Madalyn's Desert Focus

My youngest sister, Mads took this photo from our property in Central Oregon. I loved it too much not to share.

Screen Shot Anxiety on the Wall

It goes without saying that I feel that I have been re-born. My energy feels lighter and my meditation feels more natural. My connections with others are stronger.

But my growth is not done.

I had an out of body experience last week, and hesitated to write about it in fear that I wouldn't be able to accurately explain the feeling, only to realize that that was the essence of writing, is it not?

Even though it is spring here in Oregon, the surrounding rock climbing areas remain wet and there aren't any closer than an hours driving distance. So when you have that post work itch to climb you suck it up, grab a buddy and head to the rock gym.

I hit the gym with my buddy Karen and as I slid my harness on, I felt "off". My harness, which acts as a constant aid of comfort, now felt foreign and wrong. In hopes to buy some time to shake this alarming feeling off, I sent Karen on her way up first. New to the sport she carefully placed her hands and feet on the appropriate holds, working her way up to the top with determination. I enjoy watching her work through the mental game of climbing. I watched below as she gauged the reach above and questioned if that dime sized nub could in fact balance her weight. It's one of the most fun parts about teaching someone how to climb in my opinion. When someone is on the wall it is as if you can be in their mind with them.

That particular day I choose to warm up on a basic 5.9+, a laughable grade to any experienced climber, but I was looking to get into the groove for the evening of climbing ahead and have a little fun. I've warmed up on this route for about a month now. Moulin Rouge. Outlined appropriately by red colored tape, leaving you bending and twisting, stretching and shifting similarly to the women on that enticing stage in Paris. I feel confident on that easy run, almost dare I say, sexy?

Still unable to shake this feeling of unease, I immediately clung to this red dance of a route seeking its comfort and rhythmic flow. I couldn't find it. So instead I manned my way up the climb lacking passion or fun. This is supposed to be a physical warm up as well as a mental warm up, and instead I faced the realization that this was going to be a long night of climbing ahead.

Next I desperately threw myself onto a 5.10 in hopes to wake myself up and as I worked my way up the wall my body went onto autopilot, taking over the climb, working itself to the top meanwhile my mind quickly separated itself entirely from the climb and the experience.

Being a visual person is an incredible gift. I pride myself on my ability to visualize; whether it be photographic memory of a shopping list, or meeting minutes, or the ability to hear a song and place myself back into the mental scene where the song was first introduced to me. With that said, I've also learned that that being a visual person with anxiety, has the ability that allows your mind to remove itself from the situation at hand, pan out, and visually map out your anxiety. A stronger trip than any drug has ever given me. Unforgiving and manic, yet refreshing and concrete.

About 20 feet off the wall that day I suddenly found myself mapping my anxiety; the catalyst was when I caught myself thinking "I miss Jared." Frankly I am surprised I didn't fall off the wall right then and there. I remember specifically thinking "Woah Carlin, lock it up." and from there my mind took off, all the while my body worked its way up the wall naturally, apparently without thought. I was able to mentally visualize what I can only explain as screen shots of events and pictures of my thoughts and "placed" them into the form of a linear map.  I felt removed from my body and it's actions and drifted as my mind took over, allowing me to both visualize and place the chaos.

Somewhere around 40' I had finished strategically placing and arranging  those "screen shots" and had completed the linear train of thought which illustrated why I felt so much anxiety about climbing that day.

Here's what I learned: I missed the coaching of Jared. I find this slightly humorous because I taught him to climb too, though he quickly caught up to my level where we then assisted in coaching each other, helping the other one grow into the sport. I don't miss Jared as a partner, but I realized that I do miss him as a climbing partner. I have become the coach of climbing this past year (odd because I am a relatively novice climber myself), but when I slipped on my harness that day, I needed to be coached, not coach someone else. I realized that I have been giving all the pep talks, but that anxious day in particular, I needed a pep talk to help get me ready and excited (even it if was just a dumb gym climb) and when I felt myself struggle on a familiar route, I panicked. It is a scary thing when you go to do something you love and it no longer feels comforting. Just as easily as I could organize my "screen shot" thoughts I was able to flip that same map into a check off list and talk myself down, eventually getting my mind back into its respective state of sanity.

Moving forward with the climb. Moving along in peace.

--------------------
My post playlist:
Crazy Eyes-Old Crow Medicine Show
Gunfight In Durango- Chatham County Line
Classy Girls-The Lumineers
Big Sciota- Old Crow Medicine Show
You're the One I Want-  Chris and Thomas
Harrisburg- Josh Ritter

A weekend of sun for Oregonians

The weather man said it would 70-75 degrees (which was enough to get any Oregonian pumped.)
He was wrong.
It was 85-90 this weekend in the valley, and it.was.incredible.

Oregonian outdoor enthusiasts went to bed Friday night daydreaming of their weekend expeditions ahead. Mentally cross checking gear lists, questioning if they had remembered to fill the tank for the Subaru, visualizing trail directions, etc.; a process that allows an overwhelming sense of relaxation to wash over them, guiding them into a deep sleep preparing their bodies for the weekend ahead.

