It's the hardest for me to write anything when I try to think how it will look like. I start groping for words, while they run away from me like naughty children trying to make me catch them. I set out to chase them, but cannot take a single step. I feel helpless. I feel exposed. I feel like a failure.
Even climbing Kilimanjaro doesn't seem enough to feel that I accomplished anything in my life. For the past several weeks I've been mostly contemplating what's going on inside me, trying to see if it makes any sense. It doesn't. I am completely self-absorbed, stay in my head most of the time and continuously judge myself. Will this ever stop?
The other day I went hiking with some friends to Hollywood sign. It reminded me of the hike I took with my girl-friends on January 1st. At that time I was preparing for Kilimanjaro climb and had to wear my hardcore hiking boots and a 20-pound backpack. This time I didn't have to carry any extra weight, except for my emotional baggage. We decided to take a short cut, which was pretty steep and I simply couldn't help competing with one of my friends... I was convinced that he was competing with me too and it made me upset. I remembered my dear brother, who is 9 years older than me and who I looked up to so much when I was a child! His approval meant a lot to me and I went out of my way to get his acknowledgement and to be considered equal... This goal was never achieved, I just somehow grew out of it. Though it didn't grow out of me. It stayed inside and is still triggering the old wound...
The next day I found my face red. As red as it was after Kilimanjaro climb. It made me realize that I have allergy for the sun lotion I've been using. Yet again my insecurity kicked in. How will I go to Tai Chi class with such a red face? What will people think of me? I look horrible! I felt very exposed yet again. There was no way I was missing Tai Chi class, so I went and...survived.
How does one get out of their head? Is it even possible to stop internalizing every single experience? I am very embarrassed about it and want to hide. But I am confessing for a hundredth time that I think about myself all the time. I've gotten used to this comfortable and illusory state of human oblivion. I have absolutely no idea how to find an exit and step into my freedom...
May be this is why I decided to participate in the Martial Arts Tournament, which will take place on May 28th. Not being able to deal with my own ego, feeling exposed and helpless, the only thing I can think of is jumping right into my fear. So what if I forget the moves? So what if I fail? The worst that can happen is that everybody will see me doing the wrong move. But deep in my heart I know that it won't change who I am. Nor my unbearably red face is capable of doing it either. Being imprisoned by the judgements of my own mind I am chosing to face them. Hold on there! It's not that easy to stop me, even if I am trying to do it myself:)
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Patience
It's always been a challenge for me to be patient with whatever I do. Either it's waiting in line or getting something I really want or simply being patient with myself. I sometimes think that being patient means losing time.
One of the most important things I am learning in Tai Chi is to follow the time flow, rather than pushing it. The movements are very slow and precise. Having repeated Form 24 a number of times, this excersise might seem even boring. Breathing steadily in, the belly fills with air. Breathing gradually out, the belly goes in. Palms are crossed and slightly touch the belly. Simple sounds of Chinese music float in between the breaths. In...out. In...out.
We begin to breathe right after we warm up a little bit and before we start practicing Form 24 and the Form with the sword. I always have a feeling that instead of an hour, the class lasts at least 2 hours. I can easily follow the Master showing movements more or less accurately. But for some reason I don't seem to be able to memorize and repeat by myself even the beginning of the Form...
Breathing in...breathing out.
It often frustrates me that I cannot learn everything I want right now. Why are 2 months not enough to remember such an easy form? Why don't my legs and hands listen to me? Why, in the first place, don't I have anything to say to them?
Breathing in... breathing out.
I am planning on participating in International Los Angeles Wushu Tournament on May 28th. I already mentally signed up for it with the only hope that I will be able to learn all the moves by then... There is a part of me that is terrified by this upcoming event and I cannot even think clearly about it. Because it is so terrifying, it is easy for me to say that I am postponing to think about it whatsoever. It looks like in certain cases I do get patient...
Throughout my childhood I felt like I wanted to be in control of the calendar and time in general. I wanted things to happen at the time I planned them and pushed myself to grow up faster. All year round I would want to speed up the days to make summer approach as soon as possible. But everything would always happen and come in its own timing...
Minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day...
When I like something I want it to last forever. When I want something I want it the moment my desire appears. I can clearly see my attachment to the result. Or to the idea of the result. When you think about things happening the way you planned, it feels very safe. It feels that you are in control of your life in this world. Ironically, it is one of the biggest illusions we buy into to make our life less scary. Impatience is probably the desire to get to the comfort of an accomplished plan as soon as possible in order to feel safe.
Though if we truly know that we are not able to change anything, why bother to waste our energy on the anxiety, obsession and worry which come hand in hand with impatience? Obviously, surrender has never been perceived by the mind as a victory. Surrender is regarded more as a failure. Surrender is a loss. Or is it really?
Looking at how much energy we lose by freaking out about things, being stressed, overwhelmed, annoyed, and altogether unhappy - in which case do we lose?
Breathing in, breathing out. I am stabilizing my breath the best I can. I am lucky I've been practicing yoga for 2 years now, so I know a little bit about breathing already... The moves will come to me when it's time. Everything will work out. Just like my mind and my body are available to me. The space and time in which I live are available to me too. There is no need to push or rush. If I am looking for a change I can set an intention and follow my heart towards it, but I will never know where exactly it will take me. This is the essence and the mystery of life. This is how we sign up for our dreams - not knowing what exactly will come out. The dreams come through us like everything else does. We can support them, but cannot control.
Breathing in, breathing out.
All we can control is focusing our attention either on our breathing or anything else. The choice is always ours.
"Thank you very much for your patience" - the Master said at the end of the class...
One of the most important things I am learning in Tai Chi is to follow the time flow, rather than pushing it. The movements are very slow and precise. Having repeated Form 24 a number of times, this excersise might seem even boring. Breathing steadily in, the belly fills with air. Breathing gradually out, the belly goes in. Palms are crossed and slightly touch the belly. Simple sounds of Chinese music float in between the breaths. In...out. In...out.
We begin to breathe right after we warm up a little bit and before we start practicing Form 24 and the Form with the sword. I always have a feeling that instead of an hour, the class lasts at least 2 hours. I can easily follow the Master showing movements more or less accurately. But for some reason I don't seem to be able to memorize and repeat by myself even the beginning of the Form...
Breathing in...breathing out.
It often frustrates me that I cannot learn everything I want right now. Why are 2 months not enough to remember such an easy form? Why don't my legs and hands listen to me? Why, in the first place, don't I have anything to say to them?
Breathing in... breathing out.
I am planning on participating in International Los Angeles Wushu Tournament on May 28th. I already mentally signed up for it with the only hope that I will be able to learn all the moves by then... There is a part of me that is terrified by this upcoming event and I cannot even think clearly about it. Because it is so terrifying, it is easy for me to say that I am postponing to think about it whatsoever. It looks like in certain cases I do get patient...
Throughout my childhood I felt like I wanted to be in control of the calendar and time in general. I wanted things to happen at the time I planned them and pushed myself to grow up faster. All year round I would want to speed up the days to make summer approach as soon as possible. But everything would always happen and come in its own timing...
Minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day...
When I like something I want it to last forever. When I want something I want it the moment my desire appears. I can clearly see my attachment to the result. Or to the idea of the result. When you think about things happening the way you planned, it feels very safe. It feels that you are in control of your life in this world. Ironically, it is one of the biggest illusions we buy into to make our life less scary. Impatience is probably the desire to get to the comfort of an accomplished plan as soon as possible in order to feel safe.
