the confines of fear

My dad has a painting of Smith Rock and this year it’s been sitting against the wall in my apartment where I see it every day. I’ve been staring at this painting since I was little, and my dad told me years and years ago “You know, you could climb that.” After all this time, I did climb there- it was mind blowing.

In rock climbing, leading a new route can be the most exciting thing to look forward to. There’s a huge element of risk because you’re responsible for your own fate. Most of it at least- we’ll say you’re responsible for 60% of it and then your belayer takes the other 40%. You climb free to the first bolt, slap a quickdraw on it and pull your rope through the carabiner. Do this with one hand, while hanging on for dear life with the other. And it has to be done right! So it’s sketchy! Which is why it’s so awesome and why it can suck so much simultaneously!

So I’m climbing up the face of this huge slab (5.9 rating- gah!) and I get 3 bolts from the top after 30 minutes of clipping into bolts, holding the rope in my teeth, stressing, but just loving it. My toes are barely stable at the end of my last bolt and the next one is still 2 feet above my head, and all that there is to hold onto is…well, nothing essentially. How do people climb this stuff?? I analyzed the chalk markings left by previous conquerors and knew exactly what I had to do, but I hesitated, and here’s why:

I’m terrified of hitting my face. I’m scared of almost nothing except hitting my face on stuff. Dental work isn’t cheap and I want to keep my real teeth in my mouth for the rest of my life. And it’s so frustrating! Because I’m not afraid of falling or breaking bones or bleeding out- but heaven forbid I should smack my head into a rock and have to have a Frankenstein amount of plastic and dental surgery done, along with 6 months of recovery.

I’m stuck between these bolts, with a 50/50 chance of falling before reaching my next clip-in point and I’m thinking, “How did I just become so not stoked about this?” I’ve never taken a lead fall before and did not want to- I climbed back down. But I’m sure that once I do take that fall, I’ll learn my lesson and will take bigger risks- but until then, I just love my teeth too much. 

movin' as a unit!

THE TRIBE.

[North Fork with the BEST people.]

I(t)=(E/R)e^-t/Γγ

I asked Victoria to tell me a simple physics equation that symbolizes something moving really quickly, then stopping abruptly. She says she’s not very good at physics, but that she vaguely remembers the speed of electrons, which is “pretty damn fast”: I(t)=(E/R)e^-t/Γγ

[running to do some chilly oceanic time with alex and mike.]

It’s Dead Week again. This quarter feels like it’s barely happened- all of us have been running seemingly endless miles at unbelievable speeds. But I’ve seemed to come to an abrupt stop- right before the finishing line. I can get into a weird funks sometimes- just letting my mind go off the deep end of where I’m going, what I’m doing, who I’ll become- and the worst of where I’m at now and am I satisfied? & Do I need to be satisfied all the time? Can I handle the answers right now?

I’ve been driving back and forth to see my parents so much more than I used to this quarter. They live in Tri-Cities, so only an hour away. Mostly, I leave on a whim, deciding moments before hitting the highway that I’m actually going. Yesterday, I got out of my 9 o’clock class, borrowed Chandler’s keys and took off.

I’ve made the drive to Tri-Cities and back well over a thousand times. I don’t feel like I’m exaggerating that number either. I began the drive back in high school and I’ve continued to make it on a fairly regular basis since then. The long roads and curves of the hills help to smooth out the wrinkles in my thoughts; loosen up the knots in my brain. Going up and down and around swift corners, it feels like taking deep breaths. Like yoga for my brain! Brain yoga. But sometimes, like yesterday, I just let conflict build up in my head and ignore the stupid hills.

Then I stand in our wide open warm kitchen, my mom is whipping up omelets like we’ve just woken up; and I let the words tumble out of my mouth like a landslide.

I tell my mom I have chronic frustration. Why am I unsatisfied? Where am I going, what am I doing, who am I becoming? Why is this wound not healing, while others have already scarred over? Here- I have an idea, how will I make this happen? How do I turn conviction into action? How do I decide where to lay my heart at night? Tell me what you think. No- tell me what to do.

