controlling perfect

perfectionism: refusal to accept any standard short of perfection.

This is a sad truth that I am revealing to you. One that many of you already are fully aware of.

I identify with this persona. I strive to avoid all things that are less than perfect.

Here's the thing. Perfection is relative. Also, "perfectionism" is sometimes a term that is just a mask for "an obsession with control."

Control is something we are constantly told to "let go of." Let go of the need to be right, let go of the need to do things a very specific, very structured way. Let go of the expectations & the destination. Focus on the now, the journey, the loss of things being just so. Let it be what makes you up, the body in which you are living your life in.

I am someone who is constantly picking a fight. I like to be right. I like to be right so much that I don't even see myself pushing back toward people I love until I have already done it & we are looking back on the conversation. I am refusing to admit that that was what was happening. That I had to be right. I find all sorts of other things to pin it on, "no, I don't care, I was simply saying..." 

No, see, no. 

You are becoming wrapped up in that deep drive. That force that refuses to yield. When life is made up of learning & failures & becoming better, you refuse. You think because you are "attempting at making yourself better," that you actually are. But deep down, at the core of the thing, you are stubborn & ultimately, right.

Here's my thought. Just stop with the constant movement going on in your brain. There's a simple answer. Allow the words to settle like dew on blades of grass. Do not send your ray of heat, like the morning sun, to evaporate that moment of growth. Everything is not an attack. Everything doesn't have to be defended or explained. You can allow that moment to wash over you like a fresh tidal wave. The salt water grazing your skin. 

Allow it. 

Allow this to happen.

Control does ugly things to a person. When they don't allow the control to recede from their minds, hearts & lips. They become a cage. A hollow shell that refuses to look in any other direction. I have always done this this way. I will always do this this way. No, darling, no. Life doesn't work this way & anyone who tells you that it does is wrong. 

Like you. 

You are wrong. 

Often. 

Maybe what you need to allow is the realization that right & wrong is not a death sentence, or a succession, or a white flag. It does not mean that you have lost your "perfection." It just makes you look selfish, arrogant & stagnant. You refuse to grow if you do not allow yourself room to let go of control. You are standing in the face of it & saying, "yep, I am refusing to grow because my pride is more important." It doesn't work this way. You holding on to the sand only makes it push more deeply past your fingers. You must loosen that grip, dear. It isn't about being a failure, although that is something that will have to be remedied in different ways, but releasing the all-encompassing need for control. To be cliche & let it go is the only way to welcome in the growth you so strongly desire. You must change to allow the change to occur. 

You aren't going to like it all the time. You will fight it in your head. You will make a snarky comment, or smirk, or be passive aggressive. You will want to overcome those split-second responses. And the most beautiful part is, you can. Just take a breath, look out into the distance, see the wave breaking & welcome it in with open arms. The crash may feel overwhelming, but the aftermath will be sweet. 

Don't stop there. Let the waves keep crashing over you. 

Allow it. 

Don't try to control the waves. You simply can not. 

You are in a special place, love. 

Just slow it all down until you have no choice but to let go of the desire to fight.

change.

There's a shift in my surroundings lately. I'm picking up all the things I've collected over the past two years, or have travelled with across continents & oceans. I am getting rid of a lot of things, purging my closet of all the cast offs that were purchased without really giving thought to its needlessness.

I'm spending longer moments in the morning just taking in my surroundings. I am the most habitual create of habit in this wild kingdom. I enjoy routine, I enjoy systems, I enjoy the comfort of knowing what will happen next in my day. I make a very big effort to plan out the details so I have full control over all the possible outcomes. If I do this, then this may happen. Or may not happen. Ok. I need to be prepared for both. & when I'm not, I feel lost & incredibly grouchy.

Change is this for me. I feel lost & foggy. Like I can't get my thoughts together to start the day because I don't have a routine. I don't have structure to my existence.

This is something that is coming for me. Change in a big way.

I am moving to a new city in less than two weeks. I've been to this city a few times now, trying to get a small grasp at what is to come - how I will structure my life in this place. Fully formed with all it's foreign people - it's groups & circles. It's spinning wheel of normalcy, for so many.

