Goal-setting is a funny thing. This morning, I asked the woman at my local bakery if she had any 2020 resolutions, and she said “NNNOPE! Those give me anxiety, and just make me feel bad when I don’t do them”. I totally understand the feeling-- a lot of us approach resolutions as all-or-nothing entities, and the moment we lapse we give up, and then feel bad about it. This is dumb.
As we start setting sights on the mountains we’d like to climb in 2020, here’s one of my favorite passages on how to conquer them:
“Mountains should be climbed with as little effort as possible and without desire. The reality of your own nature should determine the speed. If you become restless, speed up. If you become winded, slow down. You climb the mountain in an equilibrium between restlessness and exhaustion. Then, when you’re no longer thinking ahead, each footstep isn’t just a means to an end but a unique event in itself. This leaf has jagged edges. This rock looks loose. From this place the snow is less visible, even though closer. These are things you should notice anyway. To live only for some future goal is shallow. It’s the sides of the mountain which sustain life, not the top. Here’s where things grow. But of course, without the top you can’t have any sides. It’s the top that defines the sides.” - Robert Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
[If you’ve ever been on a trek with me, you’ve probably heard me try to recite (/completely botch) this]
Trekking can be just as mentally challenging as it is physical. Back when I was taking teenagers up the southern part of the Appalachian Trail, mental/emotional/physical breakdowns were a daily occurrence. On any given day, we’d aim to hike about 15-20 miles with full packs (not today’s ultra-light gear, but think cast-iron skillets and bulky 4 person tents). I saw hundreds of blisters & bites, tears & tantrums, and other indescribable things that would be too embarrassing to mention. I saw it all on that trail. Sometimes it seemed to never end.
Making it to our checkpoint with enough time to set up camp before dusk was always a daunting task. To keep the group moving, we would set “tree goals”. The idea is that rather than focusing on the tall pass ahead and the fact that you’re still not there, you’d just look 15 feet in front of you for the next tree and make that your "tree goal". Once you made it there, you'd look for the next tree, or boulder, or bush. This is also a practical navigational tool if you have lost the trail, but have an idea where you are trying to be. We’d set tree goals for everything— breaking big goals down into micro-goals.
One of my past participants after a Mont Blanc trek wrote:
“I spent the week walking from France to Switzerland to Italy to Switzerland to France. On the days where we ascended 4000' in 2 hours, or 2800' in one hour, and all I could see were my own feet and all I could hear was my own breath, as sweat shot my sunglasses right off my face, I found an unexpected zen. If I looked up to see where I had to go, I was overwhelmed. It was just too far and too endlessly UP. Granite vertical slabs of mountain range, miles of waterfalls tumbling down, huge glaciar pockets, and tiny people ants crawling endlessly vertically.
Better just to look just in front of me, taking one step at a time, trusting that my jagged breath, which I struggled to even - deep into the nose, long breath out of the mouth - would support one step. Just one. Just one breath. Just one.”
For the record, this participant (and dear friend) cursed me and our cheery French guide out a few times on the trail, but by the end of it, told me that the trip was transformational. Growth happens on the sides of mountains.
A new decade is only a few hours away, and if you are looking for new ways to break your mold/ challenge yourself, here are some bucket-list ideas for you…
Is there anything on your bucket list that you’ve wanted to tackle, but haven’t? Let me know in the comments!
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