Step Away From the Comfort Zone
It took a mountain summit to help me surmount fear in my daily life. Here are four lessons I brought back from an alpine hike.
Does fear hold you back?
I can relate. I remained affixed to a metaphorical mountainside for years, paralyzed by fear of the unknown in my professional life.
Then one day, a trip up a real mountain presented me with an incredible side-by-side view. Sometimes I need the universe to teach me things by showing me other things and leaving me to connect the dots. This is one of those times.
I learned four important lessons the day I summited Hallett Peak in Rocky Mountain National Park just shy of my 50th birthday. Standing at 12,713 feet above sea level, the peak was a formidable enough challenge given my current physical shape and experience. In a list of 82 hikes rated by difficulty, the peak was in the top 10 of most difficult hikes in RMNP.
Lesson #1: What you want to achieve is possible, with some modifications
Years of walking around with over-pronation of my arch had taxed the tendons of my left ankle and foot and the condition was announcing itself in the worst way possible two weeks before we were to leave on this vacation.
When the stiffness intensified to the point where I couldn’t walk normally, I assumed my trip was cancelled. I sobbed to my husband who began considering alternative trips — the relaxing kind that would have us sitting in a lounge chair with a cocktail. Ugh. Not what I wanted. Not now. On this vacation, I wanted to spend as many hours moving as I typically sat in my office job.
When I saw my podiatrist, I found myself saying something utterly ridiculous out loud. “Hey doc, I know I can’t even walk normally, but I really want to go hiking for eight straight days in the Rockies in about two weeks. Pretty funny huh?”
Imagine my shock when he said, “Ok. I’ll help you do that.”
Wait. What?
Hmmmm …. It now seems that what I thought was impossible, wasn’t. Could this apply in other areas of my life?
So thanks to a steroid injection, a couple of weeks of focused physical therapy, some sturdy trekking poles that would transform me into a four-legged mammal, and the decision to keep moving forward, we went for it.
Lesson #2: Don’t shy away from the scary step. It may be the only route to something amazing
At 5:20 a.m., we set out on the trail, guided by our flashlights and the most brilliant full moon. The sun began to light the sky behind the mountains about a mile and a half into our hike and exploded into the most spectacular display of colors. For what turned out to be four hours and 45 minutes in total, I concentrated on making that annoying left foot of mine keep up with the rest of me.
Thankfully, it was a clear day. Clouds most certainly would have given me pause on this journey. But the universe needed to teach me something on this day and the threat of lightning on a mountain summit would have been too much fear to surmount at this juncture. But nothing rewarding is easy, so a cold late-summer wind would have to be the obstacle of choice.
Not far from the summit, I leaned against the mountain in fear. I looked up at my husband who was leading the way and was blinded by the sun. I could barely see him or the cairns that marked the path. With the vastness of Mother Earth all around me and the relentless wind pounding my senses, I quickly became very afraid. I wanted to tell him we were turning back. I couldn’t see where I was going, it was just a climb at this point.
Shortly thereafter, I stepped onto the summit. The glorious, attitude-adjusting summit.
THIS. This was the lesson I needed exactly right now in my life. All the inspiration phrases I had tacked up around my house to motivate me still hadn’t accomplished THIS. All the clichés in the world were just that, until this very moment. I needed to experience this 360-view that symbolized the abundant possibilities of taking a risk.
Now, I get it. And it’s up to me not to waste this message. I promise I will use this lesson well, I whispered to the universe, as soon as I get back down this mountain.
Lesson #3: Discomfort Makes You Stronger
I knew the way down would be rough. I knew that coming down off the mountain summit wasn’t optional. I think that is what kept me pushing to the top. If I had to drag me and that damn foot off that mountain an inch an hour, that’s just how it would have to be.
In all, that hike was an eight hour-day. As I lay throbbing that evening, ice packs covering my ailing foot and ankle, I was overwhelmed. Just as the beauty and awe of the mountains and the achievement had done earlier that afternoon, the aches washed over me as if to solidify the message I so sorely needed.
Suddenly, my mind shifted to my reality at home, where a parallel mountain had been looming.
I had been considering making the leap into the unknown and pursuing self-employment as a writer, but the idea of leaving my job without another one lined up was risky and scary and I still can’t see clearly where I’m stepping, just like the day I searched for the summit in the blinding sun.
This mountain taught me that an amazing view can only be seen by taking a bold step. Also, adaptions are necessary; discomfort serves a purpose; and finally: It is okay to be unapologetically me.
Lesson #4: Give yourself permission to be you, on your own terms
My daily grind had me moving farther away from my strengths.
The part of me that always followed the rules, the part that knew what the theoretical ladder to career success was supposed to look like, never fit me quite right. I had always felt uncomfortable on that upward staircase. I was slow as I tried to trudge up it and always wanted to stray sideways, where I was comfortable and could be creative. Like the journey up a mountain. Gradually up, but with switchbacks. And the vistas where I found the view amazing, I’d stay awhile.
The idea of changing something in my professional life seemed so huge. I got hung up at the juncture where I could no longer see where the path led. That day on the peak, Hallett’s fierce winds screamed at me to pay attention. Back at home, they’re like gentle whispers each day.
I resigned the very day I returned from that trip, on my birthday. I’d be disrespecting Hallett Peak, or as I sometimes call her, Fear Mountain, if I didn’t. Why not give myself permission to accept who I am? Why not stray sideways, slower as I gained strength from my discomfort, and head towards the unknown, adapting as I go, in the direction away from my comfort zone?
Fear isn’t fatal. What I did might be hard for a while. But just like the damned foot which slowed me down, I will get stronger every day, as long as I work on it every day.
And so now, I will accept me.
And I will write.
And I will learn.
And I will grow.
Thank you, Hallett Peak, for getting my attention, spurring me to action and reminding me to focus on using my strengths instead of concentrating on my weaknesses.
