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Why are you crying?' 'How can I possibly look good to you? I'm pregnant! I'm really, really pregnant!' 'Of course you are. Why are you crying?' 'Because I'm going to Hawai'i!' 'Yes, you're going to Hawai'i. Come on now, pull yourself together.' I kept crying. Darren looked frantic. He stepped back and fumbled for his roguish smirk. 'So, is this a hormone thing?' 'No, it's not a hormone thing! I'm old, Darren! I'm old and pregnant, and I'm going to Hawai'i. Can you understand how that makes me feel?' He could not. How could I possibly expect my husband to understand all the bizarre things that happen to a woman in spirit and flesh when a friendly alien takes over her body? He still couldn't figure out why Laurie and I wanted to fly all the way to Hawai'i just to spend a week lounging around the pool, comparing underarm flab, when we could stay home and have the same conversation over the phone for a lot less money. ↗
This obsession is a curious thing. Sometimes wonder about the merits of devoting so much of myself to a singular climbing objective. Much of the time it beats me down, leaves me hanging my head in despair. But then there are the moments that bring me to life. When excitement wells up inside my chest in a way that doesn’t happen in every day life. Today my fingertips were cracked and bleeding. I made no progress despite great conditions. Now I am on the ground and can hardly contain my excitement to get back on the wall. It’s a crazy rollercoaster and I owe my family and partners a great deal for encouraging me through it all. ↗
#encouragement #obsession #perseverance #rock-climbing #family
Ariel looked at her then, instead of the sky, instead of the horizon that surely beckoned to him. “Out of a thousand different winds, I think I can resist nine hundred and ninety-nine of them. Now she was the one unable to swallow. “And the last one?” "That one wrenches the beating heart from my chest, the blood from my veins, the marrow from my bones.” Grasping her hand, he brought it up to his face and rubbed it against his cheek. Pain radiated from his pale skin, from his eyes, from his lips when they grazed her knuckles. “You’ve two birds to do your bidding, my fair huntress, but I want you to choose me, to love me above all others, to make the pain in my soul worthwhile… or I would be free of you. ↗
Sure. What's the worst that could happen." Twenty minutes later, we had our answer. "I can't frecking believe this." I cringed. "I'm so sorry." "I'm bald!" Giguhl continued. "I look like a freak." "It's not that bad," I said. But it was. Oh, my lord was it bad. I'd never seen an uglier cat in my entire life. ↗
I didn't say what kind of book. You have a foul mind Bingley." "Don't mock me on my sister's wedding day!" "I mocked you on yours; I hardly see how this is as bad," was Darcy's reply. ↗
I didn't understand how. But the toilets had responded to me. I had become one with the plumbing... ↗
Mountains seem to answer an increasing imaginative need in the West. More and more people are discovering a desire for them, and a powerful solace in them. At bottom, mountains, like all wildernesses, challenge our complacent conviction - so easy to lapse into - that the world has been made for humans by humans. Most of us exist for most of the time in worlds which are humanly arranged, themed and controlled. One forgets that there are environments which do not respond to the flick of a switch or the twist of a dial, and which have their own rhythms and orders of existence. Mountains correct this amnesia. By speaking of greater forces than we can possibly invoke, and by confronting us with greater spans of time than we can possibly envisage, mountains refute our excessive trust in the man-made. They pose profound questions about our durability and the importance of our schemes. They induce, I suppose, a modesty in us. ↗
