The Little Prince and the Fox

Yesterday I was able to rediscover — or rather, once again express and give resonance to — an important part of myself: the more extrovert, playful part of me who wants (and even needs) to just share simple fun.

I’m neither fully an introvert nor really an extrovert, I’m somewhere in between, needing a lot of time/space to myself but also together with other persons. And while in general I tend to seek one-on-one interactions that often allow me to connect more deeply to someone, I also truly enjoy spending time with small groups of people (if they’re people with whom I feel comfortable — I can be so “socially awkward”!). Despite my quirkiness, there is a part of me that really is — or can be — the “heart of the party” or the “cheer-leader”: given the right circumstances, I truly love organizing gatherings/activities/meetings with a group of friends or buddies. I’ve done it throughout my life for my birthday and other occasions such as housewarmings or any random excuse to celebrate or have relaxed fun. 

In the past couple years, I had done much less of this; partly, like most of us, because of COVID, but partly also because of some of my own emotional and professional roller-coasters. 

But yesterday all of the stars seemed to align again, at last: it was a gorgeous, warm beach day in my neighborhood and I was able to find a few good friends who were available to drive over, impromptu, to have a “beach dinner party”. And it was truly lovely: to be able to be outdoors in good weather surrounded by people who sincerely like and value me as I am, to just relax and chat and have a beer and be my unfiltered self in such comfortable, safe and fun company — what a wonderful gift! I hadn’t had something like this in so much time that I had almost forgotten that it’s possible: I had almost forgotten that I can be truly relaxed, melting into the sand, sharing the sunset, letting myself be hugged by the starry sky and lulled by the ocean waves. And that I can do it together with other people, with persons who truly care and enjoy and value doing this with me. 

I can be fun! 

Yes, I can be “difficult”; but I can also be fun: truly, simply, playfully fun! 

“The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.” [Victor Hugo]

Last week I was having a conversation with a person to whom I’ve grown close in some weird ways and hadn’t seen since before my amazing trip this summer, so we were catching up and he was asking me how I’m doing. And to explain the extent to which I felt well — healed, liberated, empowered — after my wonderful summer experiences, I said, “Basically, I came into myself and out to the world, and found an accepting, loving, welcoming, warm response from the people around me”. 

Now I’m realizing how that combination of ingredients was so important and good for me this summer: thanks to specific, nurturing or encouraging circumstances and persons, I was finally able to come fully into myself, as a sort of culmination of year-long processes, and found the courage to come out to the world as wholly myself; but this wasn’t sufficient, or the only aspect of my well-being: the fact of feeling accepted and welcomed and loved by those around me, just as I am, just as I was manifesting myself to them — that’s what truly gave me the ultimate joy. 

And that’s what I feel I’m lacking here now. 

I’m not saying I’m not loved or accepted here. I do have some very close, good friends who love me and on whom I can count here, too. But there’s something of the environment here that seems to lack the warmth or open-arms-welcome I had felt over the summer. And while I’m probably in one of the best places in the world to express my non-binary identity fully, I somehow feel that many parts of me (of how I am or how I behave) are unacceptable or unwelcome or considered “inappropriate” here — or maybe most people are just less interested in close, warm connections here as their goals lie more in the direction of professional/financial success? In which case, I would be a misfit here anyway… 

I don’t know exactly what is going on with me but I feel like I’m on the top of a mountain or edge of a cliff: high up, having reached a high point and achieved some wonderful goals, but also in an extremely precarious situation and unstable equilibrium. There are days, or even just brief moments, when my mood soars, everything feels so wonderful — usually connected to a good workout, fun/close company, satisfying work, or sunny weather. But then, the moment the weather turns gray and foggy again, or none of my friends are available or my climbing buddies are all busy or make different plans and cancel with me — then everything can turn black for me, I feel an unfathomable sense of loneliness. 

This wild swinging of my emotions and mood causes problems in two ways. 

Firstly, it is very painful for me: in the bad moments, or hard days, everything seems so black that life almost seems unworthy to be lived or I feel like I’m some “monster” and I wonder what is wrong with me and despair of ever “fixing” it/myself. Which then, in turn, makes me feel angry towards “society & its conditioning” that I should even feel that “I have to fix myself”. 

On the other hand, it seems to cause problems for me in socializing and making friends or lasting connections — at least here in California. So it becomes a real, practical problem because it increases my sense of loneliness, thus feeding the vicious circle. 

