I think I have a problem, I think I think too much. -Maria Mena
That is one of my favorite songs of all time. It jumps into my head when I realize I have been mulling over something far too long to the point where I have lost perspective. It's like I am too close to a Monet painting and all I see is the brush strokes.
I have a hard time feeling successful. I used to depend on teacher's compliments, grades, and awards for feelings of success but now I look around and pray that I can feel Heavenly Father's approval which I know is there.
I love to write, I like to draw, I can read like a racehorse and analyze like...a good analyzer. I love to sing and dance and boy do a love to sit down and watch a good movie. I love working with children, building their confidence and reminding them so much of the love this world has for them.
I can recognize what I am good at and what I need to work on but sometimes I need that immediate gratification.
My mom is a rock climber.
She started when I was about 3 years old and I used to dread it when she would head out on a Saturday and be gone ALL day climbing away in the mountains. I even hid her keys in a vaccum bag once. I never understood the draw of climbing for her.
A couple of years ago, before I got married I finally got to go up with her. The sun was unapologetic but my mother was her optimistic self and encouraged my ability to climb the column of rock before me. I trusted her belief in my ability and so I climbed up.
I have gone occasionally during the summer but it was always just a fun activity to do with my mother. Last summer I didn't go at all being pregnant and then a new mother. But this past Saturday I went up, without my mother. She watched Max so I could just climb and not think about all that motherhood stuff that can get so messy like a Monet painting.
Turns out I am pretty good at climbing. I mean, it's just climbing up rocks but it can get hard at spots and your arms are aching and you can either decide to just go down and try another time or you can continue to go up.
Climbing rock, real rock, is a beautiful experience. There is no music, only the chatter of friends. Nothing to focus on except the rock in front of you and even though you are close up, the rock is straightforward. Sometimes there is a puzzle to find within the grip of your fingers but it is ultimately that pull to get to the top that clears your mind.
One goal. A mix of adrenaline and peaceful clarity and moving up. Then the sweet sigh of success.