Tonight I crossed another item off my bucket list. I went rock climbing (indoor, but to me it counts). I have to admit that I am not great with heights. I was internally stressing about it all day. I took a deep breath, remembered my mantra of "effort with ease", put on a brave face and gave it my best shot. I even managed to make it to the roof.
Rock climbing is not an attractive hobby. The harnesses make your arse protrude awkwardly and the flesh on your hips (especially after children) bulge out. Then there's the communal shoes which are both ugly and uncomfortable.
After a couple of hours of climbing I now ache everywhere. Yes, already. It does not bode well for the pain I will be in tomorrow. Plus I've broken nearly every nail and my palms are scratched to pieces. But I gave it my all. So much so that I fell off the wall at one point. My arms literally could not hold me anymore and, before I knew it, I was hanging there like a sloth on a vine. I'm thankful that the person on the other end of the rope did all the right things and I didn't plunge to an inelegant death (especially in a harness!).
I found the events of today to be a good analogy of my life. The metaphorical climb back to who I can be requires so much effort. I throw all I have at it but sometimes, despite doing my best, I cannot hold on anymore and I plunge back down again. The important thing, I think, is that I keep on getting up.
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