If you’ve been following me for a while, you know that
\nI’ve had quite a lot of recent experience with people
\nclose to me “kicking the bucket.” The result had been a
\npersistent obsession with my own demise.<\/p>\n
When on a steep hillside on my riding mower, I’d be
\nthinking about the mower tipping over on top of me,
\nsevering a limb. Would I want to live?<\/p>\n
When planning my spring trip to the Grand Canyon, I was
\nsure I’d fall to my death while rock climbing. Before
\nthe trip I found myself talking with my siblings about
\nmy wishes should I not return alive.<\/p>\n
Similarly, while planning a trip around Mt. Rainier in
\nsnowy June, I was filled with images of sliding off the
\nedge of an icy cliff, or breaking a leg or being buried
\nin an avalanche. This was not difficult to imagine,
\nsince the week before our trip, six climbers were
\nkilled there in an avalanche.<\/p>\n
But something happened on that Mt. Rainier trip that
\nchanged everything.<\/p>\n
When we were about to set out, the park rangers told us
\nno one had yet successfully circumnavigated the
\nmountain this early in the season. There was too much
\nsnow, making navigation difficult and dangerous. A
\ncritical bridge was washed out, so we’d have to cross a
\nraging glacial river. Then, we heard that a group had
\nsurvived, but dearly wished they’d had ice axes and
\ncrampons–which we hadn’t brought along. <\/p>\n
If we managed the river crossing, we’d reach a
\nparticularly steep mountain side that would be
\nespecially tricky if it was icy. One of my companions
\nhad already fallen and slid down snowy slopes several
\ntimes, once onto a nasty pile of sharp boulders.<\/p>\n
The river crossing wasn’t nearly as bad as predicted.
\nBut, when we reached the slope in question, it was even
\nsteeper than I’d feared. Sure enough, beneath the snow
\nwas a layer of ice I was too light to break through.
\nTranslation: no traction, and huge potential for
\nskidding hundreds of feet, into the great beyond.<\/p>\n
Several things could have happened here. One, my
\nobsession with dying could have resulted in
\nunconsciously making that outcome true. Since I’m
\nwriting this, you know that didn’t happen. <\/p>\n
Two, my fear could have propelled me to turn back. But,
\nthe way back wasn’t much less treacherous than the way
\nforward, and would have presented enormous logistical
\nproblems. <\/p>\n
The third possibility, which is what happened, is that
\nmy fear translated into utter determination to stay
\nupright on my own two feet, every step down that slope.<\/p>\n
The unexpected result of surviving that hour unscathed
\nwas total elation. We survived! Even better was the
\nlonger term result of feeling firmly planted in my
\nlife. Gone is the feeling of fragility, mortality,
\nambivalence about being alive.<\/p>\n
Now, how can you apply this story to your own life?
\nWhat’s the take home point?<\/p>\n
Is it, “Face Your Fear?”
\n “Step Outside of Your Comfort Zone?”
\n “Embrace Life?”
\n “Come Alive by Facing Death?”<\/p>\n
To me, its value is that I wrote it down. <\/p>\n
As I read this story I wrote almost a month ago, it’s a
\ngreat antidote to feeling out of sorts because it
\nreminds me of all the feelings of elation, of strength,
\nconfidence, gratitude, amazement, of feeling so
\noverstuffed with life that I felt I’d burst.<\/p>\n
That’s what I’d suggest to you: when something
\namazingly good happens in your life, find a way to
\nrecord it so you can use it in the future at some time
\nwhen you feel discouraged, powerless, sad.<\/p>\n
It doesn’t have to be a death-defying wilderness
\nadventure. It could be anything that at the time led to
\nyou feeling amazed, relieved, proud, awed, overjoyed…
\nAnything that makes you feel empowered, lucky, good
\nabout yourself is good to notice and remember.<\/p>\n
The more you practice noticing and remembering all the
\ncool, amazing, fabulous, lucky, wonderful things you’ve
\nexperienced, the better your life gets.<\/p>\n
Will you share something that happened in your life
\nthat helped you feel good on remembering it?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
If you’ve been following me for a while, you know that I’ve had quite a lot of recent experience with people close to me “kicking the bucket.” The result had been a persistent obsession with my own demise. When on a steep hillside on my riding mower, I’d be thinking about the mower tipping over… Continue reading More Life and Death Adventures<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[22],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1003","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-law-of-attraction","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/happyhealthsystem.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1003","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/happyhealthsystem.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/happyhealthsystem.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/happyhealthsystem.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/happyhealthsystem.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1003"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/happyhealthsystem.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1003\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1004,"href":"http:\/\/happyhealthsystem.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1003\/revisions\/1004"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/happyhealthsystem.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1003"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/happyhealthsystem.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1003"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/happyhealthsystem.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1003"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}