I grew up in a mixed-culture household: one in which strong emotions where particularly common and evident, and often went unleashed. Something that I myself often struggled with and tried to avoid, to a certain extent, while growing up and then decided to leave behind me as an adult. So now my emotionality and my way of dealing with strong emotions is quite different from my nuclear family’s — I have also done a lot of psychological/therapeutic work on myself, which I believe has helped me to grow and become more balanced. But I still do feel and show strong emotions. I’m often being described as “passionate”, “full of energy”, “fiery”, and “intense” — and here in California more than ever. The first three labels are often intended as compliments or, at least, in a positive way. But the last — “intense” — is definitely meant as a “defect” or criticism. And this is one thing I really don’t like about many people here, the way they say “She/He’s intense” with a derogatory tone in their voice, almost with condemnation. 

First of all, I think emotions are intense, not people: people can be emotional, but intensity pertains to emotions. 

Secondly, I don’t see what the problem is with emotions being intense. Yes, emotions can be intense. Emotions often are intense. That’s life. Does that affect the rosy picture of Hollywood movies for people here? Or is it “inappropriate” to show one’s emotions? Or are there only some specific “appropriate” or “good” emotions that one is allowed to share/show, depending on gender, age, race, etc.? 

I think I’m hurt and angry in this moment. Maybe because I was really hoping to “find home” here at last, after so much seeking and wandering in my life, and now I feel that this might be the wrong place for me, after all, but also that there might never be a “right place” for me because of my culturally mixed background: I’ll never really fit in anywhere. 

I guess what I can do now — my “next right step” — is to try and parse out the extent to which there’s a cultural issue between me and the environment in which I currently live, and where instead the problem is my own in the sense of my own past wounds and traumas playing out and triggering and keeping me in unstable balance on the tip of this mountain instead of on some nice plateau… and remembering that there have been places and times where I have connected deeply and easily with people around me… 

So yes, there might be a “monster” in me, and I need to get that “monster” healed, but maybe I’m not fully a monster… 

Courage to me means owning my emotions: acknowledging my own feelings to myself, admitting what I feel, allowing myself to feel that way and, if necessary, telling people around me who might be involved/connected/affected by my emotions. 

Courage to me yesterday meant walking back into a full classroom, after being away from campus for a year and a half because of COVID, and telling my students, almost with tears in my eyes, how overwhelmed I felt and how scattered my brain was.

Courage to me today means writing here that the relief I felt so intensely and proudly for a couple days last week after the conversation with the bouldered was then replaced by a sense of loss, and thus sadness, over the weekend. 

Courage for me today means writing that I am afraid. Afraid of not ever finding what I really want, especially now that it’s becoming more and more clear to me. 

The sense of loss that overcame most of my other emotions this weekend is not related to that one person or conversation specifically; it’s more that that clarifying and relieving conversation, which brought me so much well-deserved liberation and closure (and pride!) last week, has brought to the forefront issues in which I seem to keep incurring. 

I would like (a) partner(s) with whom I could share more closely my lively, adventurous, playful, even childish approach to life — someone with whom I could share a weekend of camping and rock-climbing, or sailing; or take off for a road trip and go exploring; or walk aimlessly along the beach taking photos; or sit and (not) talk. Someone with whom to build “something” without that “something” being a “traditional family” or a “shackled relationship”. 

And over the course of my life, I have met people with whom I’ve gotten close to this type of relationship or “dream”. My first two “loves” were really close to this “ideal” I have — and for this I am extremely grateful: I will always cherish and treasure those persons and relationships, also knowing that the love I had with them helped me to go into life with a “buoying gift in my heart”. And then, since moving to California, I seem to have been getting closer to persons who want similar things in life as me, but it’s never quite “right”. In the end, there always seems to be some big “deal-breaker” or “wrong timing” or “emotional unavailability”. My vision seems to turn into a mirage, as if I had seen — or imagined — something that wasn’t truly there…  

So am I imagining things? Is the strength of my own imagination overshadowing reality and not allowing me to see what is truly there? Or is it more of a cultural or maturity-level issue?

Many of these persons have been unable (or unwilling) to face “elephants in the room” with me until I brought it up. I might have partly caused their incapacity (or unwillingness) to be fully open and honest with me because I am so strong (or “intense”, as people often say here). But stating one’s own boundaries and feelings is the sign of a person’s maturity and, often, also an act of compassion towards other person(s) — And for this specific reminder, I am very grateful to the friend who visited with me yesterday evening and phrased it so well: thanks! 