Though if we truly know that we are not able to change anything, why bother to waste our energy on the anxiety, obsession and worry which come hand in hand with impatience? Obviously, surrender has never been perceived by the mind as a victory. Surrender is regarded more as a failure. Surrender is a loss. Or is it really?
Looking at how much energy we lose by freaking out about things, being stressed, overwhelmed, annoyed, and altogether unhappy - in which case do we lose?
Breathing in, breathing out. I am stabilizing my breath the best I can. I am lucky I've been practicing yoga for 2 years now, so I know a little bit about breathing already... The moves will come to me when it's time. Everything will work out. Just like my mind and my body are available to me. The space and time in which I live are available to me too. There is no need to push or rush. If I am looking for a change I can set an intention and follow my heart towards it, but I will never know where exactly it will take me. This is the essence and the mystery of life. This is how we sign up for our dreams - not knowing what exactly will come out. The dreams come through us like everything else does. We can support them, but cannot control.
Breathing in, breathing out.
All we can control is focusing our attention either on our breathing or anything else. The choice is always ours.
"Thank you very much for your patience" - the Master said at the end of the class...
Friday, April 22, 2011
Respect
I have been taking Tai Chi classes for about 2 months now:) Once I got myself to the 1st class, it all seemed right and comfortable. My group varies from 10 to 5 people and we excersise 3 times a week Monday, Wednesday and Saturday. I started with only Monday and Saturday classes, but after I decided to participate in the Inernational Los Angeles Wushu Tournament, I thought that adding 1 more hour to my routine is essential. Yes, as crazy as it sounds I am going to perform at the tournament:) What compelled me to do so? Overwhelming fear. I am comletely and utterly terrified of learning Tai Chi moves and then performing in front of a large amount of people as well as judges! But my thinking is that "if it doesn't kill me, it will make me stronger", therefore I am all up for a new experience of pushing my own boundaries. It is also a good way to establish my practice of getting back to the awareness of "I have a body, but I am not my body. I have thoughts, but I am not my thoughts". Truly, whatever I am doing has nothing to do with who I am:)
My practice has been going well so far, with the only exception that I am completely in my mind. We've mostly been doing Form 24 and occasionally Form 48. On Mondays we excersise with the sword, but I still have no idea what that Form is called or if it has any name at all... I repeat the movements okay. I usually follow the Master or other students who know what they are doing, so it's been not very hard in this regard. But every time I am asked to show Form 24 by myself, my mind seems to go blanc and I barely remember any moves at all! I have no explanation for this phenomenon, but it makes me feel pretty helpless... I am also a little annoyed when I cannot follow this or that move. I instantly start thinking that I look ridiculous and that I embarass myself by not remembering the right moves... It's nice to at least write about where I want to be in my practice. From I can figure out so far - definitely not in my mind.
I like that we all wear the same uniform, including the Master. It reminds me about equality and the absence of better or worse. One of the greatest lessons I learned last week was about RESPECT. Before we enter the carpet where the training is to take place we do a "Salute" pressing the fist of the right hand against the pointed up palm of the left hand. By this gesture we show respect to the space where the training is about to take place. When we exit the carpet, we salute again to say "Thank you. Goodbye". Of course, I might be mistaken about the exact meaning, but from what I heard from other students in class, it seems to be right.
While I was finding out all this information, it dawned on me, that in the same way I might as well show respect and gratitude to my body for allowing me to participate in this training! Once I dis-identify myself from my mind and my body, I start feeling how much unconditional love I can give to myself. I don't do anything, I do not achieve anything, no do I take credit for anything. I simply hold the space for myself to follow my heart and support myself in realizing my full potential. In this space there is no better or worse. There is no "not good enough", as well as no blaming, beating up, critisizing or judging. Supporting myself with things that my heart wants to do is one of the most beautiful things that has ever happened to me!
This is also one of the reasons why I want to participate in that Tournament. Being completely new to this practice and having to jump through all the obstacles created by my mind, I willingly offer all the support I need to myself. In supporting myself through this experience I am showing all my respect to everything there is. I respect who I am, exactly the way I am.
My practice has been going well so far, with the only exception that I am completely in my mind. We've mostly been doing Form 24 and occasionally Form 48. On Mondays we excersise with the sword, but I still have no idea what that Form is called or if it has any name at all... I repeat the movements okay. I usually follow the Master or other students who know what they are doing, so it's been not very hard in this regard. But every time I am asked to show Form 24 by myself, my mind seems to go blanc and I barely remember any moves at all! I have no explanation for this phenomenon, but it makes me feel pretty helpless... I am also a little annoyed when I cannot follow this or that move. I instantly start thinking that I look ridiculous and that I embarass myself by not remembering the right moves... It's nice to at least write about where I want to be in my practice. From I can figure out so far - definitely not in my mind.
I like that we all wear the same uniform, including the Master. It reminds me about equality and the absence of better or worse. One of the greatest lessons I learned last week was about RESPECT. Before we enter the carpet where the training is to take place we do a "Salute" pressing the fist of the right hand against the pointed up palm of the left hand. By this gesture we show respect to the space where the training is about to take place. When we exit the carpet, we salute again to say "Thank you. Goodbye". Of course, I might be mistaken about the exact meaning, but from what I heard from other students in class, it seems to be right.
While I was finding out all this information, it dawned on me, that in the same way I might as well show respect and gratitude to my body for allowing me to participate in this training! Once I dis-identify myself from my mind and my body, I start feeling how much unconditional love I can give to myself. I don't do anything, I do not achieve anything, no do I take credit for anything. I simply hold the space for myself to follow my heart and support myself in realizing my full potential. In this space there is no better or worse. There is no "not good enough", as well as no blaming, beating up, critisizing or judging. Supporting myself with things that my heart wants to do is one of the most beautiful things that has ever happened to me!
This is also one of the reasons why I want to participate in that Tournament. Being completely new to this practice and having to jump through all the obstacles created by my mind, I willingly offer all the support I need to myself. In supporting myself through this experience I am showing all my respect to everything there is. I respect who I am, exactly the way I am.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
My heart always goes there, where my mind doesn't dare
It was morning of February 12, 2011, Saturday. I got up early to go to school, the University of Santa Monica, where I am in my 2nd year of an M.A. program in Spiritual Psychology. We study every second weekend of the month, and classes begin on Friday night. So, the night before was the day of my share about climbing Kilimanjaro. I made it a part of my 2nd year project, in which we are required to choose a heart-felt subject or task to complete. Even though my actual climb was over on January 31st, it was after the share with the class that I felt "completely complete". When I woke up on Saturday, I felt that I lost something important, something that made my life interesting and exciting, something to look forward too. I felt that I lost the taste for adventure...
I don't know why I am 'blessed' with this extremely curious and inquisitive mind of mine! Truly, the ennui of ordinary days becomes unbearably colorless if I am not looking at a possibility of adventure... My heart always goes there, where my mind doesn't dare:) I felt that if I continue following my heart, then the 2nd part of my Project should also be adventurous. My intention was to continue to be inspired and to experience my life to the fullest. What could I do next?
“What do you want to do?” - I asked myself getting into shower, which had been running for the past 5 minutes, getting warm and ready for me to step in. “I don't know...” - I responded dragging my words, wondering if the water was right for me. “Would you like another adventure?” - my own candid voice persisted. “Yeah. That would be nice!” - I sounded more enthusiastic. “How about learning Martial Arts and going to Shaolin to practice with the monks?” - this question came out of nowhere and thrust itself onto my mind exactly at the same time as I felt warm water tenderly stroking my hair. “That sounds just marvelous!!!” - I got very excited at my own inventiveness and completely gave in to the morning shower...
