I’ve developed an interesting (and practical) habit of being in one place but posting blog entries about another. When my paintings shipped to Florence at the end of October, in preparation for the December Florence Biennale, I shipped myself to Africa (Tanzania).
It was a long-time special dream to be able to climb Kilimanjaro, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I, or the the mountain, would have to realize it. What perfect timing to get out of the mind and into the body! After 10 months of uninterrupted painting and related duties, I was ready for a different type of physical challenge—something I didn’t know would test my mental and emotional strength too.
If you look back to my blog entries for the end of October, 07, you’ll notice the one from the 24th is entitled Endurance, and the one from the 28th is entitled Stamina. Ironic! On reflection, I’m clear that my best training for climbing Kilimanjaro might have been painting for the Florence Biennale! Please check out my Candid Artist Ramblings list, posted on my birthday/rebirth (October 19), the day I set out for Africa. My sudden and acute awareness of transferable skills and attitudes has been eye-opening and educational since.
I wasn’t the fittest person in the group, I also hadn’t done enough (almost any) training. So, how did I make it to the top (be in the 50% who do, and the only woman among peers)? I think three factors helped:
1. I had the proper clothing (and wore it)—really took time to organize packing and followed all formal instructions from guidebooks and informal instructions from travellers who’d succeeded previously.
2. I didn’t try to be clever or take chances in any way—used poles, ate and hydrated well, listened to the guides in going "pole, pole" (slowly, slowly), and took the necessary meds. Thank you Diamox (altitude sickness inhibitor)! Even though this drug made my hands and feet tingle relentlessly, it was a very good friend and support.
3. I didn’t go on the climb with the idea that I had to make it all the way. I was aware that I might not have the capacity to do so, and could forgive myself weaknesses. Competition was not what this journey was about for me. It was more of a spiritual quest about being there and experiencing whatever was meant to be—and accepting it, while still fit and young enough to get myself over there.
The lead-up days to the final ascent were a honeymoon of sorts. The final ascent was a whole different story—nothing similar—the most challenging physical endeavor I have ever faced (and no one had informed me about properly). What kept me going on the final ascent? Three gifts:
1. The camaraderie of those with whom I was climbing and our attentive guides.
2. The not knowing what was coming next and not having been prepared for the worst—being in a situation I could do nothing about and just getting on with it.
3. The not-giving up factor, once I was so close, and because there was no real reason to. How could I go down (in still bad weather conditions) if I hadn’t made it up? We’d been climbing for six days and, at the 11th hour, I couldn’t justify turning back. It was the same way down if you made it up or not, and I couldn’t find a good enough reason to turn around. Not thinking about what I was actually doing or the discomfort of continuing also helped. Automatic movements and focusing on other thoughts—and struggles—became a lot more meaningful and empowering. I acknowledged that I never really give up, no matter how awful the task is, making the climb a metaphor for so much more.
For the last hour I wept my way up, partly out of pain, partly out of emotion—maybe more out of emotion. I couldn’t turn off my tears or howls. The tears froze and the howls got absorbed by the wind. The feelings were intensely private. But, as discussed later with climbing peers, appropriately universal. These guys had had their own emotional releases too! Reaching the top, we all embraced. It was a magical moment in a glacial wonderland where we were too cold and tired to take photos or stick around.
On October 29, 07, back in Moshi, I was able to check e-mail, and saw that a friend had forwarded a New York Times Sunday Magazine feature article by Tom Bissell about his own Kilimanjaro climb, "Up the Mountain Slowly, Very Slowly." It had been published the day before, on October 28, 07. What a coincidence! And, even more interesting, Bissell had been based in Rome, pre-trip—unable to fully-prepare himself, either…
