Eight years of muscle straining, oxygen deprived, mind exploding, grief-laden work to manage the grip of the skeleton hands of the past.
The rocky terrain and deep crevasses that held the traps of programmed words ready to pull me down into oblivion were navigated at a snail’s pace of impatient mindfulness.
Deafening winds and echoes of the past kept knocking me down, pushing me sideways, making it hard to grip the rope.
After every storm passed
I took the time to rest in the snow caves of acceptance.
So many times, wanting to give up, give in to the beast of symptoms.
But trusting, knowing, that my Sherpa would guide me through the sharpest peaks and deepest valleys.
Summiting many times, thinking there were no more hidden mountains.
Then catching glimpse of the last, gnarly climb looming just around the bend.
Everything inside me screams, “No, leave it!”
I intuitively understood that climbing all but that last steep incline would leave me stuck, and breathless. Allowing space for the blinders to slowly creep back into place.
I push through. One last climb to release the locked, cold grip of the past.
Then quietly, I make a gentle descent.
The thick, foreboding, dangerously tricky mountain range emerging steadfastly behind me.
Scar tissue replaces open wounds.
I work to try and accept my abilities in the wake of my past.
A sense of accomplishment for not giving in to the siren call of hopelessness fills my fragile, resiliently strong whole self.
Committed to finishing that arduous climb and having trust in a committed therapist gave way to a quiet, gentle descent.
With calloused feet on the tender ground
I exhale gratitude every day.
Today, with the mountain range in the distance
I continue to heal on flat land with a warrior tiger as my teacher.
The quiet descent to tender ground holds fast and strong with truth,
with acceptance, and unwavering commitment to living in the light even on the darkest days.
Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph
©words and photo: Alexis Rose
Untangled 
Thanks. You too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank You Drew! I hope all is well in your neck of the woods. Just trying to get through the cold MN winter. Stay warm and healthy my friend. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is very wise. After the storm we need to take a step back, breathe and reflect.
It makes us stronger and wiser. Alexis, hope you and yours are well.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank You. It is fascinating how resilient we are.
LikeLike
Such a great point about not being able to comprehend there could e another peak just a moment before having one revealed to you. It’s fascinating how much more resilient we are than we ever imagine!
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you
LikeLiked by 1 person
Surrounding you with love.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have had ups and downs but ok overall. yes we need to hibernate in order to rejuvenate. hope the new year has been kind and gentle with you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Gina. That really mean a lot to me. I think the past 2 weeks I’ve been resting in a snow cave. I may rest for a few weeks longer.
I hope you are doing Okay. Happy New Year my friend! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
this gives me much strength especially these words ” After every storm passed
I took the time to rest in the snow caves of acceptance.” – you inspire me!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank You for the reblog Barbara 💐
LikeLike
Thanks G. During that time I tried to climb a 14,000 ft mountain and would up getting HACE right before we summited. But the experience definitely gave me lessons and metaphors galore. I bet you are still learning the lessons from your trip? Happy New Year ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on I Walk with a Limp and commented:
The healing power of perseverance…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sounds like an inner trek to Nepal, while I’ve just done the external one. Your journey sounds infinitely more arduous, so well done 🙏🏼
Enjoy that gentle plain, G
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank You!
LikeLike
Very powerful analogy.
LikeLiked by 1 person