Finally to the top

Well, after all the weeks of attempting to get ALL THE WAY to the top (and over) the mountain that exists behind the cabin, the snow had finally all melted and we made it. Once you get to the top, it opens up and there are several other trails you can take. There is actually “traffic” up there!

Anyway, we all cheered as we ventured into new territory. Although we had been there last year, no one really remembered so it was new to us.

There was an old trail, no longer able to 4 wheel along, that went straight up. The water had washed out most of the dirt, but also created little pools of water all the way up on little plateaus. I think those were man made so the entire little trail did not wash away. The kids and I decided that some hiking would be fun as we ventured up and decided to hike to the top.

The kids, always running ahead-Hunter leading, ran ahead and made it to the first little pool along the trail. Hunter called out that there was a turtle shell in it. So we all moved faster. A turtle shell on the top of a 10-11,000' mountain. What kind of crazy turtle was this?

Upon our arrival, it did look like a turtle shell, however, I knew what it really was right away. I just did not have the heart to say so. Why be the one to point out reality when it will show itself and the disappointment it may bring soon enough anyway? Let Life teach that lesson, not me!

Katie poked at it and it sank and would resurface after some time. She would poke it again, it would sink, we would wait for the bubbles in this mud puddle to subside and thus went the process.

We left that pond as we heard Hunter yell from above that there was another mud puddle. So we all ran to that pool, again....looking for another turtle shell. We talked of this turtle the entire time we hiked. What kind was it, how did it get there and Katie became determined to get it out of the mud puddle, announcing that she would get to keep it if she did. It could go in her treasure box, but it would belong solely to her as she was planning on doing all the work it would take to get it out. She was the bravest as she fished around in the unknown mysterious murky water.

I went and gathered wild flowers to press and dry. The vision of them still resonates with me. It's windy at the top and the long grasses and flowers bent in honor of that refreshing mountain wind. We could see for miles and miles, the world just laid out in front of us for us to gaze upon and appreciate its glory and amazement.

I stood for a long time, flowers in hand, letting the wing blow through me, over me, taking with it any remorse, regret, sadness that I carried and then allowed the freshness of that mountain wind to fill me with something greater, something pure & simple, something fulfilling to my spirit, something worth carrying back down the mountain with me when our time there came to an end.

The kids were still at the turtle muck puddle. Katie insisted that I hold her hand so she could lean in as far as she could over the muck to move the “shell” with a stick. It's hard to find sticks on top of a mountain because we were far past the tree line. So, even this was a success. I mentioned that some things should just be left as they are. Some things are better to just be left alone, maybe where they want to be. This “turtle” probably had quite the journey to this place so I said I would leave it. Katie insisted and I almost had to say, “Get ready for disappointment,” but said that to myself instead. It was bound to unfold the way it did.

She pulled out one mashed up, clear plastic bottle that looked quite similar to the turtle shell she was fishing out. I mentioned that. She was convinced otherwise. Later, thinking about this afternoon, I realize that is how we all are in a way~ that although something is so plain to see, right there in front of us, we chose to see what we want to see, and more importantly, what we need to see and what we want to believe at the time.

With bravery and determination, Katie fished out the “turtle” shell. It was merely a flattened clear plastic bottle, quite similar to the other one. Her shoulders sank with disappointment and I heard her sigh and say as she shook her head, looking at it, “Sorry guys. I think it was that bottle all along. I am so disappointed.” Hunter came to her, stood by her, put his arm around her waist, his shoulders equally as slumped. To my surprise he said, “I am sorry Katie.”

I had to ask him later why he thought to say sorry at that time. He told me that is was him who had first said it was a turtle shell. It was as if he knew he had started the hope in Katie about that bottle being something more, although that was what he believed it to be as well. It was heart warming for me to see in him such warmth and compassion come from him and direct it towards Katie. He stood by her, offering an apology, because he could see & essentially feel her disappointment. I was really proud to be his mom on top of that mountain that day.