I have moments when I am soaking up my morning, with my warm cup of coffee in my hand, looking out onto the quiet courtyard beyond the balcony. Birds joining in unison as the breeze sweeps hair into my face. I feel this comfort of knowing that mornings are this. They are slow steps walking across the wooden floor of the open space in this studio apartment. Yoga on the big windowsill. The dining room table, my desk. Hot baths when I need to think. Moving furniture to pack my yoga students in twice a week. Watercolor paints on the floor late at night when I need to release my thoughts. Steam rising through the kitchen when making tea, that fogs the balcony window in the living room. Afternoon naps on the long length of the couch, sleeping in an L shape because it helps to block the sunlight from my closed eyes. Running up the flights of stairs in the open space inside the building. The small rooftop landing that overlooks the neighborhood & downtown in the distance. Getting glances from the lady who takes out the trash - I always wonder what she is secretly thinking as she mops the floor outside our front door. Hanging damp clothing on our rack next to the hanging plants. Overlooking the dozen other buildings with clothing hanging on their balconies. The hushed distant sound of the buses and cars moving across the river. The way the table creaks when I am writing on it. The weight of our front door as I pull it closed behind me. The dim light that warms this space. This city that has taught me to be better, less reactive & more responsive.

I feel like there are many things about picking up & moving that will only produce more beautiful change, more opportunities to grow & more space to create. I know that no one loves change. We like comfort. We like to know that we can hold on to something & it won't disintegrate in our hands. It's just that initial moment of separation. That driving away from our home in the moving truck and knowing you may never be here again. That longing for all those moments you took for granted. I am feeling nostalgic for the present.

Reminder:
Nothing is forever.

cages.

rain is dripping steadily off the eaves of our building.

a stream of water falling to the earth, watering the ground, the life that blossoms & yields.

I awoke this mornings feeling heavy.

like my bones literally had weights attached to them - my ribs refusing to expand.

short breaths gasped in the morning light.

I got angry last night, I yelled.

I try to speak & find that I have lost my voice.

I wouldn't surrender, I was refusing.

I find that the rain watering the earth this morning is my lesson.

you can not grow without the water.

you may think you can, love, but you can't.

you will dry up & wither. you will stretch out your leaves turned brown & think you've got it all together. but you need the rain. you need to surrender. you need to be renewed, reminded. you need to let down the walls of pride that you build like a cage. you believe that it will protect you, that you are above it all - but it only ensnares you, wrapping you up in a reality that is so distant from the truth. you need the rain. you need to destroy the cage.

stop fighting the rain, love.

stop fighting.

expat existence

life is a funny thing, sometimes.

we seek excitement, or change, only to feel overwhelmed by it when it hits us.

I wonder sometimes what the last few chapters of my "season in china" will look like.

My existence in this state can feel like a current flowing, back & forth. I don't always know what I'm doing where I am, or how I'm supposed to handle the things the present flow of life is throwing my way. I get restless, I feel caged, and I start to drown under the weight of all of it.

Perception does a lot to someone when they actually take the moment to reflect on the space it inhabits. I read a book about someone who's mother got cancer & the distress that created, and I shudder to think that I've ever complained about my life or living situation. As if I have any room for that when I am healthy & breathing.

I find I am frequently getting lost in identifying the most important things in my life. I feel pulled in various directions because of stigma's & expectations. I want to lead a healthy life here, mimicking the life I lead back home, where whole food's was close by, juice bars on every other corner, and the ability to run in fresh air were at my outstretched fingertips. The ability to choose those options because they were in my face constantly. There was no battle, I could just go & do. China has created a swirling vortex of challenges when it comes to my perception of health. I've had to get creative with my diet & exercise, and the motivation to stick with the things that have become so regimented in my life, so normal. So natural.

The expat life isn't one where you stick to the things you are used to. You may be able to find moments of familiarity; little gems hidden in pockets of a place. A juice bar that opens in your neighborhood, or a new sports store with yoga mats & hiking shoes available. But they are glimmers of what was once so easy in striving toward a healthy lifestyle.

