Summer Vacation: Lesson 2—Climbing Mountains

  So, lesson two from my summer vacation puts me on the north side of Kauai at the end of the road. Really, the road on the north side going west ends at Ke’e Beach. Ke’e is my favorite beach on the island.  It has lots of sand and shade, you can walk a long distance, chickens roam the sand, you can see turtles and monk seals, or just sit in the calm waters.  There are even facilities and a lifeguard and sometimes a guy selling ice-cold coconuts in the parking lot.

What is also at Ke’e, is the trailhead of the Kalalau Trail, or the Na Pali coast hike. If you have seen Jurassic Park, South Pacific, Six Days/Seven Nights, King Kong with Jessica Lange, Pirates of the Caribbean—you have seen the Na Pali coast.  It is only accessible by water, helicopter or hiking.

I have visited Kauai six times, and every time I say that I will hike part of the Na Pali coast. Never have. Why? Lazy, yes--but that’s too simplistic. My lazy is deeply rooted in a lifetime of viewing myself as the overweight kid who was last in any laps running during PE or countless team practices.  I was embarrassed by my body—the suit of armor I carried to protect myself from dealing with my emotions or my sexuality. My lazy was intertwined with my not wanting to fail, look bad, be made fun of, or be fully seen. My form of lazy led me to gain weight in the run-up to my wedding—to really make sure I would still be wanted or loved—more armor, more padding so I wouldn’t get hurt so much by the rejection. If I don’t try—no glory, no reward, but I also get to stay safe. Existing, not thriving.

So, about this hike.  This year was the year to try. So, bolstered by my traveling companions and the promise of amazing views—up we start. We know that at ¼ mile is the first lookout and at ½ mile is the view of the entire coastline.  Easy, right? Ten minute walk on the streets of NYC.  We are not in NYC! This trail is straight up the side of a mountain—loose rock, big fall away, waterfalls create slippery/slimy little hazards to maneuver. Big fun!! We are passed by younger hikers—and trail runners--but on we push. 

We made the first ¼ mile in about 20 minutes. Panting, happy to stop for photo ops, not dead yet and not embarrassed yet. Hopeful even.  At this point, two of our party who had chosen flip-flops as hiking gear decide to return down the mountain.  I had an out.  I didn’t have to go on.  What to do?

Apparently, I have a moment with God. A voice in my head said loud and clear: “You are the youngest one in this group. Why do you keep treating yourself less than? You can do this. You are stronger and more agile than you know. Move up the mountain.” So I did. I maneuvered boulders, on-coming tourists and 20-mile per hour wind gusts to stand at the ½ mile marker and see the Na Pali coast and the Northern coastline from way up on a cliff. My legs were tired, but I did it. No confetti or parades—but I did my own little internal happy dance.

We weren’t done yet. After 45 minutes up, it was back down the trail.  And for me, down was a lot easier. I work better with gravity than against it. I actually bounded down the mountain—faster was working for me. Yes, my legs were sore the next day, but I not only survived, I got the photos to prove it.

My lessons—let go of old stories that are not supporting my thriving.  No risk means no reward.  I now want to get out of my comfort zone more—see what else I can do or become.  I want to start pushing my physical limits as much as my career, intellectual and creative edges.  What can I do if I weren’t concerned about how others might see me, what they might think?

How cool would that be?  I’ll let you know.

What I learned on my Summer Vacation. Lesson One—Catching Waves

It is “back to school” time and that gets me thinking of years writing essays and taking stock of the waning days of summer.  And this summer, I actually had a few pretty cool Aha- moments I’d like to share.

The first lesson came while I was sitting on my lanai in Kauai—over-looking the cove in front of the Beach House restaurant.  Every morning, and truly all day long, surfers come here to take advantage of the break and easy water access.

This one morning I watched a surfer in his mid-forties take his board and walk to the point. He stood and watched the waves for a good 15-20 minutes—just staring out into the ocean as far as I could tell. There were already many surfers on the water right behind the restaurant, but instead of paddling in to join them, he watched. Then he did something different. He picked up his board and walked down the beach another 20-30 yards and paddled out to a different break where no one else was surfing.  I watched him sit on his board and watch the ocean. Then at the right moment, he turned toward shore and began paddling. I saw nothing coming up behind him, but again and again he kept catching waves—riding them in and paddling back out.

What I loved is that he followed his own instincts and trusted his experience enough not to follow the crowd.  He didn’t just jump in with the rest of the pack and fight for a little piece of a wave.  He made his own path and owned a whole part of the ocean. 

How many times do I doubt my ideas or dreams because they are different—on the road less traveled?  I know that I have let many a comment, solution or suggestion just die unspoken or not-acted upon because the rest of the crowd or company or “they” were going in a different direction and THEY must be right, right?  They all seem to know better—who am I?

Well, I am ready to make me my own leader rather than following the crowd. I am ready to claim my voice and urges as valuable and innovative and worthwhile. I want my own piece of the ocean. 

So this is what I’m taking away from the surfer:

Take time to really assess the situation before taking action.  Trust my instincts and experience when I do take action. But also, take action—he didn’t just watch the water; he made the effort to catch the waves that came his way. I want to take advantage of the opportunities that no one else may be seeing—to carve my path, share my strengths, speak my truth and shine my light.  I may be alone for a while, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.  I know my rewards will roll in as well.

Are you willing to catch your own wave and claim your piece of the ocean?  Hang loose, more lessons from summer vacation coming very soon.