e is away....: Enduring The Beams of Love

The following day when the beams had gone again. Oh lech...

..Look on the rising sun: there God does live

And gives his light, and gives his heat away.

And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive

Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.

And we are put on earth a little space,

That we may learn to bear the beams of love,
William Blake

Ok maybe I am a overly sentimental about the sun coming out. But it was like a drug. Thomas, who did not join me due to the guest situation, said I went 'berserk'- all day, enduring the beams of sun. According to Blake- being in sun beams is practice for receiving the beams of God's love; which I find a lovely little multi tasking.

When I finally reached the top of the second walk, I realized I was really tired and the clouds were coming in (see photos below) and love and beams aside, I really wanted water and my bed. Such a problem with hiking-you can't get in your car. So I was at the top turning to go down when I saw a lone figure in black leather-a motorcyclist who had ridden the road to the top of the Kriegerhorn. And here is the funny part- I actually thought, oh crap this guy is going to kill me and put me in that huge backpack. At 7 thousand feet, in a town where one does not lock one's doors; I happened to find the killer. Perhaps I was dehydrated, but that is a new level of paranoia.

He was taking pictures. But I was sure this was an obvious, laughable ruse and-decided to go down the other side of the mountain towards a cliffy area to prepare myself to run (fling?) down. A last desperate attempt at life.

People, people...you cannot imagine how absurd this is! How little progress this shows in my mental state. How I am more scarred by the behavior of my fellow man than I knew! No one is trying to kill me on the Kriegerhorn. After a little spell of this walking, it occurred to me that I would rather be killed and dismembered than have to walk back up any more than I already had. If he killed me, at least I would get a ride down on that motorcycle.

So I walked back up to the top, so I could get down.

I do so worry about my progress. I have taken three weeks of daily meditation: breathing about gratitude (I am grateful!) and how I need to "allow love to come to my aid.." (What the hell does that mean?)

All I know is when one is feeling the impending doom of boarding school or or very, very bad guests -can't write about that even with the password-or Donald Trump actually running for president, or the tiring, demoralizing persistence of cruelty, or most of all -my long list of Ellie's Self Improvement ideas that I never seem to get to: the only thing for sure that helps is a very long walk. With a dash of adrenaline from the thought of me karate chopping a man in black leather on the back side of the Kriegerhorn. (!! using the avalanche barriers as hurdles!!)

Enough about me-we do not talk about Reinhold Messner enough. Little known EBW fact-I read a lot of mountain climbing accounts. I have read books on the first ascent on Everest by the English, about Messner's solo attempt, ones about people cutting their partners off the rope so they could live, ones in South America, the Seven Summit tales about rich yahoos trying to pay their way up. I love a good book about a place I will never go. My wonderful friend David Keaton, who has climbed Everest, laughs at how I drone on about the Khumbu Icefall. Fun fact: David almost drowned there. The weather was really hot that year and he fell into a huge ice puddle (my word not his) with his heavy back pack; they almost couldn't get him out.

Messner was raised by a wonderful mother and a cruel man; but from that man he learned to climb mountains. Thomas told me that he is the lone surviving member of his original Mountain Guide Class; he lost his brother on Nanga Parbat amid accusations that to achieve an ambitious goal of traversing a highly dangerous face, he essentially left his brother to die; he has lost most of his toes, been divorced and thinks he has seen the Yeti.

"To non-climbers it may be difﬁcult to convey the extent and grandeur of Reinhold Messner's accomplishments. Here's a start: His ascent, with longtime partner Peter Habeler, of Hidden Peak, the 26,470-foot (8,068-meter) summit of Gasherbrum I, one of the giants of the Himalaya, without any of the paraphernalia of traditional high-altitude climbing—porters, camps, ﬁxed ropes, and oxygen—was hailed as forging a whole new standard of mountaineering. But that was back in 1975, before Messner and Habeler went on to climb Mount Everest without oxygen, a feat that took climbing to the absolute limit. That, in turn, was in May of 1978—three months before Messner climbed Nanga Parbat, the ninth highest mountain on Earth, solo—a feat heralded as one of the most daring in mountaineering. That, however, was two years before he climbed Mount Everest without oxygen, equipped with a single small rucksack—and alone."

His solo Everest trip, in case you are not up to speed, was just astounding. He basically packed a ruck sack with some dried fruit and climbed up and down by himself in four days. The only back-up he had was his girlfriend at base camp. I am not sure I would have dated this guy. Actually who knows. I do love the tortured ones. Here is an excerpt from one of his books on what it was like:

When I rest I feel utterly lifeless except that my throat burns when I draw breath... I can scarcely go on. No despair, no happiness, no anxiety. I have not lost the mastery of my feelings, there are actually no more feelings. I consist only of will. After each few metres this too fizzles out in unending tiredness. Then I think nothing. I let myself fall, just lie there. For an indefinite time I remain completely irresolute. Then I make a few steps again.”

Reinhold Messner; The Crystal Horizon

That is of course the interesting part to me-the no feelings. You give up happiness, but you also give up despair and anxiety. (Not a bad trade in my book). Messner said in an interview that he does not climb to see the wildflowers or the mountain views. He claims he is no naturalist.
The mountains simply bring him closer to the mystery that is man-allowing him to explore our darkness and our light. And hell if that isn't the bravest thing a person can do.

On the agenda for today (alas another rainy one..but there is hope for tomorrow); forced rain death march to lunch, then having friends over for my famous pesto by the fire. F is going to whip up Katia's coffee dessert.

In a very short time we will be going to Turkey for a little sail. In truth I am a worried about ten days of nothing but sun and lounging. A vacation with no broiling tennis courts, no icy waters, no jogs in the heat, no long hikes in the rain? A holiday with no pain?
How does that work, exactly?

Someone asked about the boat-it's called the Vaimiti. I am sure you can see pictures of it on the web somewhere. One earring-ed and tattooed French captain with a taste for speed-not shown....

HAPPY FRIENDSHIP DAY! love you guys...xx