much buried in this, so much of my mental makeup was this.
Trained to seek approval.

I am 40, single, never married, and have no children—a string of boyfriends in my past, lessons, and reflections on self-worth.

I thank god or my mother for whatever iron in my soul. My adventure spirit was always stronger than the desire for a boyfriend, husband, white picket fence 2.5 kids. My life never went that direction, and I never had a craving for it, to the point of almost revolution at it.

The internal fight of who the world says I should be and the person I want to be.

But the training was in place. Be less, never be more than them; it makes them insecure.
So a lifetime of amazing feats was dismissed in my mind. I never took them on as part of who I was. They made me too much. As I lived in a world of trying to be less than I was, trying to impress those that would quickly put me down if I showed more. A delicate balancing act of approval.

“How dare you make me second guess what I am doing with my life? How dare you remind me that I could be more, but I’m not putting effort into it; I am too scared of failure.”

How much of myself put me here in this cycle, my internal belief that I was not worth more, kept me with people that would reinforce this belief. My fear and the opinion that I was not worth more were reinforced by expecting more from those who were not capable of it. My mind is creating the loop, not seeing the difference.
But still, inside, the adventurer. She was fearless, still is fearless. I dismissed her because she made weak men insecure.

I second-guessed her, the amazing woman in me; I did not believe in her; I made her doubt herself over and over. I told her she was wrong that she should settle down be consistent; she was scaring the people in her life. My mother’s voice in my head, not understanding this wild creature that is her daughter—feeling a criminal as myself, at war with my life.

The tug of war between what I should be and who I am.

Be less; you are scaring them. You make them look at their lives and question.
You don’t know it, but they are comparing themselves to you. So you make them reflect on who they are, and they don’t like it.

Be Cinderella, be Sleeping Beauty; they don’t make men question. Don’t be Peter Pan, don’t be Sinbad. Be all of them if you want; make their head spin.

The long journey, inside. Looking at the labels others had given me, The labels I had fought against most of my life, an invisible war against the past, others peoples projections of insecurities. Who was I trying to prove myself to, That I am not these things you say I am, For another day, another story.

But for now, I will spend some time celebrating the wild woman in me, the adventurer, the fearless creature. She surrounds herself with people who encourage her; their uniqueness is not threatened. But look on with smiles and encouragement at something brave enough to be different because they are not comparing themselves to her. Instead, they love themselves for their unique journey. And can love others on theirs.

And I will finally stop comparing her to others, letting go of the war inside, to fit in, to be approved of by others. Never felt like I was enough but constantly worried I was too much. Let go of the desire to be what others think, and trust the woman in me to find joy as herself.

I will own myself, my bigness, I will understand not everyone is meant to live this way, and your life is beautiful however it is, as long as happiness is in your heart. And your life is what you desire it to be. You are brave enough to be you and not compare yourself to others.

Who Am I? I will own these as labels I choose for myself. Fearlessly! Others can put labels on me; I will determine if I accept these.

I feared that someone would second guess a label; I gave myself as if they had the power to take them away. Others give me labels; they can take them away.

I own myself; I choose who I want to be and who I am; I put in the work. I give myself these labels as both a reward and a goal. I decide who I am.

Entrepreneur- business owner- land owner- developer- sommelier, investor, writer- poet- artist- yoga instructor- Snowboarder- mountain biker- extreme sport athlete- class 5 multi day river guide, beginner surfer- world explorer- artist- cook extortionate- pilot- survivor- daring- loving, kind compassionate- friend- daughter- sister, builder, creative- strong beautiful- sexy- lover- dancer- energy worker-emotional maturity and expression- Woman

All of these have stories; all of these are things I might have squeaked and passed off as nothing much of a thing I had done. It was no big deal, never taking pride in myself; it made others uncomfortable. I plan to breathe into these labels, these ideas of who I am, and I plan to make them grow. I want to add more; I want to be more.

I will say it takes a lot to be me. And I will have to be a lot to succeed!
I have to be too much to succeed! I might take that one on, and I am too much. But, as I know, I can never be too much for those that can not get enough of me.

Labels I want to add.

Successful-
I think, for now, I want to breathe into my labels; I want to give them life and encourage them within.
The amount of effort it takes to be a lot, I will walk into that, own it. And take pride in it. Not fear it, not shy away, and give each the time and effort it needs. While getting good sleep.