I am so determined to stay healthy while I am here, that I jeopardize social connections (as they usually revolve around a mass meal of heavily oiled chinese food, or copious amounts of [sometimes fake] alcohol.) I usually choose to stay home & practice yoga or read a book than to go out and indulge in that lifestyle. It's a conundrum that I've been dealing with since I arrived. Few people, if any that I've met, have even a drop of desire to work towards a healthy lifestyle beyond trying a diet to shed a few pounds for an upcoming trip, or abstaining from drinking because it's lent. I choose to eat food I cook at home because I feel better about knowing what I'm putting inside my body, so it challenges the social aspect of "finding friends" in this city I live in. It's as if "health" has almost no place here.

This is a challenge that I am hoping to remedy, I'm just not sure how to go about doing that. I feel out of place amongst the community of people who come here to have a good time & go out frequently.

Do I care too much? Am I living too stringently to allow life to happen & experience things that are new and rewarding? I fight daily with these feelings of health physically vs. potential health mentally - but I still fail to connect with others on a more intimate level. I crave real conversations that aren't just about weekend plans.

I want to work toward finding the balance without losing myself to one of the major things that I feel good about & that makes me happy - my health.

When you are so far removed from most of the things you enjoy - all the comforts of home, all the "easy" ways to connect - you cling to the things that fill you with those same feelings here. But man, do I often feel torn.

Find the balance, girl. You've got to find the balance.

Fitness & health are so strongly tied into my overall happiness & feelings of well being. It is hard for me to gain as much pleasure from eating a greasy meal with a few friends over sweating in the sun while doing sprints by the river. They are too totally different experiences - I would ordinarily choose the workout over the social stimulation. This makes me a little sad to think about now, as I am typing this.

What is more important, health or friendship?

Aren't they both equally something of value?

two years

there really are no words to describe it, because i never would have thought i could love someone more than i did that day, but it is true. i love you more than the day i walked down that aisle toward you. i love you more than the first i love you, or the hundredth or the thousandth. 

waking up next to you each day is a gift, having someone as encouraging & supportive as you inspiring me to be a better person, your arms that envelope me in warm morning hugs. your hand that always finds mine. i am always in awe of how God has so richly blessed me with you. you are an anchor, a soft whisper, a home. 

you have all of me, my love. i am so happy to be your wife.

xo, dani

night time.

sometimes I find myself in a very quiet place.

the apartment is still, the heater off now that winter has shed it's thick layers & the sunshine is making its appearance, warming the day.

The sounds of gentle rhythms & soft voices are hushed whispers in the background as I play something to fill the silence.

I get really introspective & I ponder a great deal.

I boil water.

steep strong tea.

I allow my thoughts to sway in their watery home, as the waves of the day come to a lull & I start to tally up the score in my mind.

How many things did I accomplish, how many things did I leave undone.

What did I succeed in & what could I have done better in.
When could I have focused on the good, instead of clinging to the bad like a security blanket. 

What challenges did I flee from, pushing my way in the other direction.

I find myself in these moments.

My mind is not still - I plead with it to quiet it's restlessness for just a few moments.

I allow myself to focus on my breath.

The rising & falling of my chest.

I return to this sensation.

The breath that has been given to me.

I banish the thoughts from my mind that stir up chaos.

They create a swell of unrest.

I shift in my seat, my tea is steaming in it's sterling blue mug.

I take a sip, it is dark & bitter.

I return to my breath.

Why must I fight with my own thoughts so often?

You are a disruption, I think to myself.

I am reminded of so much in these seemingly still moments.

My fingers find these keys, I begin to type these things.

I don't have a clear cut plan for what I want to say, the words they just come crashing out.

I want to find some structure to my life that involves getting my hands a little dirty.

That allows room for mistakes & trials that will teach me to grow.

I push those things aside so quickly, to make room for the things I like or am good at.

Why do I feel so stuck, I ask myself.

It's because you have forgotten to allow yourself room to make mistakes.

To learn, to breathe a new breath - one that is not calculated, or precise.

Just freely flowing, creating space where there once was none.

The discomfort is only temporary, I tell myself.

The real victory is overcoming the moments when I feel like I can't try.

When I am scared to look over the edge & see a mountain of my failures.

