The Summiting Process

As I contemplate this blog entry, I am being serenaded by Peggy Wood (“Climb Ev’ry Mountain” from the musical “The Sound of Music”).  I find this song fitting after a Skype conversation with my mother tonight (As a side-note, I don’t know what it is about talks with mom, but I always come away feeling better and having a deeper understanding of life and God.  I am incredibly blessed by my mom, and I’m excited to be able to tell her that in person this coming Mother’s Day.). 

This conversation led to a “Life’s a lot like that” moment involving my plans to become a nun and the process of climbing Mount Everest.  I was lamenting my anxiety about my future—ever since my Skype interview with a school in Colorado I’ve been over-thinking my future.  If I get the job I will most likely be working with an age-group I haven’t taught since college, and I’m feeling burned out as a teacher after this year in Mexico.  However, if I don’t get the job, it’s like a rejection of a marriage proposal after a four-year courtship (because I worked at this same school for four years before my jaunt in Mexico); well maybe not that dramatic, but I’m a hormonal woman and I jump to illogical conclusions often.  Somehow this conversation moved to a discussion about how maybe life is as hard as it’s going to get, to which I drew the conclusion that life is NOT as hard as it will get, but it’s also not as good as it’s going to get either. 

Thinking about the struggles that are sure to come makes me want to stock up on books and chocolate and find a hole somewhere in which to spend the remainder of my life.  I told my mom that maybe I should convert to Catholicism and become a nun—hiding away in a nunnery sounds better than facing these “mountains” in my life.  And because my brain does not work like a normal person’s, I began thinking about the process of climbing Mount Everest.  Thanks to teaching the novel Peak by Roland Smith, I learned a lot about how someone summits the highest mountain in the world (well, second to Mount Kilimanjaro, but that’s technically because of the bulging of the Equator and not actual altitude above sea-level and so doesn’t really count…).  Climbing Mount Everest requires training.  First you start by summiting smaller hills and continuing to work your way up to bigger and bigger mountains.  The problem with bigger mountains is that they have deeper valleys (but that’s another blog entry entirely…).  Then, when you are ready to attempt the Big One, you can’t just set out and hike straight to the top from sea level—you have to acclimate.  There is not enough oxygen at the top of the mountain to sustain life—if you stay up there too long, you will starve your brain of oxygen.  Climbers must start at basecamp (which has an elevation of 5,380 m (17,700 ft) for the Southeast Ridge approach) for several weeks and then hike up to several of the “camps”, stay a night or two, and then hike back down to lower camps.  This process can be disheartening.  It is counterintuitive to hike down when your goal is up.  But this series of camps helps your body to acclimate and produce the needed red blood cells to make the final summit possible.  Without this process (and the blessing of good weather), you can’t make it to the top. 

Life is a lot like this.  At this stage in my life, I feel like I’m heading back to base camp—the opposite direction from where I think I should be heading.  I want to summit and experience the rush that comes with the amazing sense of accomplishment and the breath-taking view.  But I know that God is helping me acclimate; He’s preparing me for the summit, and I just have to be patient and stick with the process.  If I try to rush to the top, I won’t make it.  If I will just listen to my Guide and follow His process, I will reach the summit, weather permitting.