Okay, very well. Where do I go from here? That very day I started checking out various schools of Martial Arts in Los Angeles. Because of the necessary travel element to Shaolin, I was considering Wushu as my main priority...
It's fascinating how serendipity jumps into your life once you decide what you want to do. I was very lucky and within a couple of days met a girl from my class who recommended a particular Martial Art's school. It also turned out that I live 15 minutes away from it and the parking is very easy. Yay! I found the time and went to check out a Wushu class as soon as I could. It was just like I imagined: sharp, precise moves, lots of energy, fast reactions. It looked amazing! And I instantly felt that it was NOT for me. There was a sort of disappointment growing in my chest, but I decided to linger and ask some questions. A very nice and sweet young man came up to me at the end of the class. He turned out to be one of the students as well as assisting teachers. I explained my desire to start taking Martial Art's lessons, but was not sure if Wushu was right for me... I also told him that I see Martial Arts more as a dance, rather than a fight and music is quite essential to me. "You should come on Saturday and check out our Tai Chi class!" - he said with enthusiasm. "We have a great group with very nice people and they would be happy to have you".
I felt very encouraged and determined to come and see what Tai Chi looks like. It was Saturday, a week after I realized that I want to do Martial Arts. For some reason it was very hard for me to wake up that day and it took me longer than usual to get ready. It was clear to me that the best I could do at that moment was to show up at the class 15 minutes before it was over. I still decided to do it. After I talked to the Teacher and Tai Chi students I knew that I should definitely try it out. So I promised to be back on Monday morning...
It was so hard for me to go to the first class! I got up on time and everything was okay, but my resistance was uncanny! My heart was beating heavily and I was simply terrified. "What's going on?" - I asked myself calmly. "I don't think I can go there." - it felt like the voice of my inner child responding to the adult within me. "It's okay. You don't have to go if you don't want to do Martial Arts, we'll find something else" - I continued to be very patient with myself. "It's not that I don't want to do Martial Arts. I want to and I really liked Tai Chi, but I am afraid what if I don't like doing it?" - I heard a lot of fear in my own voice. A fear of commitment to something I was not sure about. "Well, there is no other way to find it out, but by trying it. Why don't we go to the class and tell the Teacher that we want to either simply observe it or to participate without having to buy a monthly membership. If the fear becomes too overwhelming we can always go back home. I am going with you, so you should know that I am fully supporting you and always by your side."
It might sound strange that I had a dialogue like this with myself, completely in my head. But don't we all do that? Most often we critize or judge ourselves, making our lives even more uncomfortable than they already are. It is easier to attack our flaws, fears and imperfections and make them into emotional mountains impossible to climb. For some reason beating ourselves up comes more naturally than supporting ourselves and providing the help, understanding and love that we so much need. At the fragile moment of my indecisiveness and fear about such a simingly trivial thing as going to a Tai Chi class for the 1st time, I felt that I could take my own hand and take myself there. I was very gentle and loving, just as one would be with a child. We might act like adults, but we never really grow up. And our childhood dreams never grow old.
Since I was a child I loved Martial Arts! I remember watching a TV program about Shaolin monks every Sunday afternoon, which was on for some time. I would watch it with my entire family and it gave me a very warm feeling inside. An inexplicable feeling of belonging. I have no explanation why it was evoked by monks doing Martial Arts in Shaolin, but I definitely remembered this feeling and held it in my heart all this time.
I am very happy that I was able to take myself through the fear of going to the 1st Tai Chi lesson and starting to do something I've never done before. After the class I knew that I totally love Tai Chi and bought the required uniform of a black T-shirt, black pants and keds as well as a memebership for a month. I felt that my new adventure has just begun!
I don't know why I am 'blessed' with this extremely curious and inquisitive mind of mine! Truly, the ennui of ordinary days becomes unbearably colorless if I am not looking at a possibility of adventure... My heart always goes there, where my mind doesn't dare:) I felt that if I continue following my heart, then the 2nd part of my Project should also be adventurous. My intention was to continue to be inspired and to experience my life to the fullest. What could I do next?
“What do you want to do?” - I asked myself getting into shower, which had been running for the past 5 minutes, getting warm and ready for me to step in. “I don't know...” - I responded dragging my words, wondering if the water was right for me. “Would you like another adventure?” - my own candid voice persisted. “Yeah. That would be nice!” - I sounded more enthusiastic. “How about learning Martial Arts and going to Shaolin to practice with the monks?” - this question came out of nowhere and thrust itself onto my mind exactly at the same time as I felt warm water tenderly stroking my hair. “That sounds just marvelous!!!” - I got very excited at my own inventiveness and completely gave in to the morning shower...
Okay, very well. Where do I go from here? That very day I started checking out various schools of Martial Arts in Los Angeles. Because of the necessary travel element to Shaolin, I was considering Wushu as my main priority...
It's fascinating how serendipity jumps into your life once you decide what you want to do. I was very lucky and within a couple of days met a girl from my class who recommended a particular Martial Art's school. It also turned out that I live 15 minutes away from it and the parking is very easy. Yay! I found the time and went to check out a Wushu class as soon as I could. It was just like I imagined: sharp, precise moves, lots of energy, fast reactions. It looked amazing! And I instantly felt that it was NOT for me. There was a sort of disappointment growing in my chest, but I decided to linger and ask some questions. A very nice and sweet young man came up to me at the end of the class. He turned out to be one of the students as well as assisting teachers. I explained my desire to start taking Martial Art's lessons, but was not sure if Wushu was right for me... I also told him that I see Martial Arts more as a dance, rather than a fight and music is quite essential to me. "You should come on Saturday and check out our Tai Chi class!" - he said with enthusiasm. "We have a great group with very nice people and they would be happy to have you".
I felt very encouraged and determined to come and see what Tai Chi looks like. It was Saturday, a week after I realized that I want to do Martial Arts. For some reason it was very hard for me to wake up that day and it took me longer than usual to get ready. It was clear to me that the best I could do at that moment was to show up at the class 15 minutes before it was over. I still decided to do it. After I talked to the Teacher and Tai Chi students I knew that I should definitely try it out. So I promised to be back on Monday morning...
It was so hard for me to go to the first class! I got up on time and everything was okay, but my resistance was uncanny! My heart was beating heavily and I was simply terrified. "What's going on?" - I asked myself calmly. "I don't think I can go there." - it felt like the voice of my inner child responding to the adult within me. "It's okay. You don't have to go if you don't want to do Martial Arts, we'll find something else" - I continued to be very patient with myself. "It's not that I don't want to do Martial Arts. I want to and I really liked Tai Chi, but I am afraid what if I don't like doing it?" - I heard a lot of fear in my own voice. A fear of commitment to something I was not sure about. "Well, there is no other way to find it out, but by trying it. Why don't we go to the class and tell the Teacher that we want to either simply observe it or to participate without having to buy a monthly membership. If the fear becomes too overwhelming we can always go back home. I am going with you, so you should know that I am fully supporting you and always by your side."
It might sound strange that I had a dialogue like this with myself, completely in my head. But don't we all do that? Most often we critize or judge ourselves, making our lives even more uncomfortable than they already are. It is easier to attack our flaws, fears and imperfections and make them into emotional mountains impossible to climb. For some reason beating ourselves up comes more naturally than supporting ourselves and providing the help, understanding and love that we so much need. At the fragile moment of my indecisiveness and fear about such a simingly trivial thing as going to a Tai Chi class for the 1st time, I felt that I could take my own hand and take myself there. I was very gentle and loving, just as one would be with a child. We might act like adults, but we never really grow up. And our childhood dreams never grow old.
