 My Mt. Everest is a metaphor for including in your life fun, recreational activities that challenge your fear and strengthen your courage. It's a sure way to develop your "courage muscle." First, Your Mt. Everest. Then, the world.
Newsletters: 2009 2008 2007 September 2006 December
Corra Harris That is a lesson I
learned from my husband very early on in our
marriage, though I thought he was wrong at the
time.
Dear
MyMtEveresters, Be careful who your friends
are. For sure, don't hang out with 'MyMtEverest'ers
if you don't plan to get stuck climbing a mountain
or two. I hooked my husband Nathan into testing his
limits - quite unintentionally. This is what happened. You
see I have a pet (favorite, not animal) community
project called YCC (Yucca Corridor Coalition)
Gateway to Hollywood. It's an oversized traffic
triangle with a beautiful jacaranda tree in the
center - that had previously been surrounded by
so-so grass and plenty of space for transient
inhabitants. This became my focus of a
beautification plan that now has bunches and
bunches of day lilies, spots of little fescues,
those wonderful white rose bushes, and a profusion
of purple lantana. And to counterpoint the tree, we
have erected a 30-foot-high sign that vertically
reads "Hollywood." All's that's left to be done is
to electrify and light the sign. Blue Star Memorial
Site This little, but important,
triangular patch of concrete and nature was chosen
as the display place for the National Garden Clubs'
Blue Star Memorial Plaque in honor of all our
fallen heroes in wars. Only one such star can be in
a city. It is quite an honor for our
Gateway. The dedication was to be
held on the real Memorial Day on Wednesday, May 30.
Everything was fine until a driver speeding south
on Cahuenga plowed into the triangle, cutting a
clear dirt swath where once were planted fescues
and day lilies, shearing off the sprinkler meter
and it's heavy, sturdy "protection" cage at the
ground level pipe. The
Problems 1. With no functioning
sprinkler system, the garden needed to be watered
by a sprinkler truck. Problem One solution:
Hollywood Beautification Team was authorized by
Council District 4 to water the plants. 2. The plants needed to be
replaced. (The ceremonial unveiling of the Blue
Star Memorial was the following day.) Problem Two solution was a
bit trickier. With Memorial Day Weekend and
last-minute plant ordering., HBT didn't have a
truck available to pick up the replacement plants
and delivery couldn't be made that quickly. If we
could get the plants, HBT would plant them
all. How to Solve the
Problem Although, I am usually very
circumspect before I open my mouth. It isn't always
the case. This day, I just blurted out that I would
pick up the plants. I was informed that my handy
dandy Mazda Tribute SUV wouldn't quite measure up
to size. For me, no problem; I'll rent a truck. I
had this vision of me driving the truck full of
plants back to the triangle. And thus, an adventure was
gestating (not quite born, yet). Later that day I
was telling my husband about it, and it came to me.
"Why don't you come with me, Nate?" I have a husband that
rarely misses an opportunity to spend time with me
(yes, indeed, I am lucky - and appreciative), so he
was hooked. Then actually, I was thinking, maybe he
would just make the trip without me so I could do
other stuff. (What other stuff? Any other stuff.)
Nay, that didn't work this time. Nathan hooked me.
Really, a trip to the valley could be
fun. Now, the picture in my head
had changed. I had involved Nate. That meant that
he would have to drive. It's the man's job. Never
mind that it's just a social convention that
doesn't have to be that way. Social convention most
often means behavior by autopilot/default. I
actually would have liked to drive, but the
prospect of company on an adventure was more
compelling. So where to rent a truck,
and how big a truck should we rent? Nobody seemed
to be able to tell us what size. We guessed, we
'over bought'. It was a big, wide flat bed with
wooden side rails. I left my cell phone and
directions to the nursery in our car, which we had
parked. Nathan waited for the truck as they washed
it. I went back to the car; Nathan would pick me up
there. The
Proclamation I watched him drive down
the street and waited by the side of the road as he
stopped beside me. I pulled myself up with the
energy that it takes to mount a horse, seated
myself and closed the door. Before I even had time
to buckle my seat belt, Nathan blurted out that
this was the last time that he would ever rent and
drive a truck. He doesn't have to do that anymore.
"Enough is enough" he said - spoken with clear
emotion and shaking hands on the steering wheel.
Well, this was going to be an adventure all right;
I was no longer so sure about the fun
part. I offered to drive. I love
driving - horses, speed boats, whatever. Definitely
not Nathan's inclination. Yes, it would be scary,
but I've driven trucks before. So has Nathan (more
than me). Don't be misguided, Nathan is an ex-BMW
motorcycle world traveler. That's how we courted.
It was definitely a case of "love me, love my
bike," and if we get that far then it was "love me;
love my kids." But that's another story. I offered to drive, but of
course he demurred. It's part of his man's role to
say 'No'. Men seem to operate on stricter social
confines when it comes to Macho situations. It has
its advantages and disadvantages. Well, in this
case, Lucky Nate; it gave him the opportunity to
conquer the situational fear, which is always good
for one's ego. I'm not sure I'll ever get a "thank
you" from my hubby, however. By the time we were on our
way back, Nathan was driving like a pro and
breathing evenly with ease and confidence. He met
the challenge; I knew he would. I'm glad he
exceeded his comfort zone. It is my observation
that as people age, they seem to think that they
have earned the right to relax and be comfortable.
For me, it not about rights; it's about life. Life
is inherently uncomfortable; death is the ultimate
comfort. Be a bit uncomfortable,
climb a mountain, endure those knots in your
stomach, stretch your courage muscle. It is my
secret to long life (or at least high-quality
life.) I have to respect his
request; I will never put him in that position
again. I won't volunteer him for truck driving.
Yet, I couldn't help but think about how just being
around someone dedicated to "climbing her own Mt
Everests" puts you in midst of challenges by
association. Merle About Merle M. Singer: |