Climbing Felsenmeer
Notes from the sea of rocks
Hello, friends! If you’re new here, welcome. This is my space to practice writing and storytelling, and to share observations from my path. Today’s writing is in a bit of a different style than usual, but as I tried to turn it into something else (several times), I was reminded of Stephanie Duncan Smith’s recent encouragement for writers to own our weird. Thanks, as always, for being here.
Climbing Felsenmeer1
On Holy Saturday
Staring up at a field of boulders / geologic marvel / shifting tectonic plates / disorganized jigsaw of earth / Felsenmeer, they call it / sea of rocks.
Cell service exists in the sea of rocks / text message pings / “We’ll find our way …” / simple words from a friend / almost benign / except my friend has cancer / stares at a jarring loss of normal / daunting medical bills / steep climb ahead.
Earlier today / another friend texted / doesn’t know how to go forward or backward / reminds me of my own bouldered questions / the ones I work out on neighborhood walks / old questions in different forms / each step, always an asking.
Will we?
Will we find our way?
I climb the first rock / one step leads to more / innumerable decisions / hundreds of possible choices / hold on with both hands / both feet / both hips / all four chambers of my heart / incline steeper than expected / presence of preschoolers and grandmas quite deceiving (almost insulting) / stairs look compelling / my family says must we carry on.
Now, a decision to step left or right / searching for the easiest option / ocean of less-than-ideal choices / cannot go forward / try reversing / see a possibility (a risk) / balance on a narrow pitch of slender rock / two slow seconds pass / one / two / jump / (pray) / land.
For a time, I follow a child / let young legs and optimism guide me / then remember my age / lack of conditioning / let myself pause / rest.
Across the valley / vibrant green hillside peppered with rooftops / view worth the price of admission (free in dollars, costly for my legs) / here, on this holy waiting day / I wait / balancing on a sea of rocks / field of questions / joy over having climbed this far / daunted by work ahead / wondering what lies over the next ridge / will we find our way?
Legs move again / again / again / lead where my mind cannot / climb finally ends / we order ice cream – zwei scoops / drive home (feel accomplished) / weekend turns to Sunday / hope blossoms on the magnolia trees / but part of me still lingers on that hillside / floating on the rocky sea / surrounded by sweat and beauty / unsure where the way leads next / but knowing I will climb on / each step, always an asking.
Finally …
I’ve been on a hiatus from my formal newsletter as we make this international move, so allow me to drop a few newsletter-y notes here:
Two beautiful books from writer friends landed in my mailbox recently. Congratulations to Ashlee Gadd on the release of Create Anyway, and Kim Knowle-Zeller and Erin Strybis on The Beauty of Motherhood. I got to read both of these books in earlier draft stages, and it has been a joy to watch these authors’ creative processes unfold.
After launching a small women’s leadership collaborative together earlier this year, my friend Jeanette Thomas (JT) and I are offering a series of three online workshops around the theme Lessons from Unexpected Paths. Our first workshop is on April 22nd, and we’ll be sharing bits of the journey both of us have taken recently, including my overseas move and JT’s cancer diagnosis. We’ll invite participants to consider what unexpected things may have come your way – big or small – and offer space for reflection. Any interested women can learn more here.
Such an amazing picture of this life and our journeys. It is okay to pause, soul care, reflect and move slowly. I love this , Jenna.
I love this and am a big fan of your "weird"! :)