In climbing, we belay, tie ourselves to each other. We take turns as the lead. We support and encourage. There are moments of pure panic, awe, ache, and accomplishment.  

We savor these memories. The scars that hold our stories. The memory of the adventure imprints us, defines our way of being. We are proud of the peaks we mustered through, forgetting the pain we had to work through to get to the other side. Those that taught us, that led the way, that held our hands, watched our backs, they, too, hold our stories, our scars, our successes.

What if we could share our fears out loud? What would you tell yourself about crashing? Challenges? Champions? How do you move through the world?

In your struggles, how do you gather your strength and pick yourself back up? Somehow, you still climb. 

If you knew there was a safety net, a magic carpet, a cloud to catch you, what would you be brave enough to do?