From a place of joy

– She doesn’t get eaten by the eel at this time.

– WHAT!?

– I’m explaining to you because you look nervous.

– I’m not nervous. Well, maybe I was a bit…concerned but that’s not the same thing.

– The Princess Bride

Before we continue with Part 2 of our story about self-trust, I want to set you at ease.  The journey to renew your enthusiasm isn’t all crazy head work.  Sometimes you have these ridiculously sublime unguarded moments.

Like when a new climbing partner suggested that I try this indoor climb way harder than my current abilities (5.11b, for those climbers following along).  It was such a crazy suggestion, I knew I couldn’t do it – so all thoughts of being able to actually complete the climb went out the window.  Along with my ego.

I smiled as I tied the rope to my harness.  I turned to the wall, wondering what a climb this hard would feel like?  “Climbing,” I called.  “Climb on,” she replied.  It was tough.  The holds were tiny crimps.  The only way I could stay on my toes was to hug my hips and core into the wall, keeping my arms straight – like you imagine Spider Man climbing, only you didn’t know he had to work this hard at it.  I got a few feet up.  Stopped several times.  Felt gravity trying to pull my body off the wall.  Felt my core muscles fighting to keep me in.  I sat on the rope to rest.  It’s not so impossible.  Hee.  I smiled again.

“Now remember,” my partner shouted, “when you get to this next part, you’re going to cross your hands – grab left, cross-over right, then cross-over left, and then your body is going to want to swing into the wall. Just shift your body weight so that your left hip stays close to the wall.”  (We call these instructions “beta” for the non-climbers following along.)

Climbing from a place of joy

The author - climbing from a place of joy in The Gunks

Squeeee!  I did it.  At least that one sequence.  By this time, I had a huge smile on my face.  It was really hard.  But it was a fun hard.  It exerted forces on my body that I hadn’t felt before.  It woke me up to what I have to learn.  I stopped many times, but learned a lot.  I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun while flailing!

A few days later, I climbed with another friend.  I said, “Hey!  I’m going to try this climb again.”  I remembered.  I remembered that feeling of joy.  I laughed, and said the climb was going to hand my ass to me.  Then I launched.  I stopped only once on the way to the top, amazing myself.  I felt precarious, but I kept moving, breathing loudly.  It was sweet!

The head fake here?  I climbed it well because I attempted it from a place of joy.  And a lack of attachment about getting to the top.

That’s the space from which I want to live my life.  From that space of joy inside me.  I’ve felt it before, but I don’t think I’d ever operated from that space until that moment.

…I, I, I wasn’t expecting
But who am I to tell fate where it’s supposed to go with it?
Don’t you blink you might miss it
See we got a right to just love it or leave it
You find it and keep it
Cause it ain’t every day you get the chance to say
Oh, this is how it starts, lightning strikes the heart
It goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun
Oh, we could be the stars, falling from the sky
Shining how we want, brighter than the sun
I’ve never seen it, but I found this love I’m undefeated
You better believe, I’m gonna treat it better than anything I’ve ever had
Cause you’re so damn beautiful …

– Colbie Caillat, Brighter than the Sun

2 thoughts on “From a place of joy

  1. When I consciously remember to perform my flying trapeze tricks – the really tough ones – from my place of joy (and happiness), I seem to always succeed. That awareness really does make a difference.

    Thanks for sharing.

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