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Gleeson reboots

Go Tell it on the Mountain

7/27/2017

13 Comments

 
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So here I am. Tucked away in a lodge in Tanzania, so close to Kilimanjaro I can almost feel its shadow caressing my body. Just a little more than a year ago I swore I'd spend my 51st birthday climbing Kili, one of the Seven Summits, as the tallest mountain on each continent are called. I'm five days late. I'm okay with that.

I spent this afternoon packing my kit bag, which the porters will carry, and my pack, which seems disconcertingly heavy - and that's without the six liters of water I'll be lugging. I'm trying to drink as much as possible now, before we set off. There is little that is as important in high altitude trekking than staying hydrated. I learned that on my rehearsal climb to Colorado's Quandary Peak when I ran out of water. It was amazing how fast altitude sickness hit me once I stopped drinking. 

I'm less than 24 hours away from the moment I'll set foot on Kilimanjaro and yet I still can't quite believe I'm here. I'm disconnected from my emotions, though I can feel them gliding under the surface of everything I experience. Maybe I'm afraid to let them rise, because I know once they do they will be uncontrollable. 

It seems years, decades, even, since I pledged to climb Kili. So much has changed. I've been to Israel and the Galapagos Islands, both life altering trips in their own way. I've roamed around the South with a new lover, who was beautiful and wild and reminded me of a Kerouac character. I write for Woman's Day now, a twice-monthly column on the magazine's website that challenges and delights me in equal measure. I've grown. I'm immeasurably stronger than I was before my heart was broken to bits by loss.

But I still struggle. I still feel a far distance from joy. My brother's death over three years ago still can bring me sobbing to my knees. I still struggle to process the end of my relationship with a man I thought would love me forever. I still mourn and fear my parent's disintegration, hastened, for them both, I suspect, by my mother's recent dementia diagnosis. 

I ask myself almost daily when I'll feel peace again, contentment. I hope that when I summit Kilimanjaro's 19,341 feet that I will leave some of the pain of the last three years there. I brought a few handfuls of my brother's ashes with me to toss at the sky, to be taken by the wind and spread like stardust over the continent where mankind began. 

I don't kid myself that this will erase or even alter the pervasive sorrow caused by his death I live with every day. But then I don't want it to, because with this sorrow I honor him. And I know standing atop the highest free-standing mountain in the world won't save my parents. Maybe I'm simply running from them, from how sad their decline is, from how much it hurts to witness to it. But I want to make them proud of me. I want them to find pleasure in the exploits of their mountain-climbing daughter.

My friend Sera gave me a small Mayan talisman in the shape of a man for my birthday. It's to represent the only person who ever broke my heart, and the misery his brutal leave-taking caused. It's to represent the love I still feel for him, too, the confusing mix of rage and fondness the thought of him brings. I'm to leave it on top of Kilimanjaro, in the snow or scree, to be worn down by the elements. To be forgotten. Because in the end, anyone who demands you be less than you are doesn't deserve the space in your soul his memory takes.

Serafice, and my trainer, Steve Jury, who ascended Kilimanjaro last year, both tell me that once I drag my body to summit I will be emptied of much of what weighs me down. Climbing Kilimanjaro will almost break me. Only about half of the people who attempt the summit make it. It will hurt. It will reduce me to my most elemental self, allowing so much that is unnecessary, that harms, to dissolve.

I hope they're right. I'm ready. Because once that weight is lifted, who knows how high I can go?


13 Comments
H.S.P.
7/27/2017 04:14:53 pm

Enjoy the journey, even when it's a struggle.

Reply
serafice link
7/27/2017 04:49:57 pm

💚💜💚 slow & steady 💚💜💚

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Ellis C. Barthe
7/27/2017 04:53:17 pm

Loss lightens load, we pass over the bar and into a safe harbor.

Reply
Sharry
7/27/2017 05:18:15 pm

You go, Jill! We haven't met yet, but as two daring redheads, I am sure we will someday! I am praying for you and will be shouting your name when you summit.

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Lorraine Dion
7/27/2017 07:00:58 pm

You are amazing, Jill!

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Mary Fountaine
7/28/2017 12:43:08 am

So. Stinking. Excited. You're THERE. My God, you're already a success. You said you would go and you WENT. And sometimes luck doesn't favor you and (I know you know) shit happens so as much as I want to see the picture of you on the top of that mountain, middle fingers at the sky, just the fact that you're THERE makes me tear up. I am so, so, so proud to know you.

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Vivienne
7/28/2017 03:48:38 pm

Go Jill -- thinking about you!

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Betsy Loveless
7/28/2017 11:28:03 pm

Go Jill I'm so proud of you know matter what! You are a inspiration to all! You got this!

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Rebecca Bingham
7/30/2017 08:11:21 am

It's Sunday morning here, and I'm whispering prayers for you with each sip of coffee. Many of us are waiting for your first post, eager to hear you are safe, somewhere. I admire your courage, your persistence and willingness to leave it all on the mountain. xoxo

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Lori link
7/31/2017 10:52:56 am

You Rock Jill! My prayers for strength and peace are with You my Friend. :-)

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Jonyl Adams
8/1/2017 09:42:23 pm

Kili is a serious mountain. I know people who have done it. It sounds like you take it seriously with your training and advice from someone who has done it. Africa itself can be a paradigm changing experience.

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https://www.resumeshelpservice.com link
10/17/2018 10:54:04 am

I am really into mountaineering, but I can feel that you've done a lot of things already that is regarding to this field. Well, we don't need to explain ourselves all the time. If you fee like you are still in the phase where you keep on asking yourself several questions, please always think that it's okay to get confused with the thing that's happening in your life. it's normal to have such outlook in life.

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Ginny Liddicoat
3/21/2022 12:10:34 am

Just read your 2019 article on the need to be alone. Most artists are born with that need and art is one solution. Everyone made art as a child but by the time they are adults, they have forgotten that very human need to create. Creating gives you time alone. I suggest drawing if only for 15 minutes a day. It doesn't matter what is drawn...a tree, a branch, a thumb, a soup can, a space ship or just a doodle. It gifts one some time alone.

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    Jill Gleeson

    Jill Gleeson is a journalist based in the hills of western Pennsylvania. She is a current contributor to The Pioneer Woman, Country Living, Group Travel Leader, Select Traveler, Going on Faith, Wander With Wonder, Enchanted Living and State College Magazine, where her column, Rebooted, is featured monthly.  Other clients have included
    Woman's Day, Gothamist, Washingtonian, EDGE Media Network, Canadian Traveller, Country and  Country Woman. 

    Email me! 

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