Through the Rain

“I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.”

-
 John Burroughs

Years ago, before I started craving nature, winters meant periods of staying indoors.  I'd do things outside during the summers, but didn't enjoy the cold, so winters (or two thirds of the year) were spent mostly indoors.  And yet it's amazing what variety - the spice in life - can do.  First it was the hiking boots, then the snowshoes, and now two pairs of skis, and winter has taken on a whole new meaning.  So has the change in seasons.  Over hardships and challenges, the last two-and-a-half years have taught me to appreciate everything.  The 'old normal' is no more, but this week we learned that we should have another Christmas together; that is simply precious.  I haven't had as much energy as I've had this past day in a long time. A weight has been lifted off, at least for now.  Month after month I am amazed at what we can put our bodies through ...

Eventually, however, you reach a point where you feel you cannot go further, you cannot do more, and your body tells you it's time to stop.  I'd thrive by moving quickly ahead at work, being able to achieve more than most, seeing that as success.  I felt proud to be offered a promotion that one normally gets when you're closer to 50.  As part of the transition, they made me take a test - it seemed like a psychological profile of sorts.  I was convinced that it was a way for them to figure out how I think and how I would react under certain situations, how I'd make decisions, and how I'd lead a team.  And, sure enough, afterwards it was revealed to me that the 'test' was The Attentional & Interpersonal Style Inventory.  It's used to develop high performance managers and to predict how you would make decisions in high-pressure situations.  The army uses it.  Not really caring what work thought about it, I was actually fascinated because maybe I'd learn something new along the way.  I ended up being called into a meeting with our HR Director for my results were highly unusual.  The 27-page analysis started like this:

We need your help explaining your TAIS inventory attentional profile.  Your profile is highly impressive and statistically quite rare.  In particular, the scores on all three of your attentional styles are well above those of their corresponding distraction scores.  Translation: By your answers you are indicating that you are keenly aware of your moment-to-moment surroundings, AND you're able to put ideas together, anticipate consequences, plan, and devise strategies far better than most people AND THEN you can turn around and focus on all the details as you follow through on almost all that you've sensed and planned.  Further, you can switch from one of these styles to another in the flick of an eye, and can do this even under high levels of pressure.  Almost everyone you meet is less capable than you are in these regards. 

It goes on for pages and pages that to this day I have not fully read, but in that paragraph I started to see something important: namely, that which makes me feel utterly and completely burned out.  Drained and unfulfilled.  I shared the analysis with a friend and business person, who felt that yes, it's an accurate assessment of myself.  In a way it was scary and I began to see that I cannot do it all.  I am not perfect, and I need breaks.  Big breaks.  The relative impulse of embarking on a journey to get away from it all - my trip to the West Coast - was the start of a journey to do less.  That trip, and particularly the week-long solo backpack, was the best thing I could have ever done for myself.  Again, I was surprised at what we can do and achieve if we simply go for it.

Fast forward to the end of September.  While my fainting spells have been under control for several months, I had quite severe chest pain for a week.  One Thursday morning as I was sitting at my desk at work, the left side of my body went numb.  Within a second I felt nothing on that side.  Not willing to take any risks, I immediately went to Urgent Care.  While we have issues locally with long wait times, I was lucky to be seen by a doctor within a couple of minutes of arriving.  Monitors got strapped to me, I was sent for x-rays, had blood work done, and later was sent to a cardiologist. A few days later they put me through the treadmill test, upped the incline and speed and I kept going and going.  The diagnosis: heart is fine, heard a possible minor murmur, but this was an episode of severe stress.  Apparently that happens in chronic cases.  And I should do less.  I hate hearing those words for it's far easier said than done. You don't get breaks from dealing with cancer.  Work pays the bills, but can also serve as an escape.  However, this was another eye opener moment and I have since declined my promotion.  Working 10-hour days now, and getting a few minutes less each week.  It's a start.

As part of my headache assessments and fainting spells, and still trying to figure out why exactly that's been happening these last two years, I was referred to a kinesiologist.  We talked, she went through my history, and I was expecting to be bombarded with unreasonable (for me) demands such as going for cardio x number of times each week, working on endurance, blah blah blah.  It was quite the opposite though and she actually understood that people don't stick with these demands if they don't find them enjoyable.  She paid attention to how I sit, how I do things, and, amazingly, a potential trigger started revealing itself: I sit, lean, do things slightly to my left.  I also sit on my left foot very often.  Combined with stress, that can be part of why this pressure - this thing - that I have felt in the left side of my head is one-sided.  Fascinating stuff.  She went through activities I enjoy, tried to pin-point things that align themselves with good posture, and recommended new things.  Her 'prescription': to start doing yoga in order to de-sress and align my body, and climb to stretch out and develop more muscle.  And so began a journey a little away from hiking and more towards yoga and back into indoor climbing.

Previously I saw yoga as a fad.  The Lululemon types would do it, and I seemed scarred from our yoga at work several years ago.  It seemed too slow for me.  I was a skeptic.  What would I get out of that?  But, not wanting to show up to my next appointment with the kinesiologist without having done my homework, luck started coming my way.  The day after my initial assessment with her, a groupon was offered: 30 yoga classes for $20 (total!) at a few studios throughout the city.  This would allow me to do exactly what she asked me to - explore various styles and studios to find a good fit, but stay far away from hot yoga (for it would surely make me faint).  Incredibly the first studio I tried is perfect for me.  It has 7:30pm classes so that I have time to get changed after work without rushing, the instructor is amazing, and their style (the Iyengar type) uses props, which to me makes it more fun.  As you progress up through the levels, you can end up dangling from ropes on the walls.  Seems to fit with the indoor climbing if you ask me.  In all seriousness though, it has been an incredible journey.  It's the one time where my mind can shut off, my body releases tension, and I feel completely renewed afterwards.  In a way it feels like a 'high' - so calm, so relaxing, rejuvenating.  I'll be sticking with that. 

Further on the exercise front, I've decided to stick with low-impact activities to fully heal a knee injury and to focus more on technique rather than speed.  That'll work just well as cross-country ski season is just around the corner.  The cardiologist made me see what my limits are, what my maximum exertion should feel like, and I need to stick with that.  I need to go at my own pace, not trying to catch up with others.  West Coast Trail was perfect for that, and it probably explains why I've come to enjoy solo hikes.   If you had told me a year ago that I would be embarking on some of these adventures alone, I would have said no way.  Again, amazing what we can achieve when we set our minds to something.  I musta dmit though that in a way I miss the 'old days' with carpools and the looooong Saturdays.  It was a ritual.  This weekend will by my first weekend based out of the city in a long time, but I haven't heard from my regular Saturday buddies, so suspect they're up to a bigger/faster outing.  That means it'll be a ski day for me, going at my own pace.  Nature is soothing and it's so special when you heard nothing but your own footsteps, maybe some water, rain, or now the glide of the skis. 

Perhaps it's time to head in a new direction, and I've decided to just follow the path, whatever that path may be.  It's special that a journey of solo hikes started when I went to Lake O'Hara for little Sophia Oesa's 'birthday'.  It's one of the most special days I remember from this year, and it's also allowed me to move forward.  Just this past month as well I've decided to no longer pursue the adoption option.  I don't want to dwell on the negatives; international adoptions basically require one to be married for two years before a placement, while open adoptions within Canada where the birth mother chooses the parents always have the placements go to married couples.  Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.  I still get sad about that every so often, but need to look for meaning in other things.