Howdy,

St. Nicholas paid a visit to my house the other night.  I hung my down bootie from the banister and by the morning of St. Nicholas day, there was chocolate to be enjoyed.  It reminded me of climbing Aconcagua and spending Christmas Day at 5600 metres.  My friend, Judy, had sent me to the mountain with battery-powered Christmas lights and a stocking for Santa to fill.  I carried up candy canes for the team and gave them out after a long, hard climb to camp three.

I’m learning to play the button accordion.  Yes, the button accordion.  It’s a good mental and physical challenge.  I grew up playing the piano accordion.  (Yes, this is my coming out as an accordion player–make all the jokes you want, I can handle it).  On the piano accordion, the reeds make the same sound independent of whether I pull or push the bellows.  On the other hand, the button accordion makes one note when I pull and one note when I push.  I’m learning from a book that calls itself “The PHD of Button Accordion” (push here dummy, pull here dummy).  I’m having to retrain myself to pay attention to whether I’m pushing or pulling.  At some point, in the week I had the thought that this was being good training for life…being aware that it’s near impossible to push and pull in the same moment…or so I thought.

Then I spent the weekend at Buddhist training workshop where we worked with understanding and inviting energies to come into our lives.  We took a hike out one of my favourite trails on Saturday and I spend a lovely chunk of time watching the waves crash against the shore.  I’d been all wrapped up in my decision-making “snow globe” spinning my mind around how to unfold both my life path and climbing path over the next year.  As I sat by the sea, I felt the urgency to “figure it out” drop away and I began to trust that the snow (the multitude of options) in the snow globe would eventually drop and the way would become clear.  We returned to the centre to spend some time writing about our experience and I wrote this poem:

I sit high above the
Waves’ breath crashing below.
Pushing in.  Breathing out.
Pulling out.  Breathing in.
Sometimes in the same moment.

How can I both breath in and breath out in that same moment?
When waves roll in and when waves roll out.
That’s when.

When duality drops away as I recognize that
I am both,
the water below
and the sky above.
That’s when.

Waves and accordions…go figure…the path teaches me so much when I pay attention and it is clear to me that the mountains still have plenty to teach me about ego, daring, fearlessness, authenticity, gentleness, humour, and service so I await the arrival of clarity (at least on a temporary basis) to put some climbing plans in effect. 

In the meantime, I had a “wicked” training session with Phil Alcock (http://www.corehealthspa.ca/) on Friday.  The warm-up consisted off jumping up the stairs one at a time, two at a time, and finally three at a time, while descending head first one hands and feet…keeping my body near the ground (times three).  I cursed Phil last night as I struggled to roll over in bed because of all the lactic acid percolating through my back and abs.  I’m working out lightly because I’ll be attending an ice climbing course out in Alberta between Boxing Day and New Year’s.  I’m wanting to ensure that my ice climbing technique is as efficient as it can be–no one wants to waste precious energy at high altitude.

I’ll keep it brief as it’s a busy time of year.  Happy St. Nicholas Day to you.  Take care.  Breathe deep. 

TA