🌄 Climbing Back Into Presence

I came down to Phoenix for a few reasons. One of them was simply to get out of my current environment and be around old friends who share my love for the outdoors. These people range from their 30s to their 70s, yet what connects us is the same — that spark of adventure, that appreciation for nature, and the camaraderie that grows when you push past your limits together.

I’ve always loved that sense of community. Every season, we welcome up to thirty new students into the program. I have the privilege of assisting as an instructor — a role that gave me a chance to revisit the basics after nearly two years away from climbing. Between a rotator cuff surgery and my divorce, I hadn’t been on the rock for far too long.

So I came back not just to climb, but to reclaim my space in this world — to return to something that has always grounded me.

At the outdoor portion of the course, I worked a station and met a woman who was nervous — it was her first time climbing. By the end of the day, she looked like a pro. All I did was remind her to trust her instincts, let the training guide her, and lean on the community when she needed support. As we talked, she said something that hit me deeply: she complimented my energy and my wisdom.

That landed because just the day before, I had been questioning myself — questioning this whole path, this project, this Becoming. Then this person shows up out of nowhere and mirrors back exactly what I needed to hear. It was like the universe sent a cheerleader to remind me: you’re on the right track — don’t look back now.

Another reason I came to Phoenix was for downtime. The classes only filled five of the nine days I’d be here, and I wanted to use the rest to finish writing my book. Sitting in that quiet hotel room gave me the perfect space to do just that.

And I wrote.

But the best part wasn’t the writing — it was what came through me as I wrote.

I cried at least six times. Not from pain, but from pride. From gratitude. From realizing how far I’ve come. I hadn’t felt that kind of pride in years — the kind that fills your chest until tears fall on their own. It was pure and humbling.

Now, I feel grounded. Centered. Certain.

Maybe it sounds selfish or egotistical, but I know this: I’m ready to change the trajectory of my life.

This isn’t theory anymore — this is real.

I even went ahead and created my LLC, got my EIN, and filed the paperwork.

There’s no going back now.

Great Becoming is officially in motion.

“Sometimes you have to climb back into presence to remember who you are.”