I'm at the half-way point of climbing the Dales 30: the mountains of the Yorkshire Dales. What has surprised me is that it isn’t the physical side of things that is the most challenging. It is the mental. I would say I had to talk myself into climbing at least two thirds of these mountains because I felt I should be working rather than playing.

So, rather than a physical challenge, it has turned into a mental challenge in overcoming my deeply engrained work ethic. And it has highlighted exactly how deep in my core this work ethic runs.

As I descended down mountain number 15 last week on Lammas morning, I thought back to the time two decades ago when I stopped climbing mountains. I had a professional career working for a corporation as a senior manager. It was a stressful time. Year after year, the workload increased. I was prioritising work above all else and thought that was how it should be, had to be. The consequences of this were taking their toll, primarily on my health.

Back then, like now I loved trekking and would regularly take 2-3 day hikes through the mountains in the Peak District, Lake District and Scotland. Then, bam, I had to stop. I was on a weekend trek close to home and I couldn’t bear it any longer. I had a problem with my feet and it felt like I was walking on burning coals. I called a taxi to pick me up and that was the last time I walked more than 90 minutes for over a decade.

Months before, I had gone to the doctors. They referred me to a specialist, and I was on a long waiting list. This wasn’t just any specialist though: they were reputedly the best podiatrist in the area. I had seen other podiatrists privately, been put on treadmills and photos taken of my misaligned feet and ankles as I walked. I’d had plaster moulds taken of my feet and numerous special insoles made. Nothing had worked.

It all hinged on seeing this particular podiatrist. He was going to be my saviour. I waited six months for the appointment.

Then, guess what? The week came, and I decided I was too busy to go. I had been called down to London for work on the day of my appointment. I put work first. After all, shouldn’t work always come before everything else?  I called and cancelled the appointment.

That was it. It was another ten years before I sought out another podiatrist. Instead, I told myself that the problem wasn’t fixable.

I put work before my health and happiness, and one of the things that brought me the most joy: trekking.

Priorities 

Does this sound familiar? Do you put other people’s needs before your own? Do you respond to demands rather than prioritise your health? Do you put work at the top of the list and your joy further down, perhaps even at the bottom?

I know I am not alone in this. I believe it is spiritual work to nail this and follow what our soul truly wants us to do.

In recent years, I have found that when I am brave enough to put myself first, the ‘worst’ doesn’t happen. In fact, it is the opposite: life gets a whole lot easier.

But, it is really, really, really hard to do.

It is really hard to switch off the programming that we need to put others needs before our own.

It is really hard to switch off that programming to prioritise work above all else. Work must come first. We are taught this from age five when we are sent to school. It is all about time, productivity, effectiveness and 'the job'.

Those of you who have read my blogs or the book The Path to Forgotten Freedom know that this isn’t a new concept I have been working with.

It is my thing to overcome, and I have made massive inroads.

For example, I walked out on that stressful corporate career one day. I firmly closed the door and burnt the bridges so I would struggle to go back. I set off on the path less travelled. I began working full-time as a shamanic practitioner. It was a nail-biting time with financial uncertainty. At the beginning of each month, we didn't know if we were going to be able to pay all the bills and get to the end of the month OK.  But, it was so much easier than working in that career, despite the financial stresses and uncertainty, because I was finally doing what I was meant to be doing.

So, I had cracked finding fulfilling and inspiring work. However, for the last ten years I have been struggling on the play side of things. Again, I know I am not alone in this. Many of us are struggling to shut down the computer, turn off the phone, get off social media, stop checking emails, put away that to do list and just play.

It is social conditioning. We have been programmed to work and not play. And it is ramping up.

Balance

So, what has changed for me recently? And how did it happen?

Rewind to last autumn, and we were approaching the equinox. The equinoxes are a time of balance when the sun rises and sets exactly twelve hours apart. So, they are a good time to pause and reflect on what is out of kilter in our lives.

Jason and I always make a point of stopping at the autumn equinox, but it is not always that easy to do. There is usually a lot going on mid-September and this year was no exception. We were running a retreat weekend to Cumbria, an online retreat and also preparing to close our Mystery School doors.

Nevertheless, we took the day off and drove to Sedburgh, England’s national book town. As we immersed ourselves in the bookshops, I was drawn to a book: ‘The Dales 30’. I love the Yorkshire Dales national park. We live 15 minutes away from it now up here in north Lancashire, but I had no idea there were thirty mountains. The mountains Ingleborough, Pen-y-Ghent, and Whernside are well known, and I was aware of a couple more. But thirty? I wanted to climb them all.

