My Tyrolean Traverse

In a time long ago, in South Lake Tahoe, a beautiful resort area, I did a one day ropes course. One of our ventures was the tyrolean traverse – which means dangling parallel from a rope which is stretched between two mountains of similar height, and pulling yourself along the rope from one to the other mountain.

I had observed those in front of me and concluded that the secret to a perfect passage was to get a good push off the mountain. So there I was, hooked to the rope, facing the sky, legs bent for a mighty push. I took a deep breath and pushed out with all my strength. My left foot slipped in the process. I ended up sagging on the rope about a third of the way across, instead of the two-thirds I had planned in my mind. &%*^&%$^%

Realizing I was stranded in mid-air, and that I was going to have to get across the chasm on my own, I began pulling myself upward, hand over hand, to the other side. A little over half-way, I ran plum out of steam – my arms (never my strength) were shaking from exhaustion. The people waiting for me started yelling my name – urging me to keep coming. So I made more effort and moved a few inches closer, struggling ever upward to the top of the mountain. (I am quite positive that my rope had way more slack in it than the one in the picture!)

The people started yelling my name again, encouraging me even more. I had had enough – enough of this experience; enough of their stupid, cheery morale-boosting – so I angrily yelled back, "Just cut the f***ing rope!!!" I was done! I quit, just sagged on the line.

Minutes went by, the stupid/cheery group kept calling my name, shouting stupid/cheery things. I realized they weren't going to stop, they just got louder. DANG! Since they obviously weren't going to cut the rope, I started hesitantly hauling myself upward. The cheery group turned up the volume. I felt heartened.

Somehow my arm muscles strengthened, my backbone got resolved, and when I transitioned to the top of the mountain, people were hugging me, dancing up and down, as if it had been their 'win.' And it was.

My life lesson: Never underestimate the power of encouragement – for the giver and the receiver.