img_3073“Ok, you’re up” , the voice is directed at me. Oh God, I think, Im ready and yet not. Its been over a year since I rock climbed. The questions have been boiling in my head all afternoon as I have watched my friends climb this  “warm up” route. What happened to me? Why am I not in the climbing shape I once was. Was that really so long ago? Am I now just too old and out of shape to participate in this sport that I used to love? When did Vertigo kick in? What about my chronic knee pain, will this make it worse? I used to be fearless, strong, confident.

Now I can barely remember how to tie into my harness.

Thankfully I am amongst good friends. Compassionate and kind friends that will cheerlead me through this challenge that awaits just as I have been cheering them on all day.

OK, here I go.

Vic hands me the rope , I fumble. Damn, I cant even remember how to tie in! “Its OK” he says in that slightly condescending way with that knowing smile, ”I will help you”. And so he does and now Im standing at the base of the climb. At the beginning.

The climbing lingo exchanges: “Dude on Rock” on I say, Vic replies, “Rock on Dude.”

Unlike indoor climbing where the routes are set up with playfully color coded rubber holds to follow, outdoors, on the real granite,  the climber must decide.

How to begin.

Where to start.

The possibilities are endless.

The questions begin again to flood in. Can I really do this? God, its practically vertical for crying out loud! How long will it take me?

I realize this is exactly like being in early labor.

So, here I go.

My right foot angles like a ballet dancer in a point shoe on a tiny nub, Left hand delicately placed on a crystal, Right hand slipped gingerly into the crack, Left foot placed as high as possible on a small outcrop. And I hear “just step up.…”  Just step up I repeat to myself.  ARGH! I fall immediately. I try again, I try yet another time and slip again.  And again, Im easily getting frustrated. Now Vic is there, my rock climbing doula, “Its OK I hear him say, I know you are  afraid, this is the hardest part. Try again, this time use your breath, get out of your head. Stop thinking so much.”

Ohhhhh, now the shoe is on the other foot. For years I have been telling women exactly the same thing! Breathe, get out of your head, stop thinking so much!

So I try again, and I’m on! Oh man Im thinking, here it is,  Im in the flow now!  I get three moves up and again, Im stuck.  But now Im pretty high and that Vertigo thing is kicking in and my adrenaline is rushing and my heart is racing and my breath is out of control!  My legs are trembling, my hands are already cramping, and Im only a third of the way up the route! Active Labor has begun.

Vic my climbing doula is there again, “You are OK”  I can hear him repeating, “take it easy, stop working so hard, lean into the wall, rest there for a moment. Do that thing you know how to do to slow your breathing down. Try not to get ahead of yourself. There is only the move in front of you. One move at a time. You can do this! “

My mind is playing a flashing movie reel of all of the births I have attended and the thousands of times I have said these exact words to so many women in labor. Mother nature can be such a bitch. Im getting my big lesson right now from the universe. Yup, now its my turn to experience this deep sensation of being uncomfortable, terrified, physically and mentally challenged. Expanding the story of this rock so it is the size of half dome instead of a small wall in the Angeles Crest forest. And so I rest, regroup, and I start to rock on again. Now Im through the difficult part of the climb and in the flow. Im in that sweet spot of not thinking, just moving, and easily finding the next place to put my hands and feet, dancing up the wall , one with my breath and the cold wind. Im nearly at the top now. Don’t think, don’t look down, its too far.

Oh God, I just looked down.

Vertigo , damn it, has stepped into my brain to disorient me.

Now for those of you who have never experienced vertigo it is a bizarre sensation where the brain literally loses its ability to find orientation. Gravity ceases to exist. Up is now down, down is now up and one is left with the dizzy and terrifying sensation of not being able to move at all for fear of truly falling. My stomach is queasy. Again, my heart is pounding, breath erratic and a loud ringing in my ears is drowning out my ability to hear anything. I can faintly hear my climbing doula in the far off distance trying to calm me down, give me direction, but he is so far away I know that this is all up to me now. I am alone, like so many of the women that I see who are deep in their labor. All anyone can do is pray and hold space for me now. Transition has set in. Im totally confused and lost. And, I’m so close to finishing!

So, I do what I know how, hold on to what I can, close my eyes, and come back to my breath. Thats it, just breathe. Only this one breath. Inhale, exhale, that’s it. Just like that. My heart rate slows, my breathing returns to normal, the ringing in my ears stops, and I open my eyes. OK, Im back, here we go. Two more moves and I will be at the top. And just like that Im am there. Hugging the huge tree that has anchored our top rope, feeling joyful at my small but extraordinary accomplishment, everyone below cheering .

I belay down, give my climbing doula a giant hug , high five , and give a huge sigh of relief. There, I’ve done it. Now Im back and I know I can do it again. Its all about just getting out there and expanding my safe boundaries, trusting that my body will be OK and that my friends will always be there it help me ROCK ON.

I realize that I had become a little jaded and lost bit of my authentic compassion for the women that I attend in labor. After all, they are the ones experiencing the deep sensations of labor, not me. How did I become this way? When did things fall flat for me? I was ready for a reboot!

I feel thankful to the universe for bringing me to my knees, to a place of truly understanding again by pushing myself mentally and feeling it in my body. I am deeply thankful to the friends that showed up to cheer me on and to my climbing doula who was there with me every step of the way.

“Who’s up? “ I hear myself say.