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No Promises.

“We cannot build the future by avenging the past.”
― T.H. White, The Once and Future King

Posts tagged honesty:

Tomorrow after work I leave to go home, and early Tuesday morning we fly out to Las Vegas, to drive to Arizona for a week of hiking and backpacking in Zion and the Grand Canyon. Last night Jared came over and brought 5 bottles of wine. After we had taken care of a few of those, during a talk with Mike I finally admitted how afraid I am. Terrified, really. 
I’m generally a very capable person. I can handle a lot, I’m strong, and I have faith in myself and my abilities. I’m also the first person to be honest about my limitations, and guys, I do NOT handle heat well. My pitiful ginger body has a difficult time regulating temperature. Sometimes if I get too much sun at the beach, I’ll vomit and have sun-sickness for a couple days. And that’s just the beach. Things that I would normally be fine at become impossible in 90 degree weather, let alone 120 degree. 
I’m scared. I’ve trained, but I’m scared that it’s not enough and that I won’t be able to do it. There is no easy way out. If I get 5 miles down or 5 miles up and realize I can’t do it, I can’t just call an Uber to come get me. There’s no quit button. Everything at the Phantom Ranch has to be carried down by mules. The NPS, on average, has to rescue someone every day, hundreds of people a year. In 2004, a 24 year old woman who had just finished 31st in the Boston Marathon weeks earlier, died of heat exhaustion on the trails. I can’t even run a marathon. If I had to be rescued by a mule or a helicopter, my dad would probably never speak to me again. 
I realize that people a lot older than me and a lot younger than me make the trip every year. It’s difficult, but the majority of them are fine. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I’m grateful. I’m not sure if being weak makes me scared, or being scared makes me weak. 

Tomorrow after work I leave to go home, and early Tuesday morning we fly out to Las Vegas, to drive to Arizona for a week of hiking and backpacking in Zion and the Grand Canyon. Last night Jared came over and brought 5 bottles of wine. After we had taken care of a few of those, during a talk with Mike I finally admitted how afraid I am. Terrified, really. 

I’m generally a very capable person. I can handle a lot, I’m strong, and I have faith in myself and my abilities. I’m also the first person to be honest about my limitations, and guys, I do NOT handle heat well. My pitiful ginger body has a difficult time regulating temperature. Sometimes if I get too much sun at the beach, I’ll vomit and have sun-sickness for a couple days. And that’s just the beach. Things that I would normally be fine at become impossible in 90 degree weather, let alone 120 degree. 

I’m scared. I’ve trained, but I’m scared that it’s not enough and that I won’t be able to do it. There is no easy way out. If I get 5 miles down or 5 miles up and realize I can’t do it, I can’t just call an Uber to come get me. There’s no quit button. Everything at the Phantom Ranch has to be carried down by mules. The NPS, on average, has to rescue someone every day, hundreds of people a year. In 2004, a 24 year old woman who had just finished 31st in the Boston Marathon weeks earlier, died of heat exhaustion on the trails. I can’t even run a marathon. If I had to be rescued by a mule or a helicopter, my dad would probably never speak to me again. 

I realize that people a lot older than me and a lot younger than me make the trip every year. It’s difficult, but the majority of them are fine. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I’m grateful. I’m not sure if being weak makes me scared, or being scared makes me weak. 

lofosho:

I’ve said it before, but it appears it bears repeating. Honesty is more important to me than nearly anything else. No matter if you’re afraid of what I’ll think, or you’re trying to protect me.

Lie to me once, and lose me forever.

Reblogging this, as time has shown it still bears repeating. I am learning that the simplest desires can be the hardest to secure.

Sometimes love means giving a piece of yourself to a person, and sometimes you don’t ever get it back. I suppose the best we can do is trust where we can and take risks and hope that the good people do to us outweighs the bad. That what is left of ourselves at the end of the day is enough of a real person. Damaged, but enough.

The praxis, however, is a little more cruel. Each time that this profound trust is forfeit, I lose some of my capacity to trust again. To feel again. It is not frequent, but it is devastating.

I grow colder, and harder, and meaner. My doubt fuels my cynicism, the vice I have fought and learned to keep at bay. I retreat into myself, a little more a stranger and a little less whole. I drift. I wait. I hurt others before they have the chance to hurt me. I look in the mirror without enough recognition for evaluation. I become a better enemy.

You will also look more like a stranger to me, my friend. I am changed. I will pause and search for a flicker of deceit behind your eyes, a flash of pretense in your tone. When you tell me that you love me, I will swallow the words as they hang in the air. I will shield myself and become what I hate, my own truth and feelings will be safeguarded by lies.

I will walk past doors I would have opened. My smiles will be emptier. My drinks will be doubles. I will do the wrong things, for the wrong reasons.

I will take a new gamble, this time, and hope that it is not myself I lose forever.

I will never feel safe.

I’ve said it before, but it appears it bears repeating. Honesty is more important to me than nearly anything else. No matter if you’re afraid of what I’ll think, or you’re trying to protect me.

Lie to me once, and lose me forever.

The solution to most problems.

The solution to most problems.

"We tell lies when we are afraid… afraid of what we don’t know, afraid of what others will think, afraid of what will be found out about us.  But every time we tell a lie, the thing that we fear grows stronger"

Wise words, girl.

Wise words, girl.