So maybe my take-away message for today is that courage also lies in — or can be expressed through — emotional maturity and compassion… 

Just a few days ago, I saw this sticker I really liked at my climbing gym: a rainbow flag with the words “Courage is different for each of us” written on it. And Wednesday’s conversation with the boulderer (which reminded me in many ways of some other conversations I had in the past few yeas with a couple close friends) really brought home to me this “relativity of courage”.

I have often been told — and I am very often still being told — that I’m “brave” (or “bold”). And I believe it to be true, I see or feel it as a defining characteristic of me. But now I also see more clearly that “brave is relative” and maybe another way of describing this trait of my character (or my way of going about life) is that I “feel more comfortable than average with danger/risk”. At the end of the day, what I saw more clearly from that conversation on Wednesday is that I can get very close to, and tolerate, dangerous or risky situations, probably more than average — for better or for worse. And this holds in most realms of my life, whether it’s interpersonal relationships, personal hardship, physical activities, or fun adventures. 

I realize that danger or risk is actually what often makes me feel alive. In a sense, maybe that’s my “drug of choice”… 

Yet I’m not fool-hardy: whether it’s survival instinct, self-love, or simple knowledge of how I function, I also plan my escape routes and safety nets pretty well (or as well as I can) around the risks I take. On Wednesday, for instance, I filled my day with activities that gave me joy, to help ground and boost me before that conversation; then, I rode my motorcycle to the meeting with the boulderer, which I know always helps to get me in “my Zen place”; and I had already planned to get together with one of my closest guy friends for dinner after that meeting, which was a great way of processing the whole thing immediately afterwards. 

And now that I am totally unburdened from this situation, at last, I know that my next step will be to get out into the world to socialize more, because that’s what I need now. I am working and exercising and climbing in pleasant company and making nice connections with new “climbing buddies”, but I know I also need something more — or different. I would also like to have — as icing on my cake — closer, sexual/romantic relationships with persons who are “emotionally available”, and I probably won’t find those unless I push myself out of my “work/workout comfort zone”… 

So I guess that’s what courage is to me at the moment — and what I need to do next: push myself out of that comfort zone of mine to go and meet and connect deeply with “emotionally available” persons, and let them in under my armor of muscle and intellect… 

I did it! I had that long-needed conversation with the boulderer! And it’s such a relief — a triple relief! First of all, because I was in such a good place myself so I could actually have that conversation in the first place (which I hadn’t been until now and that’s mainly why I had been postponing). Secondly, because it was just such a load off my chest, so good to get it out of my system, to find my voice and make myself heard. And lastly, because the outcome was better than what I had expected. 

For once, I didn’t really have any expectations from the other person — that’s another reason why it was so good for me to go into that conversation yesterday and no sooner. I firmly believe that I would have been fine no matter what the outcome of that conversation had been. But it was better than what I might have expected because it gave me so much: on top of the sense of liberation and relief stemming from just saying what I felt and wanted to say, I was also being actually seen and heard by the other person, so it made it even easier and more satisfying and healing to say what I wanted to say — and I was really able to say it all, to say everything I had hoped to say and even a little more (in a good sense). 

And I received even more from yesterday’s conversation: I received affirmations about myself & my identity; confirmation that many of the things I had imagined or guessed were correct (so I wasn’t hallucinating!); confirmations that the boulderer & I resonate also on the important (to me) topic of the misleading of fixed/assumed sex-/gender-roles; the opportunity to finally talk in a totally unfiltered way with this person; and last but not at all least, now I know this person truly gets me and values my friendship and enjoys hanging out with me, because they told me so explicitly in what really was a heart-to-heart conversation.

And finally, I think I brought home some even deeper messages from yesterday’s conversation with the boulderer. On the one hand, the confirmation that we both trigger or remind each other of past familiar situations and in that sense this weird relationship, no matter how confusing and frustrating it has been at times, has served me to better understand and heal some of my old family wounds/relationship patterns and overcome them. On the other hand, a profound realization of how courage is different for different people. 

I’ll write more about this last point later — for now I’ll just leave it at that and revel in this wonderful (and I believe well-deserved) relief, with the conviction that this experience has been totally worth every minute of it!

Tuesdays are, for the moment, my double-workout days: last Tuesday I went for a 30-min run and then rope-climbed at the gym for a couple hours with my new buddies from the Lead climbing course; yesterday, I swam a couple km and then did some rope-climbing with the same buddies again. And today, just like last Wednesday, I woke up feeling happy and strong and full of energy! 

