I've always been fascinated by the Himalayas and in particular, Mount Everest. I've gobbled up books and movies and attended many talks by local climbers. (Here in Boulder County, the chance that you'll meet someone who has summited Everest is weirdly high.) I knew I'd get there someday, and my turn came in April, 2018.
Like most things in my life, the trip looked a lot different than I'd long anticipated. Instead of trekking for two weeks to South Base Camp out of Nepal, I found myself on the China side of things. It was fantastic! I spread a beloved friend's ashes* and hung prayer flags by the frigid waters pouring out of this glorious mountain.
I was so tired that day. Our group had been already been in Nepal and Bhutan for 2 weeks and had just traveled for 5 days in Tibet to reach North Base Camp. Everything in me was tired, and had been for a while. Grief will do that to a person. Also, menopause, anger and too much sugar. I'd just left a thirty-year career in nonprofit management. My dear mother was fading from Alzheimers and I couldn't visit her, comb her hair or lotion up her skin. It felt like all things were getting tossed around and changing: motherhood, career, recovery, beliefs, my marriage, my body, friendships, and connections.
But when you are staring at the biggest, badass mountain on the planet, it's difficult to not feel elated, and oh so hopeful. I whispered a wish to Mount Everest.
Slowly, a new path has opened up. Writing, breathwork and yoga, creating community. All stuff I love. I have optimism and deep gratitude for the breaking down, for it is allowing me to break free. I guess it's true, that when the student is ready, the right teachers will appear.
BreatheWriteConnect is my mountain. Here in the middle of middle age, one step at a time, one breath at a time. THIS IS MY EVEREST. What's yours?
* I wrote an essay about my friend, head on over to https://www.loristott.com/single-post/2019/06/08/bringing-kim-to-everest if you'd like.