BLOG 66 SUFFERING (Gary)

The heat helps.  It can be brutal but Mark and I seem to love it.  It claims us and we give it all up moment by moment as we think we might drop.  It's kind of like our lives.  Both of us have tried so hard to have life be different from what we have known: 107° and no shade and a 25 lb. pack go steadily up hill.  It forces us to do our best at what we know and can do.  It’s really more of the same.

            I know that has been my life, to always be struggling up some kind of hill.  Somehow this is more gratifying and tangible as we have a finish line.  We can see it, it's achievable, and almost immediate compared to other things in life. 

            The tree is our goal.  Just to get to the tree.  The last hill is a bitch and we seem to push each other faster.  The pace has changed, and we are now competing against our last time.  Awe for the mountain, the tree, and to pee.  Maybe something will grow better here due to our efforts.  We check our stopwatches and give ourselves an "Alright!" and a high five or "Oh well, still pretty good" and a fist bump for the day, then a gentle hike down.

            Sometimes I am depleted for three days.  Other times I want to go to the gym and continue the work out.  It seems kind of crazy as I write this to walk three miles up The Hill and three miles back and then want to go work out.  Maybe this is true masochism.  Now that is something I haven't studied.

            Maybe I am addicted to a certain amount of pain.  Where did I possibly learn that?  Well, the military teaches you to survive pain with your buddies.  I most pointedly remember basic training, and a bunch of us sitting in a room full of tear gas after a 4:00 a.m. forced march.  It was cool doing an ordeal together.  I also remember the times I have sat in a sweat lodge with a group of people and “sucked dirt,” got closer to the floor and cooler air, or continued sitting upright in a “warrior sweat.”  Is it good or stupid to be the last one sitting up when you notice even the Shaman is down once the steam clears?  I don’t know.  I felt stupid, alone, and not liking it.  Being the lone survivor sucks, again.  And being the hero . . . eh.

            Maybe it's the group experience, the shared suffering that is so addicting.  I certainly know how it is to suffer pain alone.  This doing it together is very satisfying.  I always tell my clients that doing it alone sucks.  I believe that. 

            I learn as I talk and as I write, yet in the past I couldn't write, and it is only recently that I seem motivated, maybe because, here again, I am not doing it alone.  This could be another difficult journey, but because it is shared I relish the hardship.  I know Mark, who is a writer, is going to push my ass hard to get it done, a commitment to do something very difficult and productive that will require discipline and sacrifice.  How often did he warn me about that?  I am in.  Wow, that actually feels exciting.  Okay, I am addicted to pain and suffering, as long as it is for a good cause.  Maybe our ramblings will influence others to take on a challenge or maybe just enjoy the story of two crazy bastards who love to push our edge physically and emotionally with vibrancy.

            The Hill keeps it simple.  It's grind rocks, pick up glass.  Don't fall on your ass.

            I can recall The Hill breaking me down several times.  It's hard to be resistant to emotions here.  I get vulnerable quickly, especially before something like the Hill of Cruelty. 

            Mark on grief:  “Go deep into the darkness until you find the pinpoint of light.”

            Or, from Gary: “All in to the light through surrender.”

            Mark: “Honor the light.  Use it to turn loss into honoring” (said just before The Hill of Cruelty).  Another form of connection.

            What does it for you?  What opens you up to life and grief?  I challenge you to be awake and connected.  Connected to what?  Yourself, the core of you, and what awakens you and keeps you awake.

            Is it a race or my stream of consciousness carrying me up The Hill?  I love breaking from the shade into the sun.  I find myself in a sauna.  It's the feeling of being baked by the earth and the sun.  I am like the earth here.  The mud and water God put together.  I am cooking like a good bread.  It feels right.  Not at all punishing, as some might hold it, but rather a form of aliveness I feel to my core.

            God, my gut hurts today.  My stomach muscles that I worked out yesterday are talking to me today since my hill hike.  Ah, time to take the shortcut down.


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