Today, I’m particularly happy because yesterday evening at the gym I passed my Lead climbing test at the first trial, so now I’m fully ready to lead climb (when the protection is already placed for me) — yay! It’s a further step in my growth and “coming into myself” as a climber, as well as an athlete and person in general. Passing the Lead climbing test last night was also a further affirmation of my androgynous identity, partly because it confirmed my physical strength, but partly because of the interactions with my lead climbing buddies as well. All three of them are just so nice. We have bonded nicely as a small group, and my not being a man isn’t affecting the group dynamics or their behavior toward me in any way: they act just as buddies towards me as among each other — which I love! 

I also love how we have a weekly “group climbing date” on Tuesday evenings: I like the fact that we’re all committed to this and accountable. 

Two of them had already passed the Lead climbing test last week and they were super helpful, encouraging and patient with my pre-test anxious-performance mode yesterday: they top-roped with me so that I could warm up; they practiced and reviewed with me, and gave me tips for the test without being patronizing. And they were there, supporting me during my test, and then sharing my overflowing enthusiasm and joy when I passed it. The feeling I have with them is that they accept and like me as I am, with all my quirks — and that feels pretty good, especially with persons who are still relatively strangers — or maybe that’s why they can still put up with me?! 

One funny (and to me endearing) example has to do with “announced falls” that are part of the Lead climbing course & test. When we took the course a couple weeks ago, I just couldn’t help myself and screamed every time I took an announced fall: I wasn’t scared but the adrenaline rush I got from it every time was just so powerful — fun and thrilling — that I couldn’t avoid screaming (unless I really focused and thought to myself, “be quiet now!”). During the course, I told my climbing partners and instructor not to worry, that I was totally fine, that it was just an instinctive reaction and that I was enjoying myself, and I apologized a priori; and they were totally fine with it. But when I took the Lead climbing test last night, I was concerned that they might fail me if I screamed on the announced fall, so when it was time to perform this, I really really focused and fell without emitting a sound. At the end of the test, back on the ground with my buddies, one of them said to me with a smile, “I missed your fun scream on that announced fall!”; so I told him about my concern, that I thought I needed to control that instinct in order to pass the test, and he replied, “Oh no, I’m sure they would just have taken it as an extra bit of style and personality!” I just loved the genuine, fun, kind sincerity of his comments; the feeling I got was that he accepts me and finds me fun just as I am, and that’s a wonderful feeling. 

So, once again, I’m grateful for these nice persons I’m finding and bonding with along my path — while also a little scared, as always, that these nice feelings/situations might end…    

This past weekend was also very empowering for me, for smaller reasons as well as deeper ones. 

Lots of small things contributed to this feeling of empowerment: grilling dinner for my cousins & me; organizing the outing to go see the Perseid shower (my cousins relied on me since they’re new in the area); being firm, while also polite, with someone who had to free my apartment of their furniture; assembling and arranging my new desk and home-office workspace on my own (something that would definitely have been easier with another pair of hands/arms!). Each of these were small instances, per se, but they all added up to a sense of “being able” to do things, on the one hand, as well as to have resonance with other persons who go along with the plans. After so many instances of having to do things (including having fun) on my own because other people are uninterested, unavailable or unaccountable, it’s great to finally be doing things with other persons who also enjoy those things, to share the fun! To me it feels empowering and satisfying in a sweet way to see that my suggestions are accepted, welcomed, and enjoyed by others, too.

And this seems to be the case with climbing now, as well — which is also one of the deeper reasons for my feeling of empowerment from this weekend (and recently, in general). This coming into “my climber self” seems to be continuing: my physical strength and my skills are still growing and thus my confidence, too. And even my creativity, especially when climbing outdoors: I still have a lot to improve on technique but it is getting better and particularly when climbing outdoors I find myself doing moves that are pretty technical without being aware of it at the moment — either I realize it later or, more often, my climbing partners notice and tell me about it.

I think that was is fueling me is a sort of fire inside me. Whether it’s clinical anxiety or simply a high level of life energy or enthusiasm, I don’t know. But when I find good ways of channeling it, it’s really wonderful — empowering, energetic, efficient. 