Her answer is logical. It realigns me. God is working things out for His good. The world does not revolve around you. He will come to you, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be looking. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be working. That doesn’t mean you should stop dreaming or believing. And it doesn’t mean you have to separate all your chaos into boxes, labeling them, and putting them on the shelf. Because when your mind gets twisted in knots, or when you overanalyze situations in your head, the only way out of that is logical. Things can look completely different in your mind than they are in actuality. See the bigger picture.

There are bigger things happening here than just you. Now go back to Walla Walla. Do work, you little crazy electron.

dim horizons.

Lord, help me. 

The sea is so wide, and my boat is so small.

little dreams.

[our matching nose hoops.]

I'm really not a big jewelry person, nor would I ever advise my children to put holes in their bodies or get tattoos. But...I've always wanted to pierce my nose. My decision to do it didn't come easily either- but it was reenforced by my good friend Danielle while she was deciding whether she wanted to go be a nanny in Italy this year or not.

"Going to Italy is like piercing your nose- you'll regret you didn't do it once you're 30 years old, married with kids."

So I did it (made possible by Macie Sattelmayer & Katelin Johnson, who paid for it as an early Christmas present). It hurt so bad. My entire face felt like a nuclear explosion for a full 2 seconds. 2 seconds that felt like a million years. One giant tear rolled down my cheek.

I kept the little stud in for a whole 2 months, like a good girl! But the whole point of doing this was to get a hoop. "A pretty little gold hoop!" But when I went to switch my tiny stud for a big scary ring last night in Bev-Lea's bathroom, I couldn't do it. I fiddled over and over, and kept hurting myself, pushing it in every which way and never getting it right. It was like shrapnel. I looked at Bev-Lea (pictured; well experienced in the art of changing jewelry) with helpless eyes.

And she did what any good friend would do and stuck her finger up my nose, saying "VOILA!" after she had successfully circled it through my nostril.

Good friends are rare finds. Ones that perform minor surgery on your face are ever more rare. Hold onto those ones. But don't just hold onto those things you've always wanted to do. You'll always be able to justify not doing them, you'll always have an excuse to back out of something- but you won't be able to justify giving up the chance once the time is gone.

over the edge.

jordan limbo so good!

 "and happiness is what you need so bad, girl.

the answer lies 

with[in] you."

-led zeppelin

breathing out.

There's a Women's Group that meets at my apartment every Monday night, and we've been talking about vulnerability. How in order to create connection with others, you have to let your guard down and have the courage to be seen for who you are. You can't live within a fortress forever. Connection is necessary.

Late last night, I crashed my bike. I was riding through the fog down College Ave without my lights on. And my hat was falling over my eyes, so I was having to push it back a lot. I did this right as I was about to ride over a short curb, but I took it too parallel so my tire skidded against it and threw me off to my right. The pavement was like sharp sandpaper on my hands, and my knee smacked hard against the sidewalk, throbbing. The worst part about falling in public is that people always see you- this guy had been walking across the street when I fell and came running back towards me asking, "Are you okay?! Do you need help??"

"Yes! I'm fine! It's okay! I'm fine, gah...please just don't come over here. Oh geez."

I walked- well, limped- home and when I pulled my pant leg up to examine my knee, the blood was starting to flow down my shin and into my shoe. So I just sat on the edge of the tub, took a few deep breaths, but I couldn't stop the tears from welling up in my eyes. I let the heaves of sobs come over me like being pulled under a wave. When I'd come up for air, another would crash over my head. And it felt so GOOD. Well- I mean it felt horrible to be letting myself feel the heavy things I had been keeping outside of the walls of my soul for so long, but it felt RIGHT to let them overwhelm me, right there in my tiny bathroom with my leg bleeding out and my face soaked with salt water. Becky came over and gasped when she saw my leg- she rushed home and came back with anti-bacterial ointment and Lacey in tow so that maybe the three of us could figure out what to do about my silly knee!

Crashing my bike was necessary. It blew a gaping hole through the side of the fortress. Connection is necessary- with others and with yourself. Maybe sometimes the person you should be the most vulnerable with is yourself.