Worth the Climb

We stood on the sand, the calm waters nearing us, then falling back with the tide. The three of them were in a stand-off with me. Did I want to hike the nearby cliffs named Giant’s Foot that overlook the ocean with them?

 

I threw out every excuse in the book, which were echoed back to me by each of them in turn:

 

I’m tired. (It’s not that hard, they said).

It’s getting dark. (It’s perfect timing for sunset).

I don’t have the shoes for it. (Neither do we).

We don’t have time. (It’s 15 minutes to the top – yes you do have time).

I’ve never done it. (Then now’s your chance).

You guys are all dudes that are taller than me and it’s easier for you. (We’ll help you.)

Is it even worth the climb? (Of course it is!)

I don’t WANT to do it. (Silence).

 

What did my Viking boyfriend have to say? (I want to go).

 

Outnumbered and out of excuses, off we went – down the beach, towards the trees, and the giant cliff rock that rose 300 feet straight up, rewarding those who scrambled up it epic views of Nicaragua’s Emerald Coast.

 

It was an easy climb until it wasn’t – and the inspiration for this entire story lies in a specific 10-foot vertical slab of rock almost near the top, where the land rose from the coast, narrowed intimidatingly, and jutted sharply out above the ocean below. The dirt path disappeared, replaced by the unforgiving boulder.  Shrubbery and tree roots adorned the massive slate, offering themselves as hand-holds to be wary of. A steep drop to the left and the right of our climb was dizzying, and would surely bang me up all the way down to the black rocks below with just one misstep.

 

Let’s pause right here.

 

In my adult life, I’ve summited 7 volcanoes between Sicily, Nicaragua, and Guatemala. Some at night.

 

I’ve leapt 708 feet off the world’s highest bungee jumping bridge in South Africa.

 

I’ve skydived from small planes at 13,000 feet over valleys in California.

 

And I’ve zip-lined through jungle canopies over rivers I can’t remember how many times in how many countries.

 

I’ve done much that has scared me because I knew that in the end, I’d be glad I had.

 

So when I come up against an opportunity that terrifies me, I wear my brave face anyway. Heart-pounding, shit-scared, and shaky everything.

 

Giant’s Foot triggered all the familiar fears, all these same shakes – even though the Foot was a teeny-tiny fraction of a height compared to other heights I’ve experienced before.

 

Of course, I made it up to the top of this too, eventually – my abandoned excuses exchanged for a panoramic view of the Pacific, stretching all the way south to Costa Rica.

 

So this isn’t a post about bravery, or overcoming your metaphorical mountain.

 

This post is about trust and the intentional act of choosing trust over fear.

 

Keep your intention and purpose at the top of your mind, and trust that these will carry you up.

 

Resist the urge to gaze down at the treacherous drop. Don’t allow your eyes to scan back to the trail behind you, or submit to the vast open space you see beyond yourself as it swallows you whole.

 

Don’t give in to the wild imaginings of painful falls and bloody scrapes and broken bones. Don’t permit your fearful excuses to deter you, or hold you down at the bottom. Remember you are not alone.

 

Trust that focusing on one step up at a time will work out for you. Trust that the hand held out for you from those who’ve gone before will guide you. Trust the knee you’re standing on from those following behind will help lift you up. Trust yourself in choosing the most secure place on the rock to support your footing.

 

Trust your own strength to move you higher.

 

Past risk and threats, and moving higher still until your fears are abandoned on the trail behind, and no longer do you see impossible and dangerous rocks.

 

Step by step, it is trust that will reward you, and all that fills your line of sight is a stunning golden sunset over an exquisite and never-ending sea.

 

~ Christy

 

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