Forgive my long absence–as much as you prepare yourself for it, the end of semester as a graduate student is remarkably draining. That not only means I’ve had less time to play, but as it turns out, less time to think as well. Sitting down to write is how I process through many of the lessons and realities and kinesthetic learning opportunities that I treasure so much about being an active person, and I frankly haven’t been playing near enough.

I’ve hit the gym a few times here and there, always feeling a little guilty because there were so many other tasks & people vying for my energy and attention. I even broke through my grade ceiling for the first time, which had been one of my goals for the year. (I don’t make resolutions, and I don’t set yearly goals–usually. I just happened to list out some late last January in a flash of forward thinking.) So then I hadn’t even noticed what a toll this relative inactivity has been taking on me, because in spite of all that, I HAVE been doing a lot of things I love, and spending a lot of blessed time alone.

Back in November, there was a talk around the campfire in Joshua Tree one night about when it was that we each considered ourselves “climbers”. I’ve never been good at pinpointing moments or specific events as markers of change like that, save for one, which is sort-of-but-not-really tied to my climbing life. A year ago August (which was a year from the week I’d had ankle surgery to repair an injury I’d sustained in my first few months of climbing) I hiked Half Dome for the very first time. I hesitate to mark this as a defining moment in my life, but in reality, it was, and in ways I don’t quite understand. Even in that, there wasn’t a specific, markable second in which I perceived some change–the best I can offer is that somehow, in that process I fell in love with those places and feelings. The fear and the challenge and the beauty.

Not long after that I made my first trip outdoors to climb, and in the following months had the privilege of meeting other climbers (some of whom have become very dear friends), going on many trips, and blowing wide open my love for and understanding of a passion for climbing and being outside. I still daily wear a small necklace with a tiny Half Dome pendant, though I’m not much of a jewelry girl and otherwise markedly inconsistent in my wearing of any sort of amulet.

All of that said, I have to confess that without the immediacy of activity, be it climbing or skydiving or running, I eventually start to feel like I’m not a climber/skydiver/runner. And so lately, in spite of the gym sessions and short neighborhood runs, I’ve felt like I’m not a climber or a skydiver or a runner, and that makes me sad. I’m using the downtime of the holidays to think on this and spend time doing other things I love, like knit and read. I look forward to my next trips and events and I’m trying to be optimistically patient about each one.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 29th, 2009 at 6:34 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.