Is it really that scary?

Aren't we all just giant mistake makers, who prance around acting like we've got it together?

There is a slight chill to the room now. I stretch out my legs beneath the table. The warmth of the tea sends a slight shiver down my spine. I hold the mug in my hands and shift the dark amber liquid from side to side, like a boat making small movements on the sea.

You need to be renewed, I say.

You need to have faith.

You need to trust that there is a reason for all these things.

I roll my head around on it's neck, stretching the ligaments & tendons.

Reminding myself to drop my shoulders from cradling my ears as if they we're infants in need of hands to hold up their tiny heads.

I know all of these things, I say.

I know them all so much which is what makes these lulls of stillness almost unbearable.

I know that I need to make the choice to do the hard things.

I just don't want to.

I feel the anxiety in the ocean of my mind begin to toss up its current.

The driving force which causes me to stand up & walk around the room.

I know all of these things, I know them to my core.

So why is it so hard to make the choice to change?

Why it is so damn hard?

The screen is staring back at me. The question mark a silent taunt.

There is no answer being projected on the screen. There is no directions manual.

Life is a giant whirlwind of choices, mistakes, failures & triumphs. They can't all be triumphs just as they can't all be failures.

It doesn't have to be one or the other.

It's time to find the balance.

I am a ship destined to move about on these stormy waters.
I am not meant to sit silently moored to my dock.
No movement, no crashing waves.
Nothing that challenges me or makes me try harder to hold it together.
I was not meant for this, I say.
I am meant for greater things, if I would allow them to manifest in my life instead of pushing them all away.

The music has stopped.

It has stopped a long time ago.

I just realized this as I stopped typing, and the silence completely envelopes me.

Let it go, I say.

It doesn't have to be this way.

28 things.

1. I woke up this morning in a king sized hotel bed in Shanghai.

2. My husband has a tendency to wish me a happy birthday about 20 times before we've even eaten breakfast. & I LOVE it so much that he does that.

3. Jeremy & I have a tradition of making each other really elaborate brunch's for each other's birthdays. This is the first year I can remember that we weren't able to.

4. I had an amazing donut from Baker & Spice for second breakfast (it may even have been elevensies...)

5. If I had my choice I would choose warm donuts over cake.

6. Carvel ice-cream cake was my favorite cake flavor until I realized you could just have donuts for your birthday instead. (or both.)

7. My dear husband took me to the only lululemon in all of China to get me my first ever legit yoga mat (that won't disintegrate into a million pieces after each use.)

8. Also, LLL is crazy stupid expensive. Over $100 USD for a pair of yoga pants? Cray.

9. I got to have a little taste of my favorite fast food from home at Mex & Co, one of the only chipotle-esque burrito bars in Shanghai. 

10. Fact: I think that if I could eat only one food for the rest of my life, it would be chipotle burritos.

11. For my thirteenth birthday I had a sleepover party & my mom made a cake that looked like girls sleeping in sleeping bags. It was one of the most memorable cakes I ever had.

12. I refuse to check my facebook until the day after my birthday, so I get hit with a wall of happy messages all at once.

13. I hate telling people what sort of gift I want. I would rather just be given something that is meaningful & a total surprise.

14. When I was little, I wanted to celebrate my birthday in the summer because February rarely had nice warm days for outdoor parties.

15. I had a riveting conversation with Jeremy about the time of year I want our kids to be born - and the vote is anything but Winter. (see 14.)

16. I've never had a surprise party but it's something I've always wanted.

17. I ate the most insane cheeseburger with all the things imaginable topped on it for birthday dinner with Jer's parents - and it was heaven.

18. Also, red velvet cupcake.

19. The lead singer of my favorite high school band, Mae, has the same birthday as me.

20. One of my favorite birthday memories was spending my 21st in NYC (my first time ever being there,) with two of my best friends. We went to at least 5 different places that night & it was an amazing time.

21. One year, one of my friends surprised me by decorating the front door of my apartment & leaving a giant cupcake for me to find after a night at school.

22. I have successfully taken every birthday off from work for as long as I can remember. I had to go to a very full day of school on my birthday two years ago & I wanted nothing more than to skip, but because I had perfect attendance in all my classes up to that point, I chose to go. (perfectionist, much?)

