Poem // Meditation 3 Journaling Prompts: Imagine the release of a major burden that you’ve been carrying lately. What part(s) of your body are connected to this burden and what does it feel like to let it go? Invite your hands to that place on your body and send it some deep breaths. What’s leftContinue reading “Abide; V1”
Poem // Meditation You know your way: Your body is the map, your heart the container to bring along all you need for the journey ahead. We rise to mountain tops and we fall into valleys. The shadows leave what is true, if we stay a while. But we don’t, we seek the temporary lightContinue reading “Abide; V0”
Anichka, a five-year-old, smiles sweetly and grabs my frozen hand, leading me toward a tiny house heated by a wood-fire. Before I open the small door, another child named Fafa hands me a soft broom and points to Anichka’s—and his own—dirt-and snow-caked clothes. My stiff hands grasp ahold of the broom and they both giggle asContinue reading “The Forest School”
“He makes me as surefooted as a deer, enabling me to stand on mountain heights.” – Psalm 18:33
As our crags thaw out, climbers shed a few puffy layers in preparation for their warmer-weather rock projects—their native climbing pants accompanying them in both successes and failures. Since the alignment of the stars and planets aren’t always a reliable source to forecast adventures, we turned to these celestial slacks for this season’s climbing horoscopes.Continue reading “Celestial Slacks”
A beautiful blast of cool mountain wind invades the cabin as I open the window. My lumbar spine is sore from sitting so long. I feel my stomach draping over the seatbelt from snacking all day. The hair dancing around my face tangles around itself in a big nest. Sometimes I wish we were justContinue reading “Are We Here Yet?”
The sun radiated through towering pines, laying a canopy over the dusty trail toward Suicide Rock. Idyllwild, California—the true birthplace of the YDS, home to the world’s first 5.9, and central to the rise of rock climbing in the States. On a clear Saturday afternoon, climbing parties danced up the trail to hop on all the classics. My mom and I planned to do our first traditional climb together—Graham Crackers, a two-pitch 5.6.
What to say when the mountains call.