Since I was a child I loved Martial Arts! I remember watching a TV program about Shaolin monks every Sunday afternoon, which was on for some time. I would watch it with my entire family and it gave me a very warm feeling inside. An inexplicable feeling of belonging. I have no explanation why it was evoked by monks doing Martial Arts in Shaolin, but I definitely remembered this feeling and held it in my heart all this time.
I am very happy that I was able to take myself through the fear of going to the 1st Tai Chi lesson and starting to do something I've never done before. After the class I knew that I totally love Tai Chi and bought the required uniform of a black T-shirt, black pants and keds as well as a memebership for a month. I felt that my new adventure has just begun!
Monday, April 18, 2011
Hello my dear Mountain...
It's been almost a month since I stopped writing in my Kilimanjaro Diary and will soon be 3 months since my climb was complete...
I remember feeling almost annoyed during the last day of descending. Going down was hurting my knees and there was nothing really to look forward to, except for safari. For some reason it didn't inspire me as much. Under any other circumstances I would go crazy about a safari, because I like animals so much. But in comparison to the climb it seemed unimportant. Not even that. I couldn't possibly begin to compare the climb to safari...
Slowly walking down, lower and lower. Engaging my mind with conversations about other peoples lives, about my own life. A strange sinking feeling of sadness was slightly touching my heart. I thought I imagined it and kept it unnoticed. For all 5 days of safari. For 2 more weeks. For another 3 months. Until it hit me tonight right in the middle of watching "Out of Africa" for the 10th time.
What am I even sad about?!
When looking into the eyes of Meryl Streep I could so easily see what she was looking at. I was smelling the hot air of savannah, the softness of dirt after the rain, and I could see my beloved Mountain at a distance... Or I thought I saw it. It reminded me how connected I felt with myself throughout the adventure...
I remember how precise my packing list was and how I was able to make use of every little thing I brought with me for the climb. I can also track my memories as far as November 2010 when I started physically preparing for the trekking, slowly eccelerating my excersising routine. Every day mattered, I was truly driven to fulfill a certain amount of hiking as well as running. It was so easy, because I enjoyed it so much!
Probably for the 1st time in my life I was able to be so disciplined for no other reason but climbing the mountain...
Now that everything is 3 months behind me, I realize how much I've been missing her, Ms Kilimanjaro, my dear shy lady, my whale floating in the sky, my mountain of emotional freedom... I allow myself to miss you and cry about you. I am glad I have this blog and that I can come back here any time I want and just be with you, tell you stories about my life and what I've been doing since I left you...
I started taking Tai Chi classes, you know? Yes, a week after my arrival I felt that if I didn't come up with something else to keep myself fully engaged in my own life, I will just go crazy. So I decided to do something I always liked - Martial Arts, a slow version though.
I've been training for 2 months now, learning Form 24 and Figure 8 with Tai Chi Sword. I am even thinking that one day I might go to Shaolin and practice there for a month with the monks... Obviously, I like exploring new territories:) These days I am training for a competition which will take place on May 28th.
I started a Martial Artist's diary, but was not quite able to keep up with blogging in it... For some reason it felt cold and disconnected for me. So now that I feel a flow of conversation between you and me, I think I would want to continue blogging about my Tai Chi experience here as well. At least you can hear me:) I know in my heart that you can. Or is it that I can finally hear myself?
When an adventure is over and you put so much effort and love into it, it's pretty hard to come up with something else to replace it. In my case I was not able to separate Kilimanjaro experience from the rest of my life. Having learnt to be disciplined and inspired through the preparation for the climb, I simply couldn't stop climbing. When I stopped blogging I sort of lost my connection with Kilimanjaro and in a way I lost some connection with myself...
After watching "Out of Africa" my nostalgic sadness became too overwhelming. It's been filling me up all this time and couldn't help but spill through my eyes, as the rain falls over the dry land of Africa. I was talking to a friend of mine shortly after that and when asked how I am feeling, I said:
"I think I just realized how much I've been missing Kilimanjaro..."
"You have the power to always go back in your memories or in real life" - followed my friend's response.
"Yes, I know... But it feels like somebody died and I didn't give myself a chance to grieve about that person"
"Somebody who?"
"I don't know. A part of me? It's just that the feeling is very similar to that of grieving over a loss..."
"Isn't it interesting how one must lose oneself to find oneself?"
"Yeah...Very weird... What if it's all an illusion?"
"What if? It is an illusion... Because we never really lose our true self. It remains constatnt. We just find new ways of relating to ourselves through our journeys and transformations."
"I know... But it's so damn hard!"
It's been hard and at the same time easy, like everything else in life. It's all about how we chose to relate to ourselves anyway. In this case everything else can remain as illusory as it is. It simply doesn't matter. Our own connection with ourselves is what matters. This is the only way we can truly connect with other people and experience paradise on Earth.
I remember feeling almost annoyed during the last day of descending. Going down was hurting my knees and there was nothing really to look forward to, except for safari. For some reason it didn't inspire me as much. Under any other circumstances I would go crazy about a safari, because I like animals so much. But in comparison to the climb it seemed unimportant. Not even that. I couldn't possibly begin to compare the climb to safari...
Slowly walking down, lower and lower. Engaging my mind with conversations about other peoples lives, about my own life. A strange sinking feeling of sadness was slightly touching my heart. I thought I imagined it and kept it unnoticed. For all 5 days of safari. For 2 more weeks. For another 3 months. Until it hit me tonight right in the middle of watching "Out of Africa" for the 10th time.
What am I even sad about?!
When looking into the eyes of Meryl Streep I could so easily see what she was looking at. I was smelling the hot air of savannah, the softness of dirt after the rain, and I could see my beloved Mountain at a distance... Or I thought I saw it. It reminded me how connected I felt with myself throughout the adventure...
I remember how precise my packing list was and how I was able to make use of every little thing I brought with me for the climb. I can also track my memories as far as November 2010 when I started physically preparing for the trekking, slowly eccelerating my excersising routine. Every day mattered, I was truly driven to fulfill a certain amount of hiking as well as running. It was so easy, because I enjoyed it so much!
Probably for the 1st time in my life I was able to be so disciplined for no other reason but climbing the mountain...
Now that everything is 3 months behind me, I realize how much I've been missing her, Ms Kilimanjaro, my dear shy lady, my whale floating in the sky, my mountain of emotional freedom... I allow myself to miss you and cry about you. I am glad I have this blog and that I can come back here any time I want and just be with you, tell you stories about my life and what I've been doing since I left you...
I started taking Tai Chi classes, you know? Yes, a week after my arrival I felt that if I didn't come up with something else to keep myself fully engaged in my own life, I will just go crazy. So I decided to do something I always liked - Martial Arts, a slow version though.
I've been training for 2 months now, learning Form 24 and Figure 8 with Tai Chi Sword. I am even thinking that one day I might go to Shaolin and practice there for a month with the monks... Obviously, I like exploring new territories:) These days I am training for a competition which will take place on May 28th.
I started a Martial Artist's diary, but was not quite able to keep up with blogging in it... For some reason it felt cold and disconnected for me. So now that I feel a flow of conversation between you and me, I think I would want to continue blogging about my Tai Chi experience here as well. At least you can hear me:) I know in my heart that you can. Or is it that I can finally hear myself?
When an adventure is over and you put so much effort and love into it, it's pretty hard to come up with something else to replace it. In my case I was not able to separate Kilimanjaro experience from the rest of my life. Having learnt to be disciplined and inspired through the preparation for the climb, I simply couldn't stop climbing. When I stopped blogging I sort of lost my connection with Kilimanjaro and in a way I lost some connection with myself...
