Chomolungma: Mother God

"Evenings were peaceful, smoke settling in the quiet air to soften the dusk, lights twinkling on the ridge we would camp on tomorrow, clouds dimming the outline of our pass for the day after. Growing excitement lured my thoughts again and again to the West Ridge….

There was loneliness, too, as the sun set, but only rarely now did doubts return. Then I felt sinkingly as if my whole life lay behind me. Once on the mountain I knew (or trusted) that this would give way to total absorption with the task at hand. But at times I wondered if I had not come a long way only to find what I really sought was something I had left behind.” 

~Thomas F. Hornbein~

Tibetian or Nepalese Sherpas call Everest, Chomolungma. It means "Mother God". The mountain, like Alaska's Denali, is a holy place for the "locals". It should be. The mountain has claimed lives and reminded us mere mortals who really is in control. It certainly isn't us. It's no wonder the people of the Himalayas call Everest "Mother God". 

Hearing an interview with a sherpa about what is better-to have a strong mind or a strong body to ascend the mountain, he said "You must have both. Strong mind and weak body, you can't do anything. Strong body and weak mind, you can't do anything. To get to Heaven you need both." I am always reminded, and I spend my days reminding people, that we must have balance in our lives so that we may get places, climb the mountains of our soul and overcome the things that keep us from achieving our own personal summits.

I'm guilty of often overworking myself. I definitely justify it by saying there's only one of me and I have a lot to accomplish. There are cultures, including Western culture, that praise work-a-holism. The Japanese have a word, Karōshi, that means "work death". Western corporate culture would just call it dedicated...or stupid.  It makes it difficult to have a strong mind when your body is being pushed to it's limits. And vice versa.

So, one of the reasons I moved to a smaller community and accepted the position I did was that I wanted to work on my work-life balance. I was regularly pulling up to 60 hour work weeks. That's a lot for anyone. Especially single mothers with no co-parenting partner. I craved slowing down in an area that was picturesque and close to nature so I could rest and spend time with my children, do all the things I never had enough time for while I continued to "scale my mountain".  I wanted to make sure my mind and body were strong and balanced.

No one told me slowing down would afford me ample time to reflect on all the things I may have missed as I was ascending my own personal Everest in life's work. I still have a ways to climb to feel like I've made a difference in what I do, so I know there will be a little more work and loneliness ahead of me. I'm fine with that. I know where I go on my journey is not entirely up to me. I have a team of people at work that helps keep me on track, as well as friends who encourage, challenge, guide me and keep me company. That's not the most difficult part.

The time I have the hardest with is when there is no one. Late at night. Or when my children are otherwise engaged. When I slow down enough to "sit on my summit after climbing purposefully" to realize that no one else is sitting here but me. That's when I wonder if all this climbing won't take a toll on my physical or mental health. Having too much focus can be a detriment. You have to rest to be able to make it to the top. That's why the various camps on ascents are so important. You have time to rest and time to acclimate to the new altitude.

Hearing climbers talk about ascents, you learn they have to listen to their bodies, their intuition, work together with their team and defer to forces greater than themselves to survive. They rely on experts who know better than they to keep them safe. It doesn't matter their position or class wherever "back home" is. They're not the boss here...You HAVE to rest. You HAVE to be patient. You have to be ready for anything. Or sometimes nothing.

Literally being on top of the world must be a lonely, life changing experience. One that takes your entire focus away from ego and makes you focus on listening to your body and your guides to survive. Knowing when it's safe to go on. Knowing when you should stay put. And company to help keep you alive while you're in a storm or on a precarious ledge. Focus is necessary for everything we do. Focusing too much on what you're doing and you miss the vantage point you've ascended to or the people who keep you company. You miss the beauty around you, behind you and within you. Why climb if you can't enjoy the view?

I know what I seek isn't behind me, but is in front of me. I know I won't miss my view because I have people with me. Working with me. Cheering me on. Keeping me feeling like I'm not doing this alone. None of us have to get through this alone. A bit of loneliness sometimes means we understand that sometimes we take our journeys solo for a little bit. But, we can't make it to the top without help. That's the thing. We can only ascend our summits by climbing together. Clipped in. In a line. Purposefully putting one foot in front of the other so we can make it together. We can't make it to the top without being mentally and physically strong. We have to take time to rest our weary bodies and quiet our minds.

I'll save a seat for you. I'll be waiting here on my summit. Sitting in the soft light, looking at the timeless stars winking their approval down on me while I wait. Looking out at the breathtaking beauty below me, behind me and within my soul. I'll wait so we can touch Heaven together, blessed by forces older than time as we sit on the pinnacle. Totally absorbed in achieving the ascent together so we can work our way back down to earth.