speeding deep
inspired eyes
lacking sleep
hands touch cold
the water's hair
fingers bathe
in river's dare
beating chest
chest that knows
leading to
the path that goes
The current swells
and rushes forth
adventure lends
to inner north.
Nature's course
teaching winter
God's resource
Death to all
that doesn't serve
inviting in
my faith's reserve
rushing forward
pressures gone
pressures gone
climb on seeker,
climb on soul is cracked
feet are stuck
fire burning
feeling fucked
Tensions mount
when voices yell
keeping safe
from craggy hell
grasping nothing,
scrambling on
pushing fears
till fears are none
Division closes
the crack is gone.
climb on seeker,
climb on.
swaying smooth
in hammock's breast
two souls share
a moment's best
gentle soul
that is become
steady stay
the peaceful hum
with leaden feet
the heart will lead
with heavy beat.
aching soul
now quiet, calm
climb on seekers,
climb on.
Unknown moments
of lasting gift
loving presence
passion's shift
Bluest eye,
unfading light
pulling close
in freezing night
Looping dreams
in shifting wind
breeding lies
to see and rescind.
In grateful rest
in spirit's dawn
no hesitation
climb on.
naked truth
bare to lake
prayers of bliss
in ripple's wake
easing arms
round pastel sky
love expands
to lover's high
treetops point
and roots do stretch
ideas abound
to coax and catch
cold creeps in,
from fading day
hearts are calm
hearts that stay
water streaks
with worry gone
climb on seeker,
climb on.
JESS COFFMAN
"Climb On," was written after a beautiful 24 hour adventure camping and hiking in the Sierras. Grant and I discovered a trail, were enamored by the rushing Consumes River and then rock climbed right next to it, on the crags of the Consumes River Gorge. It was an epic day. Inspiration and emotion ran through me, like the healing and intense river waters. After our day of climbing, Grant strung up a hammock between two trees, so we could rest and enjoy the sound of the water and dipping sunlight on the landscape. It was definitely one of my favorite moments with him.
As the sun began to descend further, Grant began to pack up and I received a glorious 40 minutes or so of an expanded mind and heart, and inspired writing time. In those periods of time, I HAVE to write, no matter what. This why I always carry a notebook, for the unknown moments when inspiration creeps in, and surprises me. I never want to find myself un-penned, or unprepared. There have been times when my phone has died and I was without my notebook, when inspiration knocked on my soul. I have written on napkins and receipts, to keep an idea from escaping me. But, there have been a few devastating times when I was unable to write down the inspirations gifted to me, and they escaped me, forever. If you know me at all, you know that my long-term memory is non-existent. This is why I write, to capture the smallest details of vision and emotion, because otherwise I WILL completely forget my life. I also write mainly, with the intention and hope, that my words will be the words that someone else has been struggling to collect and convey. My greatest joy is when someone tells me, that my words have inspired them, or that I wrote something that made them feel understood, in community, or less alone in their emotions or thoughts. I am honored when that happens.
Back to our epic day...as the sun is further setting, Grant recommends that we hike back to the car before it gets too dark. Right as I get up from our hammock paradise, inspiration hits me hard, and I start voraciously writing a poem in my notebook. My attention is now divided between the ground and rocks I was hiking over, and my pen on the page. There was also no trail, I might add. I'm not sure how I didn't fall at any point, being that I was writing the entire time, I was also climbing over huge rocks. I finished it silently in the car, while Grant drove us, most likely listening to "Thievery Corporation" radio on Pandora. He is always supportive, when I need to simultaneously "check out" in order to write, but also take it in absolutely everything around me.
I could say that the day started with me "going down to the river to pray"naked, and that the day ended with him winning a Cribbage game in a towny bar...both may or may not be true. But what is true, is that I learned a valuable lesson about myself while climbing that day. I was climbing "Struggler Cliff," and I knew that Grant had me safely because he was belaying me from below. I could have fallen or chosen to stop and he would have caught or held me. I also knew that I was physically strong enough to get myself to the top of the crag safely. But, I had a few stressful moments, when I couldn't move, and I was stuck. I couldn't see where I was going. I couldn't "see" myself to safety. I felt around with slight panic, searching for a place to hold onto, to ascend higher. I went side to side, trying to find a new place to put my hands and feet. The sound of the rushing river, and my height at that point, made it too difficult to hear Grant's suggestions, so all I could hear were my inner thoughts and my pounding heart.
I was fearful. I was ashamed. I was safe, but I hesitated. I was trying, but nothing seemed to work. I was getting physically tired. I was over it.
But, I discovered a forgotten place in my mind and body, where there was no option to fail. I was not going to stop or fall. This powerful, primal energy from my pelvis, propelled me upward. I reached as high as I could, both hands on one small rock hold, with nothing for my feet to stand on. Through gritted teeth, a guttural sound came out of me, and I pulled myself up with my arm muscles. My unsteady feet followed, scrambling up the rock, completely challenging gravity. And then...I climbed up the rest of that rock, with the same tenacity and confidence that I later wrote "Climb On." That moment is exactly what inspired the poem.
In that moment of "climbing on," there was no deliberation. There was almost no choice, I just fucking went for it. I decided that I was not going to fall, or give up, and I chose to stop hesitating. It is a beautiful experience and metaphor, for these periods of time in my life when I'm not actually on "Struggler Cliff," but it sure feels like it. I'm in one right now, in fact. I'm currently going side to side, searching for the perfect, stable holds for my hands and feet, and I can't "see" where I'm going. But the truth is, I have to utilize that strength that waits in the root chakra, like a sleeping bear. I have to awaken it, let it rush through me, pull myself up with my strong and loving arms, and let my feet scramble upward after me. That is the only way up. And I am going to fucking nail this climb today, and rest of the days, until I am am unstuck. But, I'm also going to choose to let the fight sink in, and choose to feel grateful for the struggle and intensity that I feel. I will choose humility and compassion in the presence of others seekers on my climb, and I will encourage them too. At the top, I know there is a hammock in a hot pink sky, suspended between two radically green trees, over an unyielding river. And I will rest, with peace, love, pride, gratitude, humility and inspiration in my heart.
And so will you.
climb on seekers,
climb on.
Your Jess
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