After watching "Out of Africa" my nostalgic sadness became too overwhelming. It's been filling me up all this time and couldn't help but spill through my eyes, as the rain falls over the dry land of Africa. I was talking to a friend of mine shortly after that and when asked how I am feeling, I said:
"I think I just realized how much I've been missing Kilimanjaro..."
"You have the power to always go back in your memories or in real life" - followed my friend's response.
"Yes, I know... But it feels like somebody died and I didn't give myself a chance to grieve about that person"
"Somebody who?"
"I don't know. A part of me? It's just that the feeling is very similar to that of grieving over a loss..."
"Isn't it interesting how one must lose oneself to find oneself?"
"Yeah...Very weird... What if it's all an illusion?"
"What if? It is an illusion... Because we never really lose our true self. It remains constatnt. We just find new ways of relating to ourselves through our journeys and transformations."
"I know... But it's so damn hard!"
It's been hard and at the same time easy, like everything else in life. It's all about how we chose to relate to ourselves anyway. In this case everything else can remain as illusory as it is. It simply doesn't matter. Our own connection with ourselves is what matters. This is the only way we can truly connect with other people and experience paradise on Earth.
Monday, March 28, 2011
The Last Day
Today is the last day and the last entry in my Kilimanjaro Diary. I feel a little bit sad that it is all over. This diary has been my good friend since November 2010 and played an essential role in my preparation for climbing Kilimanjaro and for the climb itself. It taught me to be honest with myself, to support myself, to listen to myself. I laughed and cried in my diary, felt helpless, annoyed, scared, happy, excited, enthusiastic - I went through all sorts of emotions and climbed the mountain:)
We got back to Springlands hotel in Moshi early afternoon on January 31, 2011. It took us about 4 hours to get from Mweka Camp at 10,065 ft (3,068 m) to Mweka Gate at 5,380 ft (1,640 m). Going down a stony trail seemed endless! I was talking a lot with guys from my group and there was nothing or little said about Kilimanjaro. I didn't have any feeling of accomplishment or achievement. If I had no memory of climbing this mountain, I could easily say that I didn't do it. It felt like nothing had changed. I couldn't see any change in myself either, except for my face, which got so bitten by the wind and burnt by the sun, that I was barely able to recognize it... It was red, very dry, scratchy and hurt a lot when I put aloe vera on it.
The funny thing was that while we were climbing Kilimanjaro for 7 days I didn't use a mirror at all. In everyday life we see our faces when brushing teeth, or combing hair, for girls - putting on make-up, or checking out our clothing fit. We familiarize ourselves with our face with the help of the mirror, because we never really see it otherwise. I always found it amazing that we can easily see other people's faces, but never our own... For 7 days of not seeing my face I almost forgot what I looked like. I also thought that through this climb something inside me will change and it will somehow be reflected in my face. So I was really looking forward to seeing my "new" face. It turned out that I could hardly bear looking at myself in the mirror! I so much wanted to enjoy the rest of my stay in Tanzania and 5days of safari fully, without having to be distracted by itching, scratching, hurting and feeling uncomfortable all the time. I was extremely proud of myself for going to Africa and climbing Kilimanjaro, but I just wanted to have my "old" face back...
I remember sitting outside my safari tent in Serengeti in the evening right before dinner. There was a symphony of sounds playing all around me: persistent crickets, a far away thunderstorm, people chatting in a gazebo, a moan of some large animal at a distance... Fresh and cool air, tender breeze lightly stroking the grass. And in that beautiful and tranquil moment I almost burst out crying.
I couldn't say that I had some huge expectations from Kilimanjaro. I took one step at a time and really enjoyed being present throughout 3 months of preparation and the climb itself. I treasured every single moment, I imbibed all sensations, I embraced all experiences. When the climb was over, I was still on my adventure and having a wonderful safari, but I stopped feeling present. I completely flipped over. I felt as if my heart was moaning, spreading the sound across Serengeti, joining other numerous sounds in a spontaneous composition of the African symphony, reminding me of my humanness... In a couple of days I was flying back to Los Angeles, where my whole life situation was sort of hanging in the air. For about a year I've been transitioning into Intuitive/Spiritual Counseling career, still not being able to make a living with it. Continuously studying, relying on unemployment and having to take care of myself. I chose to live in a foreign country, leaving my entire family in Russia. I don't have a regular job, and thrive on helping people with their spiritual growth. Nor do I have this special person in my life with whom to share all the joys, sorrows, wonders and love... Even though I do have many beautiful friends, it sometimes feels so damn scary and lonely!
...and then I suddenly remembered my Psychosynthesis homework assignment at the University of Santa Monica I did in April, 2010. The best I can describe it as a meditation or self-hypnosis. I chose the exercise of "The Inner Dialogue" in which you are required to go on top of the mountain and see what will come forward to you...
First I saw myself in a valley, I was a little girl, may be 10 y.o. I was wearing a lavender-printed dress and was picking up flowers. I felt very happy and relaxed. Then my attention was drawn to the mountain and I was supposed to embark on my journey there, but I didn’t seem to have any sense of readiness or expectancy. I was lingering around the flowers and felt very distinctively that there was my voice calling for me to go into the forest and start proceeding towards the mountain…
Then, all of a sudden, I saw another me, already an adult, wearing jeans and a
sailor’s striped t-short with long sleeves, climbing up the mountain. I felt the sharp stones with my feet and hands. After awhile they were bleeding and hurting. I sat down on a big stone and started crying. I was upset and in pain. When I calmed down, I continued my way up and once I got enveloped by the cloud, all my wounds healed and as if I became weightless. I stood up straight and was walking up like this quite easily.
When I reached the very top of the mountain, I felt very refreshed, my clothes were very clean and I was even wearing shoes. I started walking along the plateau, and at a distance I saw a luminous point. It approached me and I saw that it was white light, it enveloped me and as if transcended into me. It was quiet, I could hear my breathing, but there was nothing else happening and I didn’t see anybody.
Then I saw a bench and sat down on it. I felt very calm and relaxed. I turned around and saw a pond and decided to drink some water. I leaned towards it and saw my own eyes in the reflection. They were staring at me, as if they were not my own eyes, but somebody else’s. The next moment many swans landed on the pond and bowed their heads in front of me. A male figure started approaching from the other side of the pond and he looked like a King. He was walking on the water and he was wearing royal clothes and a crown. In his hand he was carrying another crown.
I was standing in front of him when he came up closer. On each side of the pond there were swans with their heads bowing down. The King put the crown onto my head and gave me his hand to help me up onto the pond. I proceeded on the water towards the throne I could see on the other side. The King was following me. He helped me up on the throne and kneeled next to me.
Thus I was sitting on the throne in my tight blue jeans, wearing a striped sailor’s t-shirt with long sleeves and a crown on my head. And then I heard the voice: “You don’t have to worry about anything. You will always be completely taken care of” And I said “But what about work? I need to work!” “Queens do not work” – I heard the reply. I felt very balanced, empowered, whole and full of gratitude. “Thank you. Thank you very much” – I repeated several time and then asked again: “When will I be taken care of in my present situation?” And the answer followed: “You are being taken care of right now, with every breath that you make”
I was amazed by the experience I had doing this exercise and at the same time very disconcerted. How was I supposed to take this “Queens do not work”? I got laid off a week before and was looking for a new job. Then I heard my inner voice asking me:
"What do you think Queens do?"
"I don’t know. I am not a Queen." - And a dialogue between my mind and the voice in my heart began.
"What if you are? A different kind of Queen, not the one people are usually used to?"
