January 2022 - Everyday Integrity

January 31, 2022February 8, 2022

News from Jules | 01.31.2022 | What Are the Odds

I was already fast asleep at 7:52 pm on Thursday night when the email arrived. Thirteen hours later, I was still lying in bed around 9 a.m. when I saw the email: “The climb is headed out tomorrow night. I have space, so let me know if you can make it.”

My excitement increased as the news sunk in: A team was climbing Mt. Hood tonight…and I could go.

I could go.

Six months since my last climb and months of waiting for the right conditions, the opportunity arises for two summits—in one week. What are the odds?

Way back in September while hiking up to Council Crest—one of the highest points in Portland overlooking all of the surrounding mountains—one of my climbing partners and I set our sights on climbing Mount St. Helens together. The winter route seemed like great training toward our ultimate goal: attempting Mt. Hood again after nearly summiting in June, 2021.

We set a couple of dates for early December, then trained and waited for snow. We were in peak training condition as our dates came and went. We kept waiting for snow. It started snowing, but it was the Holidays. And then Omicron surged. So, we hadn’t really trained in a month. I recovered from COVID the week before. And I had just started my monthly cycle.

While planning an elevation training hike for the weekend, we saw a tiny high-pressure weather window of clear skies and calm winds on the horizon mid-week.

Overall, we were healthy and we were ready.

Right now, it’s like this.

We weren’t in our peak condition, but the conditions combined beautifully to get us to the peak.

We saw a shooting star above the mountain right before a stunning sunrise revealed Mt. Hood gloriously floating above a sea of clouds. As the sun climbed across the clear blue sky, we paused to marvel at the breathtaking views with others we encountered on the way up, including a surprising fellow climber. An almost four-year-old walking alongside his parents, ice ax in hand—just like us. So that’s where the skittle came from that I’d seen in the snow.

By 10 a.m., we reached the summit.

Our little friend would get there too, just a couple of hours later.

Five hours up, four hours down. About 5,600 ft. over 11.5 miles round trip. We got back to the car by 2 p.m., leaving plenty of time for a celebratory coffee stop and to beat traffic on the way home. It went so smoothly that I wondered throughout the climb: was it still an adventure if there weren’t any challenges, any drama?

And I was still wondering this when I woke up on Friday morning and checked my email. Wait, this Mazamas team was climbing Mt. Hood tonight…and I could go?

Not just any adventure. My dream. Right there.

And my gear wasn’t even unpacked.

I quickly assessed the conditions. The weather forecast showed the same high winds and cold temps that we had hustled to avoid. My body was sore, but functional. My mind less so. I didn’t know the team, though most folks with the Mazamas Mountaineering Club are strong climbers. But, would I be an asset or a liability to the team?

“It’d be brutal but you could do it,” texted my climbing partner.

Hood or bust indeed.

It felt like I was pushing the odds, so I reluctantly emailed the climb leader to climb on without me.

One summit was plenty.

For now.

May the odds be in your favor this week.

Love,
Jules

I share a lesson learned about integrity every Monday. Sign up for delivery right to your inbox. Want more? There’s lots more lessons learned here on my blog, so have fun exploring and commenting about your own insights!

January 24, 2022February 8, 2022

News from Jules | 01.24.2022 | It’s Like This

It’s been a beautiful, strange two weeks: Hoping for a miracle, sitting with a reality, mourning a loss. I have been gratefully aware of life—and the distinct difference between being alive versus feeling alive. It’s not just wording. It is a different sensation.

Two weeks ago, I went back to my naturopath for another intrauterine insemination (IUI) attempt with donor sperm on a Monday. On that Wednesday, I woke up with cold symptoms that turned out to be COVID-19 positive. And then Sunday was the anniversary of the day we lost my Mom 19 years—nearly half my life—ago.

There was a sort of purity, simplicity and rawness in all of these elements of the circle of life converging at the very same time. Not fateful or correlated. Just beautiful and strange.

I sure wouldn’t have planned it this way, if I was in charge of planning.

But, like my new favorite Buddhist mantra says: Right now, it’s like this.

This is life.