I was one of them. Friday night I fell asleep dreaming about the Silver Star South Trail Loop that I would conquer with my friend Karen and youngest sister Madalyn the next day.

Despite the fact that I didn't get home until 2:30 a.m. Friday night (technically Saturday morning) from a night out with my friends in the Athletics dept., I bounced out of bed Saturday morning at 7:00 like a kid bounces out of bed on Christmas morning. After months of waking up and having to drag myself out of bed, it felt wonderful to spring out of bed again. I finished packing up and hit the road picking up my passengers and Dutch Brothers along the way.

Driving to the trails is always a refreshing feeling, but driving with the sunroof open, music loud, and sun beaming on your face is the ultimate energy. We headed north to Washington and navigated our way through the back roads that would leave any GPS unit "searching for route", and after a stunning 2 hour drive, we were there. A simple 9 mile hike through the trees....and snow.

Karen surveying our snowy situation.

We accounted for snow as we packed up by bringing our waterproof hiking boots and figured that through some parts of the trail we would need to stomp our way through; Afterall, we were 5,000 feet up (and the trail itself was a 2,000+ elevation gain) and it was still April in the Pac NW, but we had no idea what was ahead for us. As we climbed our way north on the trail, the snow patches became more frequent and a hell of a lot deeper. Thankfully--Karen, Mads, and I all have a great sense of humor where we were able to laugh at the snow as well as our inability to cross these straights without sinking knee deep in snow. After about another two miles of snow trekking, we got to the point where it was obvious that we should have brought our snow shoes and we couldn't continue on. So we hiked our way back down and got ourselves back down to the car, studied some maps and found another trail (snow free!) and spent the rest of the afternoon hiking and playing around there.

We got back into town around 5:00 and the sun was still scorching. There was no way I was going to call it a day just yet, so I called up my friend Danny (who is always down for a bike ride), and switched pack for pack and headed out with him. We went up to an old part of town that my friend Adrienne introduced to me our senior year of college. It was the back side of a cemetery just outside of town that overlooked the surrounding valley. I hadn't been there since the previous summer season and the grass and cherry blossom trees welcomed me like an old friend. Laying on our backs looking up at the tree, rich with pink blossoms against the vibrant blue skies, we noticed all the life above us. Bees actively went flower to flower drinking in the pollen, as we similarly drank in the sun. We spotted lady bugs along the branches, crawling with ease as they wandered around with what seemed like no place to go. It was the perfect way to wind down to the day. The picture I took of the moment doesn't begin to convey the sights and sounds; then again, why would we ever want to capture that essence completely?

Lisa with Alma Desnuda

I finished off my Saturday celebrating my friend Lisa's 30th with our friends and one of her favorite bands Alma Desnuda who were playing at a local bar in Salem (followed, of course, by finishing out at the pub for a night of celebration and karaoke).

Sunday we regressed to the days of our youth. I awoke to the rays of sun on my face and again was quick to get out of bed and treat myself to a pancake breakfast. The morning was easy company, and in the afternoon I headed over to Danny's with the Athletic Dept. crew for an afternoon of beer, yard games, and homerun derby. We played as if we were 10 year old neighborhood kids. I stand by the fact that sunshine does in fact bring the most genuine laughter and smiles. Desperate for the sun, our pasty white skin soaked up the sun, leaving us scrambling for aloe vera at the end of the day. It's funny how out of routine you get when it comes to sunscreen.

As I sit here in my office, I wear my smile and my sunburned shoulders proudly. But I am not the only one. Campus today seems a bit lighter, the smiles on the faces more prominent, the "hello's" more genuine. Bike racks become polluted as we all retire our cars and pedal our way to work/school. Any one who lives in Oregon knows this love for the sun. When we get it, we feel spoiled and take full advantage of our days. We pray to the weather gods to please let this sunshine stick around forever, yet none of us dare remove the fenders from our bicycles.

The Beauty of Reality

"Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like."

-Lao Tzu

Photo Courtesy of: Blinded by the Sun

Desert

The sunsets of the desert remind me of the fresh fruit market vendors adjacent to my apartment in Athens.

Closing each day with purpose, the market owners pulled down their metal gates with experienced ease.
Without words, they were sending a kind reminder that tomorrow, we open again.

I can't watch a desert sunset without thinking of the fluid motion and downward glide of those gates.

As I play in the deserts rich red soil, and run alongside hills of sage and juniper; I  am truly living.
Outside and free, I am powered by daylight as it re-energizes and stimulates my soul.
This same daylight stimulation fuels the hustle and the bustle of the ayopa (market).
The dance of life's balance continues.

Though eventually dusk approaches, streaking the darkening skies with orange, red, and yellow;
The distant mountains and buttes become silhouettes in this quickly developing canvas of color.
A message to all outdoors, that dark is approaching. It is closing time.

Desert sunsets, much similar to the fluid glide of those closing gates act as aids of transition.
Making promises to return tomorrow.
Leaving us with a comfort and a trust that tomorrow, we become alive.