"What do you mean?"
"What if inside of you there is so much power and energy that can only be compared to that of a manifestation of a Queen?"
"Okay, I can believe that."
"What prevents you from using this energy?"
"I am scared of it."
"Why are you scared?"
"I am scared that I won’t be able to use it …"
"Does it make you happy when you withhold it?"
"No, it makes me feel quite miserable…"
"Remember, you always have a choice. Inside your heart you know what makes you happy. By choosing to be miserable you avoid following the passion of your heart. Having done this for so many years you have gotten used to the comfort of repeated misery. It is by choosing to be happy you will become responsible for your life and will be able to come into your full power which will allow you to blossom."
"Yes, I know this. It is the little girl. The little girl who remained in the
valley picking up flowers being afraid to go through the dark forest…. The grown-up me climbed up the mountain hurting her feet and hands, but she did it anyway. I really want to go back to the exercise and help the little girl go through the forest. It is really important for me to do this!"
"Please do. I will keep the space for you communicating with the little girl."
"Thank you…"
And so I went to meet the little girl in the valley, but it was already night. The starry sky was overwhelmingly beautiful and the moon was shining its light on the field of flowers. The little girl was exactly where she stayed before, she was still picking up the flowers. I came up to her and we started talking.
When I asked her if she could go through the forest, she said no. She didn’t want to
explain why, and her resistance was very strong. Surprisingly, I didn’t get angry, just hugged her and said that I love her. Then she opened up to me and said that she was afraid to grow up. She didn’t want to go through the forest, because it would make her a grown up and then I wouldn’t need her and she wouldn’t know how to live. I started crying, tears were coming out with so much force and my heart was beating
incessantly as I continued to hug the little girl, continuing to tell her how much I love her...
Through my tears I asked her for help. I said I would not be able to do anything without her help, that she is the strongest, most creative part of me which I would never dare to let go of. She looked at me calmly and said: “Okay, I will help you. I will go through the forest”. As she was walking along the moon-lit path in the forest, a white dove flew above her. She was very confident and devoid of any fear. She approached a little meadow filled with beautiful white flowers. She walked into the middle, and as she did, the white warm rain started pouring onto her. It continued until her entire body became luminously white. As she was exiting the forest the sunrise was emerging and I could see her as a shining spot approaching the mountain. At the mountain she turned into a white dove and flew up to
the top effortlessly. The dove was wearing a little lavender flower on the neck.
On top of the mountain it was already morning and everything was lit up by streaming
golden light. The dove saw me as the Queen sitting on the throne surrounded by white
swans and landed on my shoulder. I picked her up on my palm and brought closer to my
face. “Thank you for doing this for me”, I said. The dove nodded her head. I lifted the dove up in the air just as I was standing up and the peaceful grace that entered my heart at that moment was incomparable to anything I had experienced before…
By remembering the psychosynthesis experience on that night in Serengeti, I realized once again that there is no need for me to feel scared or lonely. There is no need to feel sorry for the fact that my Kilimanjaro adventure is over and that I practically do not know what to do next. There is no need to linger on any sadness, because life is too beautiful not to be present in every moment of it. Let it be. Let yourself be.
"My intention is to enjoy every moment of my life to the fullest. My intention is to be present. My intention is to be happy. My intention is to simply be and embrace who I am." - I surrendered to the darkness of the African night, which obscured my face and ignited the light in my heart. Kilimanjaro was somewhere there in the dark as well, I couldn't see it, but I knew of its presence. I also remembered what it felt like to climb to the very top and see the vast endless sky. "We should live closer to the sky," - I thought. "We should always follow the dreams in our heart, because, probably, this is what life is all about".
We got back to Springlands hotel in Moshi early afternoon on January 31, 2011. It took us about 4 hours to get from Mweka Camp at 10,065 ft (3,068 m) to Mweka Gate at 5,380 ft (1,640 m). Going down a stony trail seemed endless! I was talking a lot with guys from my group and there was nothing or little said about Kilimanjaro. I didn't have any feeling of accomplishment or achievement. If I had no memory of climbing this mountain, I could easily say that I didn't do it. It felt like nothing had changed. I couldn't see any change in myself either, except for my face, which got so bitten by the wind and burnt by the sun, that I was barely able to recognize it... It was red, very dry, scratchy and hurt a lot when I put aloe vera on it.
The funny thing was that while we were climbing Kilimanjaro for 7 days I didn't use a mirror at all. In everyday life we see our faces when brushing teeth, or combing hair, for girls - putting on make-up, or checking out our clothing fit. We familiarize ourselves with our face with the help of the mirror, because we never really see it otherwise. I always found it amazing that we can easily see other people's faces, but never our own... For 7 days of not seeing my face I almost forgot what I looked like. I also thought that through this climb something inside me will change and it will somehow be reflected in my face. So I was really looking forward to seeing my "new" face. It turned out that I could hardly bear looking at myself in the mirror! I so much wanted to enjoy the rest of my stay in Tanzania and 5days of safari fully, without having to be distracted by itching, scratching, hurting and feeling uncomfortable all the time. I was extremely proud of myself for going to Africa and climbing Kilimanjaro, but I just wanted to have my "old" face back...
I remember sitting outside my safari tent in Serengeti in the evening right before dinner. There was a symphony of sounds playing all around me: persistent crickets, a far away thunderstorm, people chatting in a gazebo, a moan of some large animal at a distance... Fresh and cool air, tender breeze lightly stroking the grass. And in that beautiful and tranquil moment I almost burst out crying.
I couldn't say that I had some huge expectations from Kilimanjaro. I took one step at a time and really enjoyed being present throughout 3 months of preparation and the climb itself. I treasured every single moment, I imbibed all sensations, I embraced all experiences. When the climb was over, I was still on my adventure and having a wonderful safari, but I stopped feeling present. I completely flipped over. I felt as if my heart was moaning, spreading the sound across Serengeti, joining other numerous sounds in a spontaneous composition of the African symphony, reminding me of my humanness... In a couple of days I was flying back to Los Angeles, where my whole life situation was sort of hanging in the air. For about a year I've been transitioning into Intuitive/Spiritual Counseling career, still not being able to make a living with it. Continuously studying, relying on unemployment and having to take care of myself. I chose to live in a foreign country, leaving my entire family in Russia. I don't have a regular job, and thrive on helping people with their spiritual growth. Nor do I have this special person in my life with whom to share all the joys, sorrows, wonders and love... Even though I do have many beautiful friends, it sometimes feels so damn scary and lonely!
...and then I suddenly remembered my Psychosynthesis homework assignment at the University of Santa Monica I did in April, 2010. The best I can describe it as a meditation or self-hypnosis. I chose the exercise of "The Inner Dialogue" in which you are required to go on top of the mountain and see what will come forward to you...
First I saw myself in a valley, I was a little girl, may be 10 y.o. I was wearing a lavender-printed dress and was picking up flowers. I felt very happy and relaxed. Then my attention was drawn to the mountain and I was supposed to embark on my journey there, but I didn’t seem to have any sense of readiness or expectancy. I was lingering around the flowers and felt very distinctively that there was my voice calling for me to go into the forest and start proceeding towards the mountain…
Then, all of a sudden, I saw another me, already an adult, wearing jeans and a
sailor’s striped t-short with long sleeves, climbing up the mountain. I felt the sharp stones with my feet and hands. After awhile they were bleeding and hurting. I sat down on a big stone and started crying. I was upset and in pain. When I calmed down, I continued my way up and once I got enveloped by the cloud, all my wounds healed and as if I became weightless. I stood up straight and was walking up like this quite easily.