23. I don't like to open my presents until the very end of the day - I enjoy the anticipation.

24. For my tenth birthday I got a purple ten-speed mountain bike and I didn't know I could get any happier than the moment I first rode it around my block.

25. I don't like happy birthday being sung to me. I feel awkward the entire time & can't wait for it to be over. 

26. Although, when I was little, I would sing the Happy Birthday song to myself, but I called myself "Danulls."

27. The only person outside my immediate family that I would call every year on their birthday (before moving to China) was my childhood friend, Justin.

28. The perfect ending to a birthday? Curling up on the couch to watch House of Cards season 3.

28. here's to you.

gravitation toward the same

Sometimes I get really caught up in the act of making a decision. I toy with the idea usually, mulling it over, the concept of what I am about to do & how it will impact me, positively & negatively. Sometimes I pump up the positives so they mask the negatives. Sometimes the price tag or the amount of work something will take keeps me from committing to those decisions. Sometimes I ponder for much longer than I personally think is normal.

Today I painted my fingernails a bright, happy, in between red & hint of orange hue. One in which I've done before but it had been done so very long ago & I didn't know how I would feel about it. I had been thinking about it for close to two weeks, since the last time my go-to color of oxblood had been chipped beyond repair, and I had foregone the simple act of repainting over the many layers. Fresh nails, devoid of color for weeks made me eager for something else.

But, I found myself eyeballing the oxblood lacquer sitting on my bathroom counter. I love the way that color looks. The depth, the darkness to it. It goes with everything & I love the way it compliments everything I wear because it's neutral. But then I realized that there is more to just sticking to the same thing, to the things that are safe or comfortable. So I began my first coat of the red, hoping that I was making the right decision.

It happens so often in life. The weight of a choice is so heavy; so full of possibilities. "If I buy this thing here, I won't be able to spend any more money at any of the other stores I am in today. What if I see something I like more?" Am I simply holding out for the perfect option? Is it something worth overcoming?

I rationalize all of my decisions - whether it be choosing a new vegetable for dinner, whether or not to take an arriving bus full of people or the next one, which may be five more minutes down the road merely for the chance it may be emptier, or whether to buy something now, or save the money for later.

I am notorious for going into a store, picking something up, trying it on, carrying it around the store for way longer than I should, after having examined every rack & shelf, mentally weighing what it's worth to me to buy said item, to simply drop it back off where it came from & march out of the store. Usually I return not long later to actually buy it, whether it be that day or on the next visit to that store at a later date.

I like grey clothes. I own probably 20 things at this moment that are all fairly similar to each other that are all varying shades of grey (in fact, they probably don't vary that much at all in their shade.) I simply like grey. I like the way it looks on me & how simple it is to pair other things with it. But, it lacks excitement. There isn't much color, or life to it. It's simply a melancholy color, much like the clouds that are hanging heavy over our city right now.

I gravitate toward the same things in most areas of my life. The choice has been made so many times, and I like that choice so much, that I don't try different ones. New ones. Potentially more exciting ones.

I find in life I stick with what I know, and it can be a really bad place if I am trying to grow. It is a common frustration of mine to feel stuck, but then do very little to make the appropriate changes. Being in China has opened up this door for me. I am working on doing hard things, or moving out of the routine order of my life, to experience more.

I like the oxblood nail polish I routinely wear. I like my grey hoodies & tshirts. But I am starting to learn that there are beautiful shades of orangey-red out there in life that are waiting to be experienced. I just need to be brave enough to take the risk.

happiness

I need to make my own happiness a priority.

in this time more than any other,

I need to find a tangible emersion of golden light.

I need to create a space that feels good to dwell in.

To wrap myself up in this place &

feel the goodness seep into my every pore.

I need to make my own happiness an every day pursuit.

The clouds, they hang low & heavy

but I refuse to let them in

clouding my mind;

my thoughts, a grey fog

bringing me to a place of sadness & dread.

I need to make my own happiness happen.

In the moments where I find nothing worth smiling about.

In the seconds that I find myself stare off into space.