I’m often being described as “full of energy”, “passionate”, and even “fiery”. One of my climbing buddies on Sunday mentioned how “fiery” I am. And it was such a serendipitously appropriate comment because just a short while earlier, as I was working on the tricky crux of this 5.11b climb outdoors at the end of our full morning of climbing, I made a move that felt to me way beyond my level, especially from the viewpoint of technique, like I was stretching my skills and pushing my boundaries in a way that I noticed even as I was doing it and which was surprising to me. Usually when I climb I’m so much “in the flow” that I have no space for outside thoughts (which is one of the reasons I love climbing so much): but in that moment, as I made that move way beyond what I expected of myself, I distinctly thought, “Here’s that fire in me, fueling me to do this — this is why I like rock climbing so much: because it allows me to channel this fire in me in a healthy, satisfying, fun way”.

Rock climbing, especially outdoors, gives me a means of satisfying that need I have deep inside me to push myself, and it truly allows me to do it in a way that is healthy and fun. It really allows me to kindle and quench that fire inside me without extinguishing it — in a similar way to how sailing and motorcycle riding do — maybe because all these activities involve some serious risk when doing them. And they’re also all activities that are still mostly male-dominated, where I’m still often in the minority — something I don’t really mind, on the contrary, for me it’s a way of affirming my androgynous identity. As I belayed my climbing buddy outdoors on Sunday, without the extra weight-reduction that comes from the special rope setups one finds in gyms, I felt all the responsibility, risk, satisfaction and empowerment of the moment: I was lead belaying, i.e. “keeping alive” as my buddy put it, a person who weighs 1.5 times myself. It was extremely satisfying for me to see that I had both the physical strength and the mental steadiness to do it; but even more satisfying because it was a shared experience, an important moment of mutual trust and bonding.

Kindling and quenching this fire within me not just for myself, not always on my own, but together with persons who share a common interest or passion with me (and who aren’t flaky!) — the fact that this fire inside me, at least with some people, isn’t driving them away from me — maybe this is what makes this fire inside me even more valuable to me. 

I had a lovely weekend, both healing and empowering [I will mostly write about the healing part here — the empowering part in another post]. 

One of my cousins from the East Coast (who is also one of my best friends) has very recently moved to California and now, after having lived all our lives on different continents or opposite coasts, we live just an hour’s drive away from each other. In one week, I have already visited her three times, and it’s been wonderful! 

My cousin/friend is a few years older than me and a single mother of two daughters, a 14-year-old, and a 9-year-old, who are almost opposites from each other. Apart from our different choices with respect to motherhood, my cousin and I are very similar, we resonate in many ways, and share many worldviews or approaches to life. She and her two girls are one of my “chosen families”. 

On Friday evening I got to their place — which is still mostly empty from their recent move — after a satisfying day’s work and an easy run, and looking forward to a guaranteed weekend of fun, affection, and sunshine. 

After going out for dinner and hearing some live music in downtown, we headed out of the city to see the shooting stars (Friday was supposed to be the last night of the best days for the Perseid showers): it was late, way past the younger daughter’s bedtime, but we were all so excited! And we weren’t disappointed: we saw a bunch of gorgeous Perseids and one specifically amazing one — huge and sooooooo long, its tail changing colors along the way from green to red to purple… the most fantastic shooting star I had ever seen in my life! But a lot of the excitement and enjoyment of the moment came to me from laying there on blankets on the ground, looking up at the sky with my young cousins who are like nieces or daughters to me, sharing the girls’ excitement and feeling their attachment to me. 

Saturday was a lovely, easy, relaxing day: we all slept in, had a late breakfast, walked to a coffee shop for late snack/light brunch, and finally headed to the outdoor pool where I got the workout I wanted (and needed!) and then relaxed with my cousins drying in the warm sunshine (which I don’t usually get where I live, just one hour north, at this time of year!), jumping off the diving-board with my playful youngest cousin, and having some nice heart-to-heart conversations with my cousin/friend. 

Back at home on Saturday evening, dinner and other “normal” parts of family life felt so easy and spontaneous: snacking and taking turns for showers after the pool, grocery shopping, each one of us chilling for a little of our own personal “down-time”, preparing dinner, and finally eating all together. 

I truly enjoyed preparing dinner for all of us. My cousin/friend set the grill going in the backyard but then left me in charge of grilling the food — which I had never done on my own — believe it or not! I really enjoyed the responsibility of grilling, checking on the food so it wouldn’t burn; but I also truly loved doing it for other people besides myself: I was grilling for my cousins, for one of my closest “chosen families”, and with the enthusiastic help of my little 9-year-old cousin. 