I sat with that dream for three months before really voicing it to anyone but Jason. I wondered if it would be possible. A few things were holding me back. One was my foot problem. I had fixed the issue a few years before by discovering barefoot shoes. I no longer have foot pain, but I do have weak ankles. After a long walk, I need to put them on ice for a few days to reduce the inflammation. So, I wasn’t sure how I would fare with climbing so many mountains.

The other thing, and this was the biggie, was time. Would I have time to do this?

After three months I decided to give it a go and spoke to a few people. One of the responses I was met with was ‘have you got time Nicola?’ There it is again: have you got time to do the thing that you really want to do, that will bring you such joy? You must put work before play.

Hearing this doubt out loud from someone else had the opposite impact on me. It set inside me a determination that - balls to it - yes, I have. I am going to do this!

I climbed the first mountain on my 47th birthday, Whernside, just a few days before Imbolc. I had one year to complete the other 29.

On that day I made it official. I gave myself permission to put play before work.

Synchronicity

Something else significant happened during the autumn equinox. It was a week before our Woodland Wanderings online retreat, and I reflected on something I had set myself to do that year but hadn’t managed: a daily yoga and meditation practice.

In the run-up to our retreat, I decided just for that week that I would go upstairs every morning before I got dressed and do fifteen minutes of restorative yoga. I subscribed to a yoga app and set it to a gentle restorative yoga practice. I told myself, whatever the internal chatter in my head, regardless, I would go upstairs and do it this every morning.

I managed the first week, but it was so hard. The internal dialogue was the same every morning. I was surprised that is wasn't 'I can't be bothered'. It was 'I must start work. Don’t do this. I am wasting time”.

The second week was the same. I didn’t miss a day of yoga, but every day, the dialogue in my head was: 'Don't do this, Nicola; you need to start work'. 

And same in the third week.

Then, after almost a month, the chatter finally quieted down.

During those yoga sessions, as I became more aware of my body, my mind flipped to the idea of getting a sports massage. So, I booked in, but as it happens, the receptionist booked me with the wrong person, and I ended up with a physiotherapist.

Everything changed from that moment.

The physiotherapist gave me exercises, and because I was doing yoga, I just added these on and did them daily. Eleven months on, I am still doing them every day, working on all my problem areas: my ankles, back, neck, and hips.

Now I don’t have any physical problems holding me back. None whatsoever.

Stepping up

When I embarked on my 'Dales 30' challenge earlier this year, I thought I would walk all the mountains with Jason. We did the first five together. Then he hurt his back falling into a skip, and an old knee injury flared up.  I had lost my walking buddy, and to add to this, I had a stressful period in the spring, and my energy for walking dwindled. It got to June, and I still had ten mountains to walk before the beginning of August if I was to keep on track. I almost dropped the challenge.

The summer solstice was approaching, and traditionally this is a time when our ancestors would get up onto high ground to celebrate. So, I decided to use the solstice energy of power and courage to face one of my fears: climbing a mountain alone. I chose a popular walk up Pen-y-Ghent but took a detour to tick off another mountain on the same day. It was up that second mountain, Plover Hill, that I discovered that I love the solace of solo trekking rather than being afraid. I didn’t see anyone for over two hours. I was hooked.

It was Lammas last week, the old Celtic fire festival that falls between the summer solstice and autumn equinox. It is a time of celebration and one of my favourite turns in the wheel of the year. So, I decided to take it up another notch and do something I have wanted to do for a long time: go on an overnight trek. I had many reasons why I didn’t think I could do it. Fitness was one, and, yes, you have guessed it, time was another.

I camped in a field near Kettlewell and rose early the next morning for a day's trek to Buckden in Upper Wharfedale. This is one of the most beautiful dales.

The Yorkshire Dales has a piece of me. It is my heartland. This landscape drew me to living up north and leaving Kent when I was 18. This land pulls me in and inspires me, and I hold a special place for it in my heart. Much of it feels sacred to me. Being up high, and taking in the everchanging views is a treat and one I am sure I will never tire of. And the Yorkshire Dales are less popular than the nearby Lake District. So, it is quiet up in these mountains. On some days I might not see anyone for over four hours. I have had at least six of them entirely to myself. In those moments, they are ‘my mountains’.

The bell

It was a poignant moment when I descended from that fifteenth mountain into the village of Kettlewell at the end of my two-day trek.

As it was forecast to be a hot day, I got up at 5am to climb Birk Fell. Atfer a glorious walk in the clouds over a long ridge, I dropped down into the valley. Then, walking over the hump-backed bridge into the village, I heard the church clock chime. It was 9 am.

The synchronicity of that 9 o’clock chime as I completed mountain number 15 on Lammas morning held great significance for me.