Feeling alone, restless

discontent

frustrated.

those moments are the embers to the flame.

I can build a fire.

I need to make my own happiness real.

Not a figment of my mind.

Not a whisper of a thought.

A reality.

A truth that I can drench my soul in.

Happiness can be real.

It is a choice.

It is a struggle.

It is within my grasp.

It is a lot of things.

But it is not impossible.

It is not looking for a new home.

It is not picky or selfish.

It is here.

It is now.

I need to make happiness.

my own.

a day in the city

A normal weekly schedule during this time of the year consists of a lot of me at my apartment, reading blogs, practicing yoga or doing another HIIT style workout, drinking copious amounts of coffee, studying Chinese & cooking. I also tutor English to a bunch of kids on various evenings after school. Jeremy is going pretty much non-stop five days a week, teaching English at his center & studying Chinese in his "spare" time.

So, on Monday & Tuesday (our weekend), we make an effort to spend some quality time together. Whether that be a coffee date (sans phones or ipads,) cooking dinner together, or taking walks in a random corner of our city. It is such a high point of my week & something I look forward to with great anticipation. When you're constantly moving in opposite directions to get things done, those few hours of one on one time, no distractions, are priceless.

Being in China has really caused me to rely on Jeremy in new ways that I didn't think I would need to before we left our comfortable life in the states. Learning our new roles & what each person brings to the table is exciting & has it's challenges. I like to pick things apart & ask questions, Jeremy likes to mull & silently ponder. We have our strengths & weakness as any couple does, but I like to think of this time in China as a way to expand on our strengths & build each other up so we can both grow together & as well as separately.

Last week, we took an afternoon stroll in downtown Jeifangbei with warm cups of starbucks coffee (a little luxury here,) while we pretended to not look like tourists touting an actual camera around our necks. The clouds may take over the sky for a few months in winter, but these outings are like a little dose of sunshine.

China is a challenge in so many ways, but I know that having this time to really build a solid marital foundation is worth it all. Having the ability to focus on what each person means to the other, in difficult situations & when there are very few other's to turn to - it has really put things into perspective.

It has made me realize that I would travel to the most remote part of the world, as long as I have him by my side - experiencing, enduring & exploring.

Emeishan - a mountain

Jeremy & I have a running list of places we want to visit in this part of the world before our time in China is over & Emeishan. Emei (pronounced UH-mey) meaning "delicate eyebrow" & shan, meaning "mountain," was a big one. Essentially, there are two major peaks that face each other & are said to look like "the delicate eyebrows of a Chinese classic beauty." I never actually saw these two eyebrow peaks, but I'll take their word for it. It is said to be one of the three most sacred peaks in all of China & a major Buddhist mountain full of old temples & monasteries. Many have been known to make the trip up for spiritual reasons.

We decided we would make this climb over Jeremy's Christmas break, reaching the top on Christmas Eve. The original plan was to climb the first part of the mountain & stay at a temple or hostel near the top, at a designated major tourist stop where there is a bus drop-off. Our goal was get up about two hours before dawn the morning of Christmas Eve & finish the hike, watching the sunrise at the summit. Unfortunately, climbing the mountain took a bit longer than we had anticipated.

happy faces at the start of our climb.

We started out around 9am on the 23rd. We had asked the hostel worker in the town at the base of the mountain roughly how long it would take for us to climb it. He stated that someone climbing it at a pretty moderate pace would take around 14 hours. He said we could maybe do it in 12 if we really hustled. We both laughed a little under our breath, commenting that "we're much more in shape than the 'average' person hiking this so, we'll definitely make it to our destination by sundown." 

We were so wrong.

the mountain in this photo is not Mt. Emei. (I thought it was. Wrong again.)

Our trek began & we started to make our way up, what I thought, was Emei itself. What it turned out to be was just a baby foothill mountain that would open us up to a very vast expanse of mountains that break into Tibet. 

We summited the first foothill in an hour & started to make our way back down. I realized that we weren't even on Emei itself & then we came across a glorious lookout -- at which point we realized how far we had to go, with maybe 8 hours of good sunlight remaining. 

