Don't Stop, Won't Stop

It doesn't take much to make me smile these days.

Despite new medical diagnoses, my smiles flourish.

You cannot stop. 

You cannot stop the blushing of romance.

You cannot stop the summer sun reflecting off of the crisp pages of a good book.

You cannot stop the power of friends gathered together.

The trails and the trees.

Notebooks with honest words.

The purity of live music and the freedom of dancing.

You cannot stop, joy.

I look forward to writing more now that my schedule has slowed from work. I look forward to climbing again--my hands too smooth after not climbing for two weeks--most importantly though, I look forward to connecting.

While I am here, I figured that I'd share a snip-it from the Big Easy Express that I appropriately came across this morning. Consider it your five minute banjo therapy for the day.

Big Easy Express on Nowness.com.

Re-purpose

I'm not surprised that I haven't blogged in roughly a month.
I have been busy.

Busy with wonderful, celebratory happenings such as birthdays, BBQ's, and dinners with the "Family".
So why haven't I written?

Because none of these events, though fabulous, had the ability to ground me.

It wasn't until I let my feet hit the soil this past Saturday that I felt my mind revert to a state of imagination, creativity and excitement. Alongside my dear friend, Adrienne, I felt her connection as our auras simultaneously aligned, preparing us for the day ahead.

With no concept or concern of distance, we hiked the switch-back trail catching up like old friends do. We stopped to take photos, and I got my dose of biology as she educated me on the families and origins of the plants that we passed. A true plant physiologist that woman is. (Ad--I found myself thinking about Bracken, Maidenhair, and Lady Ferns while eating my breakfast this morning. What have you done to me?). As you can also see in the photo, I got a lesson in which plants were edible. Though delicious, I remained skeptical, fearing that I would accidentally eat the wrong type and wind up dead.

With no true agenda for the day, we allowed ourselves to escape and cling to nature; I felt as my mind and soul dropped it's guard and welcomed the reunion; asking for acceptance and unity. Being typical 24 year-olds, Adrienne and I continuously find ourselves trying to navigate the world of love, meanwhile fighting to make a name for ourselves in order to keep our independence as women, professionals, and mentors. We talked about the tender love of a long-term partner and the excitement of a new crush, the turmoil and the elation that goes with dating, and the pain and the forgiveness of relationships; all while shamelessly thanking and praising our outlets: hiking, yoga, climbing, and writing, as our saving graces for our daily sanity.

Working our way past Fairy Falls towards the Devils Rest Summit, we found ourselves alongside a creek with a powerful current just gentle enough to invite us to play on her slippery rocks, logs, and mud. I felt my chest relax as I approached the water, ears stimulated over the rush, my eyes locked on to the waters path. Dancing with the elevation, flirting with large rocks and fallen trees, she made her deceleration to the forest that this was her course, but all are welcome. You couldn't stop this dance, she was full of direction, ready to adapt to protect her needs.


Adrienne and I found ourselves continuously in awe of instances such as these that displayed nature's ability to adapt and re-purpose itself within its environment. As easily as the fallen trees became a part of the creeks "tango", dozens of trees warped their strong foundation, altering the direction of growth in order to maximize sunlight. This environment is a continuum of adaptation. That very adaptation is what made them beautiful to me. On the trail we passed many perfectly erect trees, solid in their roots, beaming from the sun's rays--but my heart was with those who were twisting and leaning, and those that had fallen.

In attempt to figure out why I was so enamored with those unique trees, I began to parallel my own experiences to the trees.  As I fight towards my personal path of enlightenment, I pride myself on leading a life that continually challenges me. Just as those trees fought for extra sunlight, I fight to make myself stronger. I adapt to the changes at work, the dynamics of growing friendships, potential love interests, etc.

It was then that I realized that when Adrienne and I discussed our desire to love, truly love, I discovered why I was drawn to the logs in the creek as well as the trees that fought for their fuel source: It was because I see myself in those trees. Constantly adapting. Constantly working towards betterment. More so, I see my future partners in those trees. I love the unique qualities and the visible drive to obtain their enlightenment. I see the beauty of growth.

I haven't written, because I haven't been grounded.
I haven't been grounded because I haven't taken the time to listen to my surroundings.

Life reminds us that adaptation is necessary, nature reminds us that adaptation makes you beautiful.

The Only Good Fight

"If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise don't even start.

This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives, jobs, and maybe your own mind.
It could mean not eating for three or four days.
It could mean freezing on a park bench.
It could mean jail.
It could mean derision.
It could mean mockery. Isolation.

Isolation is the gift. All the others are tests of your endurance. Of how much you really want to do it. And you'll do it, despite rejection in the worst odds. And it'll be better than anything else you can imagine.

If you're going to try, go all the way.

There's no other feeling like that, you will be alone with the gods and the nights will flame with fire. You'll ride straight to perfect laughter. It's the only good fight there is."

-Bukowski, Factotum

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.

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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