I reflected that there hasn’t been a single climb that I have undertaken on a weekday where I haven’t had the mantra and battle in my head that I can’t do it, that I shouldn’t take time out, that I need to work. Honestly.

Even on this trip, where I was ticking off three mountains to bring me to the halfway point, I was battling until 8 p.m. the night before I set off. Shall I? Shan’t I? Can I? Can’t I? Fortunately, I have Jason encouraging me and helping me address all the reasons why not, which are all work-related.

I am governed by the bell. I was taught at school the importance of responding to it. If I wasn’t at school by 9am I got into trouble. I needed to sit still and listen until I heard the bell telling me it was OK to go and play for thirty minutes at break time or an hour at lunchtime. When I started work as a teenager, it was imperative that I was punctual. And in the first five years of my professional career as an environmental consultant, I had to record what I did in every 15-minute block of my day.

After working for myself for well over a decade, I am still governed by that 9 am start. If I am not at my desk by 9 am, I still get anxious that I am doing something wrong. It is as if eyes from an imaginary boss are piercing across at me, angry that I am late.

I have these feelings and beliefs. The Dales 30 challenge is bringing them more fully into my consciousness.

Maybe one day they will stop.

As I said already, I am not alone in this. It is the way I have been programmed. If you have made it to the end of this blog then this story resonated with you too: you may have been programmed to.

A quote from George Orwell comes to mind. This poignant passage was taken from a notebook found by his bed at his death:

"It is now 16 years since my first book was published, and about 21 years since I started publishing articles in the magazines. There has literally not been one day in which I did not feel I was idling, that I was behind with the current job, and that my total output was miserably small. Even at the periods I was working ten hours a day on a book or writing five articles a week, I have never been able to get away from this neurotic feeling that I was wasting time."

The spiritual work is undoing this programming so we can live our best lives doing the things that bring us the most joy.

Creating rainbows

Over this past week, I have seen three Hares. In our Mystery school, the underlying energy of Hare is freedom.

Hare came to me in a shamanic journey when I was in my final months working for corporations. Hare led me to stick up for myself and ultimately not tolerate working in that environment any more. I closed my consultancy.

Hare led me to a new phase of freedom back then. Perhaps Hare is leading me to the next level now: a freedom within myself and my psyche.

I saw the third hare as I was climbing my eleventh mountain, Dodd Hill, early in the morning. I had arisen at sunrise and headed up the Pennine bridleway from Hawes, a village best known for Wensleydale cheese. It was a misty morning, and the Hare was resting on the path in the soft morning glow.

As I ascended, the sun was never more than a few feet above my shoulder. It was surreal walking with the clouds below me. Then on my right I saw a rainbow. It struck me as odd as I had never seen one in that shape before. It was a small circle in the mist alongside me. As I walked, it stayed next to me. Then, after a few minutes, I figured out what was going on.

I had created a rainbow.

It is called a Brocken Spectre and is badged as a mysterious atmospheric phenomenon. I had never heard of it before. It is rare and happens when a person's shadow is cast upon a cloud or fog bank below, creating a magnified and distorted image surrounded by a halo of colours.

So, as the sun rose on my left, never more than shoulder height, it created a rainbow in the mist from my shadow. It stayed with me for more than ten minutes. This was an ethereal experience. Otherworldy.

And I was entirely alone for hours in this landscape, wandering around in the misty mountains whilst the rest of Yorkshire slept. I literally bounced my way down.

Next up

I am now looking ahead to the next six months and fifteen mountains. I have my sights on taking things up another level. I used to carry my camping kit across the mountains in my twenties, so I want to do this again. I have concerns about being strong enough to carry everything and still enjoy the trek, so I have just bought some ultralight camping equipment.

I also have concerns about finding time for these longer trips, as I am also carrying out my ancestor sleepout project this year, where I am sleeping in the locations where my seventh-generation ancestors lived around England and noting down my dreams.

But one thing I have discovered about time is that it is possible to create time. This mountain challenge has led me to be more disciplined and therefore more effective when I am working. I have read books recently to learn how my mind can be so easily distracted and what to do to minimise this. It is working, and I will share more about this over the coming months.

Whatever emerges over this second half of the Dales 30, I know it will hold significance. As I come to the end of writing this blog, a Wren has just landed on my foot. Yes, a Wren: the shyest of birds resting on my foot.

In the Mystery School, Wren's underlying message is ‘self-expression’. Maybe this mountain challenge is more than a physical and mental challenge. It is an opportunity for me to dial down that work ethic once and for all and fully express myself through the things that bring me the most joy. After all, isn’t that what our soul most wants for us: joy?

Resources

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