Stronger

Generally with the onset of a new year folks start taking stock of the previous year, and start to get all resolutiony and junk.  I've never been one for New Year's Resolutions.  I just don't pay enough attention to the calendar.  And I've got a bit of a goal setting phobia.  My life experience has yielded this little proverb:  "If you shoot for the stars hitting the trees is a disappointment.  If you shoot for the grass hitting the trees is a pleasant surprise."  And, since either way I'm gonna end up in the trees I haven't bothered making any goals.  If I am to own up, I've been a chicken.

Only, maybe things are a little different now.

The view from half-way up the trail

Last June I climbed Angel's Landing.  It's a wicked-cool hike in Zion National Park with steep drop-offs, loads of switchbacks, a section of open scrambling, and incredible views.  It's labeled as a "strenuous" hike, and not for folks who are squeamish about heights.  So, though I'd prepared for the hike, I was a little nervous.  I have pretty severe asthma, making me a titch concerned about the change in elevation--I mean, I live at sea level, for cryin' out loud.  And just how hard is "strenuous" anyway?  Nevertheless, Sandy and I hit the trail about 6:30 a.m., and by about 9:45 we had summited, snacked, and returned to the shuttle stop.  I couldn't believe it.  We were done.  A little over three hours, and we were done!  And I wasn't even very tired.  I felt like I'd been working pretty hard, and I was getting hungry again, but I felt like I could keep going, that I might even enjoy another pretty mile or two or three.

Without realizing it, I had flung open a door-- I found myself saying, "What else can I do?  I can hike Angel's Landing-- what else am I capable of?"  And so it is that I began riding Emma's bike, I had the kids teach me to boogie board (holy smokes, that's fun!), I started pushing my bike and foot speeds, and I started doing chin-ups every time I walked past Gabriel's doorway, because I wondered, "Could I do one?  How about another one?"  And I've gotten stronger and stronger.


Over the New Year holiday week I went with some commonly minded friends to go look at the beautiful world.  We visited some beaches and estuaries, we hiked a little coastline and peeked in some tide pools.  We photographed the local pinnipeds, a variety of birds, lots of spent vegetation and a little new growth.  One of the company was a skilled photographer, with whom I chatted about equipment, photo-editing, and what-not.  I mentioned that I was thinking about purchasing a macro lens, he wondered if I'd ever used extension tubes, I hadn't.  The following week he sent a link for a cheep-ish lens he'd happened upon on craigslist.  I hemmed and hawed about whether or not to get that macro lens.  As I did so I realized with a shock that I have been planning to buy a macro lens for seven years.  Seven years.  Why hadn't I done it?  I had lots of fake reasons, but the juice of it really was that I didn't believe my skill merited the cost.  And that was just unacceptable.  As it turned out, the macro lens suggested wasn't quite right; I ordered a set of extension tubes instead, a kind of halfway step toward a real big-girl lens.  All the same, I find myself, again, standing in front of another door thrown wide open.  I've been looking at my own photographs differently, realizing for the first time that I might actually have some talent, and that if was willing to study a bit and work at it, I could be quite good.  I find myself saying, "What else can I do?"

And I already begin to feel stronger.