“Song is not a luxury, but a necessary way of being in the world.” – Mark Nepo
This first mountain guide that I ever climbed with recited poetry. Not while we climbed but during breaks and when we were all gathered in the evening around the camp stove drinking hot drinks. I was not quite 30-years-old and eager to learn everything I could about climbing so the poetry stuck. And the rhythm of it while I climbed was so helpful when roped to others. Go too fast and the rope bunches up and makes it harder to avoid stepping on it. Go too slow and you tug on the person in front of you, throwing them off balance. High up on the mountain where the oxygen is thinner, the breath harder to catch, having a rhythm stuck in your head to move to works. The guide favored Robert Service poetry and I can still recite it, maybe even use it to find my internal rhythm in moments:
There’s a race of men who don’t fit in,
A race that can’t stand still.
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
A roam the world at will.
I’ve been thinking about stride a lot lately because I’m having trouble finding mine. Three weeks into getting my toddler into the rhythm of preschool, there was a teacher in-service day and school was cancelled. Now my 5-year-old is going to go to in-person Kindergarten for the first time starting in April but they are cancelling all remote classes for 3 days to prepare. And changing the start time for everyone, even the kids that are staying remote. And once they’ve been back to school for one week, then we are taking a week off for Spring Break. I totally get that starting back up a big school district is a huge task and acknowledge that they need to take the time. I’m just trying to figure out how to get my work done amidst the turbulence. This moment of re-entry, obstacles and challenges feels like the upper reaches of a mountain. My little family is like a roped-up team. It’s hard work and I feel like I can’t find my stride and it’s hard to breathe.
I’ve had plenty of moments in the mountains when I couldn’t find my stride either. And like with what I’m feeling right now, one of the biggest reasons is low-level worry and complaints like I’m tired, it’s windy, what are the tough conditions we’ll face ahead? But my time on mountains has taught me that I can take one step at a time until I find my stride. If I can replace the worry and complaints with a song, a mantra or a poem, I start loosening up and flowing again.
So I’m channeling my inner mountain guide as I meditate in the morning of these weeks knowing that if I can find my rhythm, I make it easier for all those on my rope team. Because we are all tied together and we’ll get to where we are going and face our obstacles as a team. I’d rather do that singing than worrying, dancing through one step at a time.
Surprised By Joy 