When I was little I was fearless.
Now I know my fears.
They are smart, sensible fears that are surely only looking out for me.
But I often want to treat them like an unfortunate acquaintance.
I want to turn my back and pretend we've never met.
I don't know if I was always afraid of heights or if fear of heights just snuck up on me one day in the process of getting older. I'm not even sure what fuels it precisely. Maybe an acute realization that if I were to fall at such a height I would surely die. Maybe a lack of trust in my own capacity not to fall.
Today I hiked up a steep mountain. The view was so expansive it made my knees weak. I do not mean this figuratively. I mean that having the sight of cascading mountains and tiny trees blending into endless forest at my back made my legs feel like they might give out. I was not sure I wouldn't fall. The way grew steeper as I neared the top. There was a part of it that was bare of rocks and plants, mostly dirt with a few trees. It was maybe a 40 degree incline. Maybe more, I have no sense for inclines.
I became nervous that I might be not able to continue.
I thought maybe I could.
I knew that once I reached the top, there would be a gentler trail to lead me back down. As scared as I felt to keep climbing, I felt scarder of the hike back down this way, with the Cascades at my front and my feet speeding up. There was nothing for it but to keep hiking.
I'm not certain I'd ever before had the experience of doing something and thinking, don't look down, just don't look down. I tried not to look back at the progress I was making.
As the trees thinned out, the path became entirely rocky and I climbed up. The butte is at an elevation of 2,065'. Now all of that was all around me. I turned my eyes to my footing and where I was putting my hands. I felt like a bunny rabbit but I tried to think of mountain goats.
I came to the top. A few other people were there, standing sturdily at the very edge, flying kites. The sky was a strong, sure blue and all around me rested Oregon.
I tried to free my heart from my throat and let it be opened by everything I was seeing. My fear of heights does not diminish my appreciation of the beauty they possess. If anything that feeling of being close upon the precipice and the wide open everything makes me feel full and free. If only I am calm enough to notice those other feelings.
As though a gift, a friendly stranger struck up a conversation with me and we began a loose and comfortable conversation that chased away my anxiousness. We talked until the sun began to feel hotter and then hiked down the mountain together, taking the easier path, sharing stories.