We kept our spirits high as the elevation continued to change & we summited a few more foothills. There was a lot of ascending & descending during this time of the day. We made it to the another giant temple, where we realized that we had finally arrived at the base of Emei. We had 7 hours of sunlight to go. 

temple on Emei & fellow mountain climber.

one of my favorite spots on the mountain.

We were at the base of Emei for a while, navigating around a river & along the edge of what becomes a large group of wild monkey's favorite place to hang out. I would have taken many more photos at this point if it weren't for the fact that we were actively being chased by the "sometimes aggressive" monkeys & I was petrified of being jumped on. I watched a group of Chinese tourists get pounced on by these monkeys & their pockets gone through, trying to find food. I put my hood up & hid behind Jeremy, who they had a particular affinity for. I guess they aren't used to tall people? Either way, they loved him & I was worried he was going to get attacked. Fun stuff. 

the only real picture we got of the monkeys before a heard of them started to circle around us.

It took us 30 minutes to finally move past the monkeys, as a very large one in particular kept blocking the path, refusing to let us through.

We really had to make up this lost time, as it was already 2pm & we had a really long way to go.

We spent much of the next two hours walking up the steepest stairs I'd ever climbed (up to this point.) Stopping to take breaks for breath & to gaze out at the magnificent view.

Two major things I noticed:

1. We were the only one's climbing at this point. All the tourists seemed to remain near the major temple at the base of Emei (where there just so happened to be a major bus stop) & just venture down to see the monkey before heading back. So we were all alone for hours, not seeing another soul until we stopped for a late lunch, after which we didn't see another person for about 2 hours after that. It was strange. The first time being completely alone while out in China.

2. It was so quiet on the mountain. Like, eerily quiet. We would stop trudging up the steps & aside from our rapidly beating hearts, you could have heard a pin drop. It really put into perspective how small & insignificant you are when you are surrounded by giant mountains as far as you can see.

We could see the sunlight reflecting off the opposite mountains, and shadows started to lengthen. We checked our map & asked the one person we had come in contact with for hours how much further until our next check-point, "Another hour..." they would tell us.

The air started to get thinner & colder as we continued our ascent. I felt like we had climbed the height of the mountain at least three times at this point, when I started to notice patches of snow on the ground.

We had made it to our next check point, but when we asked how much further until our next checkpoint, they told us two more hours. The sunlight was fading fast & I was not willing to be hiking for any extended period of time in the dark with our tiny little flashlights to guide us. Not to mention, we were very alone & it was very cold. I knew we had to make it to shelter before it got dark.

We really pushed on, trying our hardest to take shorter breaks & focus on getting to our check-point. Jeremy, the kind, wonderful soul, who had offered to carry our backpack the duration of the trip, was really starting to fade, and I was starting to worry we were gonna have to sleep on the trail. (Not an option.)

The path was getting crazy icy & very hard to navigate. We thankfully had bought some spikes for our shoes while we were in town so we strapped them on & continued down into another valley. I would get so frustrated every time we would start to descend. "I want to go up! Not down!" Every time we had made it to a very high point, we would almost immediately be brought back down - making a very large circle around Emei & back and forth between a few other mountains along the way. 

Night was falling fast. The path lead us along very, very steep cliffs where I worried our conversation would disturb the ice & snow above and cause a major landslide. We lowered our voices to a whisper & continued on our way.

Still over an hour away from what we thought would be our stopping point for the night (& no where near the bus depot a mere two hour hike to the top,) we started to get really tired. I was mentally panicking & I knew we needed to find a place to stay for the night, and soon.

We trudged up the steepest most challenging set of steps thus far, up to the top of a little mountain overlook. From a distance, it looked like an abandoned old building. Upon arriving, (and after about 5 minutes of regaining our breath,) we realized it was an old temple.

Jeremy converses with the family that kept up the monastary. There were rooms that could be rented for the night. Jeremy wanted to press on to our original destination, where he was hoping for something a bit nicer for us to crash at for the night. I told him that it was almost dark & that was at least another hour's climb from here. We knew we weren't going to make the summit before sunrise. We needed to call it a day.