Luckily, I only experienced mild COVID symptoms for a few days. After two years of fearing this virus, I was gratefully aware of being alive. Simple things: Sleeping, breathing, walking, pain, smelling, hunger, tasting. I didn’t feel awful. I didn’t feel good. But I felt.

And then, there was the first day I woke up gratefully aware of feeling alive. Simple things: alertness, clarity, strength, energy. I didn’t feel wonderful. But I glowed. I felt like myself again.

That day I stepped out of isolation to cautiously take a walk. Bundled up in my long puffy coat, I took deep breaths of the fresh, cold, winter air. I noticed flowers, trees, clouds like I’d never seen them before. And as I kept walking, I noticed how much I preferred this sensation: this feeling alive.

In fact, it was the only sensation that I considered worth living.

I had to sit on the curb and think about that for a good long minute, or twelve:

How was feeling alive different from being alive?
Why was vivacity better than existence?
Aren’t we all just lucky to be alive?

We are, we are.

It is such a miracle to create life. It is so hard to stay present to ever-changing reality. It is even harder to accept constant loss.

While there is a distinct difference, a different sensation, between being alive and feeling alive, there is no hierarchy. One is not better than the other.

Even if it feels like it is.

The only “better” is aligning to what is.

Right now, it’s like this.

May you be and feel alive this week.

Love,
Jules

January 17, 2022February 8, 2022

News from Jules | 01.17.2022 | What Feels Right and True

There were so many things I expected to come to fruition last year besides the dream of summiting Mt. Hood. Seeds that I thought I planted last March, nurtured through the summer, and anticipated harvesting in the fall. Just as I’d planned. So it came as a humble reminder to enter winter, the last season in our current growth cycle, and keep trying.

Trying to start a family. Trying to find true love. Trying to make a living. Trying to write a book.

Persistent dreams I committed to pursuing wholeheartedly last year.

During my annual exam last January, 2021, I excitedly told my OBGYN that after years of deliberation I was ready to have a baby on my own. And, I also kept my heart open as I met a few potential soulmates during outdoor adventures throughout the year. I accepted getting laid off in July—at the same time as finally being debt-free—as an opportunity to reassess my callings. I set up a dedicated writing desk and dusted off my box of notecards, source texts, sparkly inspirational doodads.

This was all happening throughout last year, subtly veiled beneath the catchy phrases and metaphors in my blog; the word choices and photos on Instagram. Known to those in my day-to-day, but not to all of you.

Even when I wasn’t writing, I constantly debated with myself about what to share and the relevance to your lives: What is necessary and useful? What is inspiring? What is personal? What is private?

And, how would it all turn out? Would I jinx myself or close doors by sharing half-baked truths?

But, can the Universe really provide if I keep withholding my truth?

Who knows?

These questions are beyond me. I can’t know what is going on in your life—just like you don’t know mine unless I tell you. You may not even know what is necessary, useful or inspiring for your journey, until you read it. What is too personal to know, until you feel it.

And then you’ll decide to simply follow the pull of curiosity. Or not and stop reading.

The question I can answer: What feels right and true and whole to me?

My own words reminding me:

The world cannot be whole without all of you.

I held these questions as fall became a season of healing after so much trying. A time to stop trying. To harvest health and balance. To nourish every part of my being with long hikes, strong workouts, good food, and honest storytelling. To study the natural rhythm.

“Tying my family’s nutritional fortunes to the seasons…did acquaint us in new ways with what seasons mean, and how they matter,” wrote Barbara Kingsolver in Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. “Especially, I’m coming to understand [my elder] culture’s special regard for winter. It’s the season to come through.”

And so, I entered the winter solstice a month ago lighter and ready to let go of what isn’t serving me: control, planning, permanence, opacity.

Instead, I am transparently surrendering to this Season of life, and inviting you along.

I am sharing more of the actual everyday journey toward integrity. Not waiting for how “it all turns out” and what it meant based on “what I know now.” I am still trying for the right mix of personal but not private, relatable yet specific. Necessary, useful, inspiring for you—and for me as I make sense of it as I go.

Here we are.

This quiet time to come through, together.

May you come through this week.

Love,
Jules

January 10, 2022February 8, 2022

News from Jules | 01.10.2022 | Don’t Quit Your Daydream

It’s good to take a break from our dreams for a bit. To see where we stand. Are they exactly where we left them? Have they morphed into a different version? Have they disappeared altogether—no longer relevant as we’ve evolved in the meantime?