We headed down, with our original plan to find more mud and collect aluminum cans on the way down. It was quiet as we descended and I got to thinking about that “turtle shell” and the valuable lessons we had just learned up there in the pass. We never did make it to the top and that did not really matter to us anymore because the lessons we learned were more important than our final destination.

What did we learn standing at the edge of that muck puddle hoping so desperately to retrieve the shell? So many things.

As a child, Hunter learned compassion and how to apply in when the time is right. He learned togetherness and shared responsibility. He learned that sometimes all you can offer is a kind word and soft touch and that regardless of how small that may seem at the time, it can be grand.

I think Katie's lesson was even deeper. I think she learned that despite how you might hope for something to be something it is not, it just is going to be what it is and sometimes, with that, comes great disappointment. How often have we all been misled into believing something will be what we so hope for and it just is not what we expected and hoped for it to be. Rather it is just another disappointment or some sort of let down. How have we learned to weather those disappointments?

Katie learned that life goes on. Maybe her shoulders were hung down, heavy with disappointment, and that “ah shucks” kind of feeling held her for awhile, but as we descended, she found other things to smile about. She was able to leave that disappointment there by the muck puddle, draw a line in the sand and step forward, still hopeful for her future, what awaits her in this Life.

Benjamin, although busy doing his own thing, was witness to all this love & compassion, learning about family, how to treat people, when to “show up” when someone needs you.

As a parent, I learned it is much easier to allow your children to learn these lessons on the edge of a muck puddle on top of a mountain than it will be to learn later on when we are all older, more set in our ways and less likely to handle disappointment with the grace of a child versus the sunken spirit of an adult. I realized that she was going to have this heavy-hearted feeling after her discovery despite my best efforts to redirect her and yet, had to respect the lesson enough to step away and let her work through it, being present for her, and yet creating a distance so she could come to realize how to move through such feelings & experiences relying on her own self confidence. And she lived to tell about it.

If I were to move all the road blocks out of the way for my kids, I believe that in the long run, I have done them a great disservice by never allowing them to learn how to move them themselves in the safety of their own childhood, wrapped in the love of our family. Even more, is that they would never have the opportunity to learn to BELIEVE in their ability to do so which, in my opinion, is ultimately more important that actually overcoming. I think our family is safe place to fall, a soft spot in a world that can seem hard at times.

Scott and I sure do love those kids ~ how can ya not, ya know? And yet, as an adult, it is such a balancing act to know what to allow to penetrate and when to step in and assist in helping them move through things on their own.

How to you create opportunities to experience pride in oneself or a sense of strength within your spirit during childhood?

That stupid clear plastic bottle, although at first glance was simply garage, actually delivered something quite special to all of us.

So, down the mountain we went, each kid singing their own song, Katie reciting her 1^st grade play, 'Rose Red & Snow White”, Hunter making up his own songs about loving Mother Earth and little Benjamin mostly just having a conversation with himself.

We stopped and played in the mud. The kids talked of “mud school”, created a new path for the running water, diverting it over the edge. Funny how redirecting water can be empowering for them. For some reason, it is like they can actually see their impact.

I rested. I laid back on the 4 wheeler and watched the clouds go by. The day before we had been at the rodeo where the kids had gorged themselves on cotton candy. Not really, I bought one bag for them all to share, and that was plenty. Obviously. And now, here the clouds were, slowly drifting by, pulling apart just like that cotton candy. The wind, more gentle now, rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees, creating a vision and sound of natural static. I am not sure how long I stayed watching, experiencing, living into it- but a peacefulness & joy wrapped itself around me and settled deep into my heart. I felt happy. I felt satisfied. Completely content with everything.

We got back late, after dinner time, and Scott was beginning to worry. He was thinking about an intervention, asking himself if he should start up the mountain to find us.

But we arrived, singing, a bit sun burned, filthy and full of joy!