Unanswered messages, emails and texts from companies who had been ‘on my team’ as I climbed atop some of the world’s most pristine peaks, having my story withdrawn from a magazine publication and a mention of insignificance, I am human; it hurts yet with that strength, fractured, I climb on.
A mediation this morning suggested I am not broken. I stopped the audio and made a list of reasons why, more than the bones in my body, I feel incredibly fractured.
Living in the Himalayas for 5 years, with an explosion of attention on records, racing and route traffic, I witnessed all that I needed to know commercial climbing is not for me. One year ago I chose to walk away from 8 000 m climbing.
Following traumatic brain injury and vision loss, I turned to mountains for serenity, light and direction not for competition, headlines, or fame.
Today, with multiple breaks in my leg along with a shattered ankle, I am thankful for lessons of impermanence and strength that came in the wake of my TBI. Working through the ripples of an ice climbing fall, I find myself digging deep to harness that strength knowing my purpose lies in helping others question the stories their minds tell them about possibility and perspective. Unanswered messages, emails and texts from companies who had been ‘on my team’ as I climbed atop some of the world’s most pristine peaks, having my story withdrawn from a magazine publication and a mention of insignificance, I am human; it hurts yet with that strength, fractured, I climb on.
From the top of K2, Kanchenjunga or even Cascade here in my backyard, I may be small, one of more than 8 billion yet my choices, the ways I choose to respond to adversity can shine light allowing others to see what is in fact possible: that is significant.