“Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” – T.S. Eliot

I just took care of my kids for 11 days without a break. Turns out that was two days too long. It was fine -we had lots of fun activities with our family and friends, new Christmas toys to play with and even two nights away at a cabin on the water. But without taking some intentional time to myself to take an hour’s walk alone or just sit on a bench and listen to sounds around me that wasn’t my kids’ voices, I hit my limit of tolerating chaos, my patience was thin and I didn’t have any of my usual zest for the experience.

Being pushed to the limit makes me think of the judgment calls mountain guides have to make on a climb. The ones that I’ve climbed with are very good at assessing an individual’s physical and mental state and making that call whether to push through or turn back.

On a five-day expedition climb of Mt. Rainier that I once did, there was a team member who when we did the group introduction said that he’d come from St. Louis, hadn’t worked out in preparation and was there for the most painful experience of his life. Then he disappeared for a few minutes while we were all packing up and returned with a chili dog. Just the thought of a chili dog in my gut as I cinched down the waist belt on my pack made me a little queasy.

When we left the lodge at 5,400 feet altitude for a five-hour climb to our camp for the night, the climber from St. Louis fell behind right away. A guide stayed with him and started the process of understanding his limits as I’ve seen practiced in the mountains several times.

Guides start by asking how you are doing to gauge a sense of your mental state and attitude. In between the lines of answers like “I just got a stitch in my side”, “I didn’t sleep well last night” or “I just can’t seem to get it together” are clues about how the climber is feeling about the journey.

Then they slow the pace down for the climber or take an extra break to see if that will help restore the equilibrium. I’ve often wondered why they don’t just turn people around right away if it seems to be a problem. But sometimes just a few minutes of rest can change the attitude from “I can’t” to “I can.”

And then, if someone is still struggling, the guide will walk the climber to the base. I’m know this is a safety thing to not leave people wandering around a mountain trying to get back but it’s always struck me as a beautiful act of kindness to walk someone home when they are done.

The climber from St. Louis hit his limit pretty early on that first day of climbing and turned back about three hours in. I never saw him again so I don’t know whether it was the chili dog or approaching the trip as the most painful experience ever that did him in.

As we face this new week, new month and new year, I think about the guides’ formula for understanding our limits: talking through how we feel, slowing down and take a rest and if necessary, having someone walk us safely back to the base when we have reached our limit so that we can climb again another day. It gives me inspiration for not only knowing when I’ve had enough but guiding others through theirs.

Sometimes we have to carry on in spite of our limits – like I had to my kids because the unusual Seattle snow hampered the breaks that I had planned. It worked out fine but I learned once again to respect the balance of life, pushing my limits and also finding a way back to home base when I’ve reached them.