If the dream persists once we come back, we know we’ve got unfinished business.

It’s been six months since I attempted to summit Mt. Hood. Since the snow melted and the mountain became unattemptable, at least for a rookie climber like me. It was a surprisingly ideal end to my first season of learning how to climb through the Mazama’s Basic Climbing Education Program (BCEP). If you’re curious, an abridged account is published in the latest issue of the Mazama’s Bulletin, January/February 2022 on pages 23-26. Plus, the whole #hoodorbust journey to date is on my blog.

I learned so much. Mostly about myself.

As it turns out, I didn’t complete a dream. I discovered one. I tapped into my higher potential. What I might be capable of, if I dared to try. After I got past my personal motivations and goals, I was ready to simply follow the pull of curiosity.

The pull to try. Because why not?

Last week, I felt the same thrill when I attempted a tricky, 5.9 indoor rock climbing route for the umpteenth time. At first, I thought it was too hard for a beginner like me and avoided it. But, as I watched other people race up the route, I got the itch to give it a try. I could barely make it a few feet off the ground at first, but my curiosity was hooked: Could I do it?

I tried several times…at each climbing session…every week in a row. Making a little progress upward and getting stuck each week. Feeling a bit defeated in the fourth week, I took a break and tried some even harder 5.10 routes that my climbing partners did. Why not fail harder? But, making solid, unexpected progress encouraged me to keep trying.

I went by myself on the last day of my month-long trial membership with this tricky 5.9 route in mind. It was now or never.

First I did a Yoga for Climbers class and a few easy bouldering routes to warm up. Then, I went for it. As I reached the top of the elusive route, I was half-surprised, half-assured: Hot damn, I just did it!

It was a feeling just for me. There was nothing to prove, just potential to unlock.

When I went snowshoeing on Mt. Hood yesterday it was my first time this year actually seeing the south side crater blanketed with silky white snow. It was breathtaking. My dream was exactly where I left it.

And my motivation has morphed.

It’s good to take a break from our dreams for a bit.

And it’s good to keep trying.

May you know where you stand this week.

Love,
Jules

January 3, 2022February 8, 2022

News from Jules | 01.03.22 | What’s Essential

What a blessing to enter the new year with such a fresh start! Bare white walls, seasoned hardwood floors, empty closet, big windows facing North and East. Just a twin bed, a side table and a dresser. Exactly the kind of easeful living I’ve been craving since the pandemic started.

Since I wrapped up my full-time job in mid-July, I have been nomadically following the seasons. Seizing the summer days with adventures throughout the Pacific Northwest and visits to friends in Alaska, Arizona, California. Reaping the fall harvest while housesitting for a friend and helping at another friend’s letterpress shop. And now, settling into the winter stillness by housesitting for other friends’ and beginning to write again.

Last weekend I only had the energy to set up what I immediately needed. With 90% of my stuff in a storage unit, it would seem that everything here is essential. And yet, it felt done and livable while several boxes remained unpacked. Could I let it be?

“This is a hard lifelong task, for the nature of becoming is a constant filming over of where we begin, while the nature of being is a constant erosion of what is not essential,” wrote Mark Nepo in The Book of Awakening (bold added for emphasis).

This is the hard lifelong task.

Staying true to our “birthright integrity.”* Only reaching for what we truly need, instead of anguishing about what to do with everything. Letting go of what is not essential.

This is my pandemic epiphany: I thrive in simplicity.

My own words reminding me:

Cut out the busy, complicated, crazy. Make room for rich, easy, integrated. When one thing flows to another. When choices are obvious. When needs are met for all. And then some. When time is irrelevant and the only place to be is here.

The everyday journey toward integrity continues.

I will keep practicing.

And I’ll keep writing.

Sending weekly updates as I process life and share what I’m discovering. Because I missed being connected to each of you. Whenever the subject line draws you in and wherever the words find you—sharing wisdom as you navigate your own journey. And knowing that you’re cheering me on in my journey. We are finding our way.

May you gravitate toward what is essential for you.

Love,
Jules

*Eloquently described by Parker Palmer in “A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward an Undivided Life.”