When I reached the very top of the mountain, I felt very refreshed, my clothes were very clean and I was even wearing shoes. I started walking along the plateau, and at a distance I saw a luminous point. It approached me and I saw that it was white light, it enveloped me and as if transcended into me. It was quiet, I could hear my breathing, but there was nothing else happening and I didn’t see anybody.
Then I saw a bench and sat down on it. I felt very calm and relaxed. I turned around and saw a pond and decided to drink some water. I leaned towards it and saw my own eyes in the reflection. They were staring at me, as if they were not my own eyes, but somebody else’s. The next moment many swans landed on the pond and bowed their heads in front of me. A male figure started approaching from the other side of the pond and he looked like a King. He was walking on the water and he was wearing royal clothes and a crown. In his hand he was carrying another crown.
I was standing in front of him when he came up closer. On each side of the pond there were swans with their heads bowing down. The King put the crown onto my head and gave me his hand to help me up onto the pond. I proceeded on the water towards the throne I could see on the other side. The King was following me. He helped me up on the throne and kneeled next to me.
Thus I was sitting on the throne in my tight blue jeans, wearing a striped sailor’s t-shirt with long sleeves and a crown on my head. And then I heard the voice: “You don’t have to worry about anything. You will always be completely taken care of” And I said “But what about work? I need to work!” “Queens do not work” – I heard the reply. I felt very balanced, empowered, whole and full of gratitude. “Thank you. Thank you very much” – I repeated several time and then asked again: “When will I be taken care of in my present situation?” And the answer followed: “You are being taken care of right now, with every breath that you make”
I was amazed by the experience I had doing this exercise and at the same time very disconcerted. How was I supposed to take this “Queens do not work”? I got laid off a week before and was looking for a new job. Then I heard my inner voice asking me:
"What do you think Queens do?"
"I don’t know. I am not a Queen." - And a dialogue between my mind and the voice in my heart began.
"What if you are? A different kind of Queen, not the one people are usually used to?"
"What do you mean?"
"What if inside of you there is so much power and energy that can only be compared to that of a manifestation of a Queen?"
"Okay, I can believe that."
"What prevents you from using this energy?"
"I am scared of it."
"Why are you scared?"
"I am scared that I won’t be able to use it …"
"Does it make you happy when you withhold it?"
"No, it makes me feel quite miserable…"
"Remember, you always have a choice. Inside your heart you know what makes you happy. By choosing to be miserable you avoid following the passion of your heart. Having done this for so many years you have gotten used to the comfort of repeated misery. It is by choosing to be happy you will become responsible for your life and will be able to come into your full power which will allow you to blossom."
"Yes, I know this. It is the little girl. The little girl who remained in the
valley picking up flowers being afraid to go through the dark forest…. The grown-up me climbed up the mountain hurting her feet and hands, but she did it anyway. I really want to go back to the exercise and help the little girl go through the forest. It is really important for me to do this!"
"Please do. I will keep the space for you communicating with the little girl."
"Thank you…"
And so I went to meet the little girl in the valley, but it was already night. The starry sky was overwhelmingly beautiful and the moon was shining its light on the field of flowers. The little girl was exactly where she stayed before, she was still picking up the flowers. I came up to her and we started talking.
When I asked her if she could go through the forest, she said no. She didn’t want to
explain why, and her resistance was very strong. Surprisingly, I didn’t get angry, just hugged her and said that I love her. Then she opened up to me and said that she was afraid to grow up. She didn’t want to go through the forest, because it would make her a grown up and then I wouldn’t need her and she wouldn’t know how to live. I started crying, tears were coming out with so much force and my heart was beating
incessantly as I continued to hug the little girl, continuing to tell her how much I love her...
Through my tears I asked her for help. I said I would not be able to do anything without her help, that she is the strongest, most creative part of me which I would never dare to let go of. She looked at me calmly and said: “Okay, I will help you. I will go through the forest”. As she was walking along the moon-lit path in the forest, a white dove flew above her. She was very confident and devoid of any fear. She approached a little meadow filled with beautiful white flowers. She walked into the middle, and as she did, the white warm rain started pouring onto her. It continued until her entire body became luminously white. As she was exiting the forest the sunrise was emerging and I could see her as a shining spot approaching the mountain. At the mountain she turned into a white dove and flew up to
the top effortlessly. The dove was wearing a little lavender flower on the neck.
On top of the mountain it was already morning and everything was lit up by streaming
golden light. The dove saw me as the Queen sitting on the throne surrounded by white
swans and landed on my shoulder. I picked her up on my palm and brought closer to my
face. “Thank you for doing this for me”, I said. The dove nodded her head. I lifted the dove up in the air just as I was standing up and the peaceful grace that entered my heart at that moment was incomparable to anything I had experienced before…
By remembering the psychosynthesis experience on that night in Serengeti, I realized once again that there is no need for me to feel scared or lonely. There is no need to feel sorry for the fact that my Kilimanjaro adventure is over and that I practically do not know what to do next. There is no need to linger on any sadness, because life is too beautiful not to be present in every moment of it. Let it be. Let yourself be.
"My intention is to enjoy every moment of my life to the fullest. My intention is to be present. My intention is to be happy. My intention is to simply be and embrace who I am." - I surrendered to the darkness of the African night, which obscured my face and ignited the light in my heart. Kilimanjaro was somewhere there in the dark as well, I couldn't see it, but I knew of its presence. I also remembered what it felt like to climb to the very top and see the vast endless sky. "We should live closer to the sky," - I thought. "We should always follow the dreams in our heart, because, probably, this is what life is all about".
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Day #6, January 29th, 2011
I woke up at 11:30 pm on January 28th. I could tell it was very cold and windy outside. The first thought I had was a Russian proverb: "A good master won't take his dog out in such weather!" Oh, well... 4 bottom layers including silk ski underwear, leggins, hiking pants and ski pants. 8 top layers including silk ski underwear, a woolen tank-top, 2 thermal long-sleeved shirts, a fleece vest, a woolen sweater, a soft-shell jacket and a down jacket with a hood. 3 pairs of woolen socks. A faux fur hat and a mask for the face. Ski goggles. Ski gloves. Glove warmers. A bit of snacks. Some medicine. A camel pack with water. 1 hiking pole. A head lamp. I was obsessed with details not to forget something important. More than anything I wanted to make sure I will be warm and yet able to move:)
I met the other 7 guys from my climbing group in the dining tent. We had some warm tea with cookies. We didn't seem to talk as much as usual, everybody was very focused and a little bit tense. Right before our guide came to get us, I ran to the tent with the toilet, hoping that I won't have any desire to pee during the climb. It seemed unimaginable to me in those conditions. The wind was so strong that it looked like I would be blown away together with the tent...
Thus at 12 midnight our guide, 3 assistant guides and 8 of us began the final ascent. It was pitch dark and we were all wearing head lamps. I was walking right behind our guide and the rest of the group was following me. Obviously, I was the slowest:) 3 assistant guides were sort of all over, or at least it seemed so. They were watching out for us and it gave me a lot of comfort. We were walking on some dense sand and the incline was very steep. The trail ran as a spiral, but it was hard to tell because of the darkness all around us. There were moments when I would lift my head and instead of the circle made by my head lamp on the ground in front of me, I would see little lights moving up the mountain - those were people ahead of us and it seemed awfully high! So mostly I tried not to look anywhere and just concentrate on my steps...
Every step was making me very tired. I was breathing through my mouth so heavily as if I just ran a marathon. While I was barely moving my feet! "Come on! Don't sleep! We are almost there, keep moving!" - encouragement coming from our assistant guide Attily didn't help, but made it rather irritating. I was going at the speed my body was allowing me without any unpleasant consequences and couldn't go any faster. Really, going even a tiny bit faster was unfathomable.