The monastary fed us a very simple dinner of bok choy & some 

other unidentifiable vegetable with rice. We got our key to our room. It was a tiny, concrete space with two twin beds & no heat. The beds had heating pads & two quilts each. We piled all our blankets on to one twin bed, turned the heating pad on, spread our (now very wet) clothes on the opposite bed & tried to get some rest. It was maybe 8pm when we went to bed. 

I laid there, reading my book to distract me from the space we were sleeping it. It was by far the craziest place I had every slept. I didn't actually get much sleep (sharing a twin size bed will do that.) although we were plenty warm. My biggest fear was that our clothes wouldn't be dry by morning. We slept with a lot of clothing on, hoping that our body heat would dry them out some. That worked for almost everything.

We had our alarm set for 6am, eager to get back on the trail to make it to the summit by hopefully mid afternoon. As soon as we saw first light, we packed our gear, ate some peanut butter & apples we had packed and set out on the icy trail once more...

the morning view from the monastery.

the only other guest besides us.

The sky was very overcast. I felt like there was no way it would get any clearer by the time we got to the top. We both talked about our options - about how we needed to be back in the town at the bottom of the mountain by sundown because we needed to be back in Chengdu for Christmas. We wondered if the summit would be all that impressive considering the extensive fog & grey skies looming overhead. Or if we would even get to the summit before nightfall.

Trudging on, I felt like the wind had been sucked out of my sails. I definitely was feeling the exhaustion of the hike from the day before & the lack of sleep I got. I was really struggling to make much headway. Jeremy lead us most of the morning. 

About an hour after we had set out, we came to the original spot Jer wanted to stop at the night before. It was deserted. A small area with maybe three buildings, all boarded up & not a soul to be found. Thankfulness washed over me in the fact that we found the monastery when we did.

Another hour later, we made it to the (frozen) Elephant wading pool, another major check-point. It was also a giant breeding ground full of monkeys, however these guys were a little less aggressive & much more preoccupied with huddling together to stay warm.

This is where another moment hit me. As we started to make our way up (more) steps leading to a small rest-point, I noticed another couple hiking. Except one of the people was working their way up the mountain on one leg. He was hobbling up the steps on a crutch & his girlfriend was carrying a very large pack that you could tell she was really struggling with. But, they were making their way up & I felt so pathetic for ever complaining once about how tired I was. 

I also really wanted to high-five them.

With that reminder that I had two working legs, we continued up even steeper hills. Steps that went on as far up as you could see lay before us. All covered with ice & snow. We asked the rest-point person who was selling water how far to the next check-point (the original stopping point for last night, the two hours from the summit stopping point.) & he said another 2 hours. 

So, up we did climb.

We came across some tourists who were making their way down the mountain. They told us the summit was super overcast & not worth going up for. They also said we had about 45 minutes left until the next check-point (which was a major drop off point for the buses that go up & down the mountain.) So, we had much deciding to do.

We had already come up such a long way to just take a bus back down. We wanted to make the summit. When we got to the bus stop & next major check-point, we saw that the hiking path to the summit was closed due to heavy cloud coverage making it impossible to see anything. So, our only other option was to take a cable car up through the clouds & hope that the summit would have clear skies.

The cable car took about five minutes, during which time we rode through a blanket of clouds so thick you could see nothing outside the windows but white. It was a little unnerving knowing we were hanging off the edge of a giant mountain by a wire cable, with no ability to see anything below or above us.

Then, slowly, the sun started to break through the clouds. As we continued up, the thick fog started to dissipate & we could see a bright blue sky awaited us.

We were so happy to have pressed on to the top. Even though we made it after sunrise, we still made it & the feeling of standing on the top of that 10,000 foot mountain after 14 hours of hiking felt amazing.

handstands at 10,000 feet.

celebratory pumpkin chai.

the golden summit.

a sea of clouds.

The view of the mountain peeks breaking through the clouds below - a sight I won't soon forget.

I am so thankful for our safety throughout the entire trip & the fact that we actually have the physical ability to hike up such a great mountain.

& truly, adventuring in China has been one of the biggest things I get really amped about.

I am grateful in those moments that I am alive & able to experience intense moments of triumph, adventure & excitement such as this.