Yesterday was the full moon in Taurus, as well as a partial lunar eclipse. If you joined us in circle Tuesday, you'll know that this signifies the ending of a 2 year cycle that started in November of 2021.
If you are feeling out of balance with the taurus energies, we were and still will be for the next two weeks, called to be in nature. To focus on the present moment, and not in the endless cycles and ways we need to change our lives.
I was feeling the call to go hiking, and decided to go on a solo climb in the mountains. Was this the best decision? The jury is still out. I'm not quite sure what drove me to do this, or what outcome I was looking for, but I can tell you that 2 different versions of myself appeared on that mountain climb and this blog is about some of my ah-ha moments along the journey.
Let's start with the fact that I am NO HIKER. I've done a couple touristy climbs over the past 2 years, but never attempted something like this, let alone - ALONE. I did some minor googling of items I would need to bring. And let's be honest, my biggest fear was that I would be cold - so I mainly focused on layers.
On the way up the mountain, I was full of self doubt, and negative self talk. Thinking to myself how out of shape I was, how I was huffing and puffing in the first 20 mins, how was I going to make another 10 kms (4 hours) of this? I had to make multiple stops to catch my breath, talk myself into continuing the journey and not giving up. The moments of doubt, were doubled down by giving into the shame or realizing other areas in my life I have just given up on myself, before pulling up my big girl panties and continuing the climb until the next rest stop.
Not having any cell reception, or clue where I was along the route, and not knowing how far I had left, infuriated me. I was guessing based on the time frame, but then not even allowing myself to rely on that because of how many breaks I was taking. But realizing if I gave up and only had 1/2 hour left how disappointed in myself I would be. Another driving factor was how many people said I shouldn't be doing this activity, and the need to prove them wrong. I am capable.
Or at least, I thought I was until about half way up the mountain when I came across this set of tracks...
Then the panic started to set in. Why was I called to do this stupid thing? Why had I decided as someone who hates winter, to go on my first solo hike in the snow? Ignorance is sometimes bliss, and here seeing these tracks in the snow and knowing I definitely wasn't alone, was not comforting. Do I give in and start my decent down the mountain? Do I trust that this cat wasn't after me, and was a *LYNX AND NOT A COUGAR*?! Lynx are one of my spirit animals, I could handle a lynx. LOL. Yes, I am fully aware of how delusional this all sounds. But I decided that it wasn't going to come after me, because I wasn't going to manifest that shit by focusing on it.
And so to focus on something other than the fear of being alone with a big cat, and my pounding heart, I started to write this blog in my head. To share some of the lessons this mountain was already teaching me.
Eventually the cat tracks veered off, and I started to breathe a little easier. I got into my groove, and started to accept and anticipate when I was going to need to take breaks, and they became shorter and shorter each time. Occasionally I would stop to just enjoy the view, the sun peaking through the treetops, and appreciate the sounds of snow melting and dropping off the trees, the squirrels playing tag, and listening to the call of the birds.
When I had been hiking the steady incline for 3.5 hours, I still had no idea how far was left in the route to the top, but was realizing the time, and the fact that I may not be reaching the final destination. Just as I started to get down on myself I looked up to see an arrow carved into a tree pointing back down the mountain. I took this as a sign that it was time to start my trek back down. I was at peace with not reaching the top, so I decided to take a little break, do some journaling and leave my peace offering for Mama Earth - mostly because she didn't have me eaten by a cougar.
Where the entire way up was a mental challenge, the decent was an entirely different story. I'd also like to point out that the saying "It's all downhill from here..." is grossly misleading.
On the trek up, the snow was heavy and sticky because of the warming temperatures, but on the way back down, as the sun began to set, the snow became light and slippery. I found myself saying aloud "Girl, how the fuck did you make it up this section?!" "You are a Capricorn for sure. This is mountain goat shit!" "I'm proud of you! If I make it down to the truck, I am going to be surprised!" "Look how far you came, I don't even remember this part!" All meanwhile trying not to break an ankle as I was slip sliding down rocks, root systems, and slippery snow.
I remember feeling anxious on certain sections on the way up because I wasn't really sure if I was still on a path - it was all just freshly fallen snow, but on the way back, there were more than a few times that I was following my own footsteps back, and stopped to think "You really thought that was the best path through here?! Girl you crazy." Sometimes I would follow the footsteps, others I would forge a new way.
On more than one occasion, I was basically hurling myself down sections only to reach out and grab the closest thing to me to help me stop, for it to be a young sapling carrying just enough snow to have it all fall down my back leaving me cold and soaking wet, unable to get my mittens back on, and frustrated. Those calculated decisions on which trees to support and pull myself up with from the ascent were no where to be seen. Reminding me, that sometimes when we feel like we are spinning out of control, we are so desperate to reach out that we aren't really thinking about what it is we are asking for or what we truly need in those moments.
I often found that when I was zoned out during the descent that was when I would slip and fall, nearly twisting my ankle, reminding myself to focus on the task at hand rather than day dreaming and planning for all the things I needed to do after this mountain escape. Dreading the days and weeks to come, and some of the challenges I was yet to face.
And just at the time I was recounting in my mind, how I would share this story, it dawned on me that I had far less tears then I was expecting, when I was humbled yet again. Sitting in the snow at the bottom of a slippery slope, it hit me that the trek down wasn't over and not to count my chickens before they hatched.
This was of course, just close enough to the bottom of the mountain that I had cellphone reception again and text messages came flooding in after that photo was taken. I was bombarded with emotions of what it was I guess I was attempting to escape from. The emotions and feelings I was trying to leave on the mountain. The overwhelm from climbing up and down the mountain, seeing the end of the trail, and the sudden hit of being back to reality hit all at once, and I freely sobbed. I let it all out - the grief, anger, hurt, despair, distrust, disgust. I cried so loud I was worried, that would be the first time in the 6 hours I would finally run in to another soul. I thank the mother that this wasn't the case.
So many people have asked me how my trip was, and I still don't have an answer for them. It was wonderful, it was challenging, it was eye-opening, it was heartbreaking, and although I did manage to leave some of it on the mountain, there is still so much more processing to do.
I am remembering to pivot, and continue moving, even if it isn't on the path I thought it was. I stopped and stared at these trees for a long time. Trying to figure out what had happened to them. Recognizing the strength they had to make their way, slowly, back to its path.
But I wanted to share, because most of us are climbing mountains. We all have shit we are dealing with. And even as someone who usually does things alone, I know I don't have to, and neither do you. This eclipse season is hitting hard for a lot of us, and I just want you to know, you always have support. You can reach out anytime.
Renata