We would have stops quite often. May be every 30 minutes. Every time I would find a stone to sit on quietly and balance my breath. I was happy I was very warm and if not the biting wind on my face and consistently being out of breath, it would be much better. I couldn't wear the face mask, because I felt like I needed more air. The hood was protecting my face a little bit, but the wind was still very strong and I could feel it all over my cheeks...
The assistant guides sang songs and talked a lot, while none of us was saying much of anything. When you need all your energy to breathe, there is no more left for words:) Though I was still indulging myself with thoughts and I knew that it was the only thing I could control. During 7 hours of uphill strenuous hike at a snail pace in excrusiating cold and merciless wind, at the altitude above 18,000 feet, I was engaging my mind with... setting intentions. This is something I learned during my Spiritual Psychology course as well as read in the book by Wayne Dyer "The Power of Intention". I felt like climbing Kilimanjaro was the best way to practice this spiritual "magic wand":) "My intention is to be strong. My intention is to feel well. My intention is to be healthy. My intention is to make it to the top." Hundreds and hundreds of times I was repeating this intention mantra. My mind was very clear and my emotional state was very balanced.
After several hours I had a very strange feeling of appreciation. It came right from my heart and practically overwhelmed me. "THANK YOU so very much, my dear BODY for allowing me to do this climb! And for being so strong and helpful to me in every way possible!" My eyes got teary and my heart was overflowing with love and joy. It was a moment of grace, surrender and deep appreciation for my human body, which my spirit is inhabiting. There was no ego identification with "I am doing it, I am achieving the top of the mountain, etc". There was only gratitude and unconditional love. At that same very moment I thought about all the people from my class at the University of Santa Monica, all my friends all over the world, my family in Russia, all the people I ever met... - and I suddenly felt very connected with all of them. As if I stepped into some ethereal room where every soul meets and acknowledges each other. Time stopped. There was no past or future. There was no mountain. There was no cold or wind. And at the same moment there was everything, but from a completely different perspective. Is this how God observes the world?
At 7:10 a.m. we all reached the famous Uhuru Peak at 19,341 ft (5,895 m). The "Roof of Africa" felt bare, simple, calm and very spread out. It mostly felt like some alien field on another planet where they've already developed space tourism and it was a top destination. A sort of "Marsian Venice" with glaciers instead of canals. Anyway, does anybody want to take some pictures?:)
After the pictures were taken, our group was back on track for the final descent, which turned out to be quite strenuous as well. It resembled sliding on your feet on a mountain of sand. A very strange feeling, especially if you've never done it before. I am glad I had some skiing experience in Whistler, Canada right before flying to Tanzania!
When we reached Barafu Hut I was completely exhausted. We slept for 2 hours, then had lunch and another 5 hour hike to Mweka Hut, where I am right now. Tomorrow is the last day, we start at 7 a.m. and will already be at the hotel around 10 a.m. Shower! Yay!
I just had 3 beers "Kilimanjaro" and feel very tipsy. So I should probably go to sleep right now.
That's it, I guess:)
I met the other 7 guys from my climbing group in the dining tent. We had some warm tea with cookies. We didn't seem to talk as much as usual, everybody was very focused and a little bit tense. Right before our guide came to get us, I ran to the tent with the toilet, hoping that I won't have any desire to pee during the climb. It seemed unimaginable to me in those conditions. The wind was so strong that it looked like I would be blown away together with the tent...
Thus at 12 midnight our guide, 3 assistant guides and 8 of us began the final ascent. It was pitch dark and we were all wearing head lamps. I was walking right behind our guide and the rest of the group was following me. Obviously, I was the slowest:) 3 assistant guides were sort of all over, or at least it seemed so. They were watching out for us and it gave me a lot of comfort. We were walking on some dense sand and the incline was very steep. The trail ran as a spiral, but it was hard to tell because of the darkness all around us. There were moments when I would lift my head and instead of the circle made by my head lamp on the ground in front of me, I would see little lights moving up the mountain - those were people ahead of us and it seemed awfully high! So mostly I tried not to look anywhere and just concentrate on my steps...
Every step was making me very tired. I was breathing through my mouth so heavily as if I just ran a marathon. While I was barely moving my feet! "Come on! Don't sleep! We are almost there, keep moving!" - encouragement coming from our assistant guide Attily didn't help, but made it rather irritating. I was going at the speed my body was allowing me without any unpleasant consequences and couldn't go any faster. Really, going even a tiny bit faster was unfathomable.
We would have stops quite often. May be every 30 minutes. Every time I would find a stone to sit on quietly and balance my breath. I was happy I was very warm and if not the biting wind on my face and consistently being out of breath, it would be much better. I couldn't wear the face mask, because I felt like I needed more air. The hood was protecting my face a little bit, but the wind was still very strong and I could feel it all over my cheeks...
The assistant guides sang songs and talked a lot, while none of us was saying much of anything. When you need all your energy to breathe, there is no more left for words:) Though I was still indulging myself with thoughts and I knew that it was the only thing I could control. During 7 hours of uphill strenuous hike at a snail pace in excrusiating cold and merciless wind, at the altitude above 18,000 feet, I was engaging my mind with... setting intentions. This is something I learned during my Spiritual Psychology course as well as read in the book by Wayne Dyer "The Power of Intention". I felt like climbing Kilimanjaro was the best way to practice this spiritual "magic wand":) "My intention is to be strong. My intention is to feel well. My intention is to be healthy. My intention is to make it to the top." Hundreds and hundreds of times I was repeating this intention mantra. My mind was very clear and my emotional state was very balanced.
After several hours I had a very strange feeling of appreciation. It came right from my heart and practically overwhelmed me. "THANK YOU so very much, my dear BODY for allowing me to do this climb! And for being so strong and helpful to me in every way possible!" My eyes got teary and my heart was overflowing with love and joy. It was a moment of grace, surrender and deep appreciation for my human body, which my spirit is inhabiting. There was no ego identification with "I am doing it, I am achieving the top of the mountain, etc". There was only gratitude and unconditional love. At that same very moment I thought about all the people from my class at the University of Santa Monica, all my friends all over the world, my family in Russia, all the people I ever met... - and I suddenly felt very connected with all of them. As if I stepped into some ethereal room where every soul meets and acknowledges each other. Time stopped. There was no past or future. There was no mountain. There was no cold or wind. And at the same moment there was everything, but from a completely different perspective. Is this how God observes the world?
At 7:10 a.m. we all reached the famous Uhuru Peak at 19,341 ft (5,895 m). The "Roof of Africa" felt bare, simple, calm and very spread out. It mostly felt like some alien field on another planet where they've already developed space tourism and it was a top destination. A sort of "Marsian Venice" with glaciers instead of canals. Anyway, does anybody want to take some pictures?:)
After the pictures were taken, our group was back on track for the final descent, which turned out to be quite strenuous as well. It resembled sliding on your feet on a mountain of sand. A very strange feeling, especially if you've never done it before. I am glad I had some skiing experience in Whistler, Canada right before flying to Tanzania!
When we reached Barafu Hut I was completely exhausted. We slept for 2 hours, then had lunch and another 5 hour hike to Mweka Hut, where I am right now. Tomorrow is the last day, we start at 7 a.m. and will already be at the hotel around 10 a.m. Shower! Yay!
I just had 3 beers "Kilimanjaro" and feel very tipsy. So I should probably go to sleep right now.
That's it, I guess:)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)