Fall in Phoenix is a tough time. Instead of the changing colors and cooler temps that I grew up with, we’re hit with no change of scenery and our 5th or 6th month of triple digits.
I don’t want to be sitting in an oven for the 6th month in a row while much of the rest of the country experiences the magic of cooler weather and changing colors.
But, this is the fate I signed up for. So, I did what us Phoenix millennials do. I went to Target, bought an adorable orange mug covered in pumpkins, and turned up the AC so I could enjoy hot tea while my mug looked at me with “Hello Pumpkin.”
I was doing just fine. I was dealing with the fall issue, and I had pushed the latest personal life issues to the side – that is, I had spent the weekend doing all that “sorting through my feelings” crap – I had felt them all the way through, sorted them out, and tucked it all away nicely.
I had a lot to do. I was ready to be focused.
Ready, set. Full stop.
It felt like I was on fire. I couldn’t sit. I couldn’t breathe.
I was suffocating. Something needed to happen. I just didn’t know what.
Then, there was frustration – I had worked so hard to set up this week. I had so much to get done. Seriously, I had done all that self-help, anxiety-relieving, spiritual work to get the messy life stuff out of the way and my mindset straight.
I had prepared to dive into the important work headfirst.
Well, that clearly wasn’t going to happen.
So then, what now?
“Head up north. Go find colors.”
That’s the whisper I heard.
I was gone within the hour.
I’ve spent much of my time since moving to Phoenix up in Flagstaff playing around in the San Francisco Peaks area. Of course, in the winter, I’m at Snowbowl playing around on the snow.
In the summer (and now, fall) I’m up hiking in the trees, and chances are, my destination is Humphreys.
I lost count of the number of times I’ve made my way to the summit when I hit the double digits. Sometimes it gets a little old. The hike is wonderful (this is a fell-fledged mountain we’re talking about). But there’s only so many times each year you can hike up the same trail to the same peak.
But I hadn’t made the trip yet this year, so this was still a must.
That, combined with what everyone knows to be the best fall colors in Flagstaff within Inner Basin, made the details of the trip’s big ticket item a no brainer.
The day I did the 16 mile trip through Inner Basin and up to the summit was incredible. Heading out in the early hours on a weekday meant the trail through Inner Basin was empty of other humans, which leaves me alone with the changing aspens.
I’m at home with aspens. I finally found a moment of peace.
And then, the climb.
Each experience up a mountain is unique. Since it’s fall now, the leaves are a series of colors. Green, yellow, orange, red. The ground beneath me changes – dirt, yellow leaves, pine needles, rocks, cliffs.
In other ways, the unfolding of the path up a mountain is always the same. The path reveals itself, piece by piece, as you enjoy the scenery with the passing miles, only to turn a corner and be thrust into a different world – new landscape; new foliage; a new opportunity to soak in the beauty of this world.
At the same time, you’re pushing through a strenuous climb – thousands of feet of elevation gain with hopes of some reprieve just around the corner – only to turn the corner to find another hill. Steep. Rugged.
Over it you go, and into the next experience.
A couple hours after leaving the lower aspens, I’m on the peak looking back.
I see the changing landscape. Valleys, ridges, peaks. Aspens to pines to barren rock. And cut through it all, a trail twisting it’s way all the way to the top.
The top – that’s where we all want to be headed. But how many of us are willing to find the path to it?
I spend a lot of time reflecting on what it is that enables a particular individual to start the climb.
We all like to talk about it. We all like to dream.
But so few actually do the thing that enables them to climb towards the top.
Climbing mountains is actually quite simple, my friends. What you do is you take one foot and you put it in front of the other. And then you repeat. And you don’t stop until there’s no more uphill.
See? Simple. Just, maybe not so easy.
Each experience up a mountain is unique, but each path follows the same pattern. So, while you may not know exactly what is in store with each step, you can be confident that you will run into the same sorts of obstacles.
In other words, you may not know exactly what is in store, but if you’re prepared with the certainty of facing tough obstacles, you’ll be able to make it through.
So, while the journey may not be easy, if you show up with a mindset that the peak is completely attainable if only you keep moving forward through whatever comes your way – well then, soon enough, you will absolutely find yourself at the top.
Now the question is, what mountains are you ready to climb?
I have another one for you. This mountain looks a little different though. For simplicity’s sake, we’ll call this mountain 2020.
Now, this has been a tough year. No, wait, let me be clearer… every single day this year has fallen somewhere along the spectrum of challenging to painful to heart-wrenching.
It started on the 1st of the year when I decided my life I had worked so hard to build needed to be turned on its head. Heartbreak. But new beginnings.
Actually, now that I think of it, maybe it began two weeks earlier – my 26th birthday – when I bought myself a teenie little present in the form of a cute mountain ring.
My 26th birthday – for some reason (probably because I was finally kicked off my father’s healthcare plan), I decided it was time to grow up a bit more – time to truly embrace this whole idea of being an adult. I had built up a solid life, but it had been too messy and I was tired of not living up to my own expectations. So, time to step it up.
What exactly that meant, I actually had no idea. But it sounded nice and like the right moment to embrace some serious change.
So, I bought the ring and made a promise to myself, putting it out into the universe that I was ready. That I was tired of the life I’d allowed myself to live and it was time to embrace the life I knew I was capable of.
That is, I was ready to begin climbing up to my own peaks. What those would be, I couldn’t say exactly. But, I had some ideas and was ready to embrace the journey.
Well, you know what they say about the journey up a mountain?
Each experience up a mountain is unique, but each path follows the same pattern.
I didn’t know exactly where I was headed. I didn’t know what was in store. But I knew there would be obstacles, and I knew these would challenge me.
But, if I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, I’d make to the top.
Well, it’s October now.
I’m not at the peak yet. Heck, it’s not even in sight. I have no idea what’s around the next corner, and to tell you the truth, I’m terrified of what I might find.
I’ve already made my way through a series of obstacles, and believe me, they’ve been tough. Some of them have taken me down hard.
What’s coming up ahead… that I don’t know.
But what I can see – what’s right in front of me. That’s manageable.
My next step. I can take it, and I know it will take me one step closer to the peak.
And then, taking a pause to turn around and see the path that I’ve cut thus far… that’s enough for a smile to spread wide across my face.
For a moment at least, and then it’s back to the next step, and the next.
Two days after my journey up Humphreys, I’m still in Flagstaff. I’ve been working, balancing the load of a corporate job, a health blog, trying to launch a business, and getting my yoga teacher certification.
This is lot to take on, but for some reason, I’ve never been able to operate under any other paradigm than an overflowing plate.
Well, it happens to be a good year to take this all on. While the horror story of Covid is never far from my presence and while the pain and anxiety of my own life have never been so strong, I do have to say… being given the time and space to pour my heart and soul into my health coaching program – this has, in a twisted way – been at least in part a personal blessing.
I’ve spent a lot of years on this. This is my baby. But it’s never gotten the time and attention it’s needed to shine. This year is the year, though. It has to be. I finally have all this time. I have to make this work.
Except, it’s still not working. Not in the way I want it to.
So what do I do?
I can turn back to Phoenix. Back to the valley to lock myself away and keep churning away. I can keep my head down and make this thing work.
That didn’t happen. That’s not the next step I need. Instead, my wheels are taking me northeast.
Sometimes, working harder isn’t the answer. My heart knows where it needs to be.
My home. The root of my soul.
I’m off to the Rockies – and within those, to the sweetest gem. The San Juan’s.