And after dinner came the icing on the cake for me: as we all sat in the backyard relaxing, my cousin/friend was tired and needed some time for herself, while her younger, very extroverted daughter was stil hyper and her teenage, more introverted daughter needed some pulling out of her shell. So I somehow, very naturally and spontaneously took both girls into my arms, the younger one literally, the older one figuratively: the three of us sat close to each other under the evening sky and shadows of redwood trees (which are still new to these girls), as I let them talk in turns, and helped them make themselves s’mores. 

I know I was helping my cousin/friend get a break she very much needed; and I know I was also giving the girls affection and attention from a different “adult source” which is at once a cousin, a sort of auntie, and in some ways a buddy. But I was also healing myself, healing my heart; it was a wonderful balm for my loneliness, for my old “family scars”, for my longing of little bits of “family time” (which I need now and then). And for all this, I am extremely grateful.

I definitely found all the warmth I had set out to find this weekend — and got way more than the wish I made with that amazing shooting star!

Yesterday evening Arys went climbing with their new buddies from the “Lead Climbing” class. 

Last week it was very cold when they took the class together, so Arys bundled up in two or three layers of long-sleeved T-shirts throughout the course. Yesterday, instead, the weather was warm again, so Arys wore one of their usual sleeveless tank-tops-sports-bra that are most comfortable for them to climb. And as Arys approached the climbing buddies, one of them exclaimed, “Wow, I hadn’t noticed how strong you are… you’ve really got some guns!”, and jokingly added, “I wouldn’t want to get into a fight with you”! 

His comment really pleased Arys, for several reasons. 

Firstly, and very importantly, because it was so spontaneous, buddy-like, seeped in camaraderie and genuine admiration; there was nothing inappropriate or objectifying or sexual/flirtatious or patronizing about it (which has been Arys’s experience sometimes): this guy was simply making a spontaneous, almost child-like, comment on a fellow climber. 

Then, there’s the deeper reasons connected to Arys’s identity and history. 

On the one hand, in general, Arys like their physical strength to be seen and acknowledged, especially since they are slender (they definitely wouldn’t want to get into a fight with anyone!) and growing up they had to battle against the idea of “thin and ‘princess-like’ is beautiful”. Plus, recognition of their physical strength from men adds to the gratification they feel because of their androgynous gender identity.

On the other hand, comments like that one from their climbing buddy last night are a particular relief to Arys now because of their COVID-19 experience. 

In March 2020, Arys was very sick with COVID-19. 

They have been an athlete (albeit not professionally) their whole life and at the end of February 2020 had won second place on their first long race on trails, running 14 miles over 3,300 feet elevation gain in 2 hours and 20 minutes, finishing just a few minutes behind the first woman. They were strong, fit, healthy. A few weeks later, they were flat on their back, struggling with a severe bout of COVID-19. Fortunately, they didn’t get pneumonia and weren’t hospitalized, but they were sick for weeks and — maybe even worse — it took them months and months and months to recover, to get anywhere close to ‘normal’, to their ‘pre-COVID’ fitness. And probably only now are they really back to their ‘pre-COVID’ levels — greatly thanks to their trip this summer and the wonderful (and healing) activities they did. 

Over a year to recover, over a year of not seeing, not feeling their body as they used to. That’s a long time. It was hard. 

Arys remember this one particular instance, in April 2021, when they went bouldering outdoors again for the first time in over a year with a couple of buddies when they were all fully vaccinated at last: Arys felt so weak and disconnected from their body, as if their body — their quads, their core, their arms — weren’t responding, as if their body weren’t really there. Arys went home and cried some very bitter tears. 

Fortunately, things started feeling better for them in May, but often there was still fatigue, or a lower-than-usual energy level for them when exercising and after workouts. Arys’s body still felt sluggish and didn’t look (and truly wasn’t) as strong as it used to be. It seems that things really turned around during their trip this summer, with all that hiking and trail running and outdoor climbing (at elevation!). And for the moment, they’ve been able to keep it up back at home, too — for which they’re really grateful. It just feels so good — and almost unbelievable — to have that strength and energy back, like it’s fully them back in their skin, back in their body again, at last! 

Arys know that, as Rainer Maria Rilke said, “No feeling is final”. 

Arys know they won’t have this body, this strength forever. But as Rilke also wrote, “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going.” Arys are going to keep going, and after all the terror they have experienced, they will now revel a bit in this beauty.