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I want to share a story with you today about hills. Yes, you read that correctly – HILLS.
I hate them. And the irony of moving to my valley town and buying a house on a hill is not lost on me.
It doesn’t matter the size of the hill – it could be a steep mountain or a gentle incline – I will still hate the hill.
My loathing of hills was cemented during my backpacking adventures. Before we left, I trained for months with a backpack on the streets of Sydney, confident I could tackle any hill. Mac was the half-pack-a-day smoker who would rather game than exercise.
On our first day travelling, my first clue that hills would become my mortal enemy was when we jumped off the bus to walk to our hostel. In front of me were eleventy-thousand stairs we had to climb up.
Nevertheless, I had trained. I was prepared. So I hoisted up my backpack and started marching up the stairs, confident I would be at the hostel shortly.
I hadn’t made it five minutes before I was rethinking my ‘travel the world and have fun’ decision. Sweat dripped off me, my backpack felt a thousand pounds, I couldn’t catch my breath, and Mac had seemingly sprinted up the stairs disappearing up the mountain.
Ten minutes later, he reappears to find me halfway up, having a panic attack and ugly crying about my stupid decision to go backpacking and who booked this hostel on a stupid freaking mountain. (Spoiler – it was me)
Not three weeks later, we were in Napoli to see Mount Vesuvius. The mountain in Hong Kong was still a vivid memory, but I was super fit, and this time I didn’t have my backpack and it wasn’t humid. This volcano would be fine.
(Another spoiler – it was not fine!)
Before I hit the first bend, Mac had powered ahead, shouting behind him occasionally, ‘Hurry up slow poke’. My bloody smoking and gaming partner raced up the hill like a goat.
When I reached the top, he casually asked me where I had been and then starts to walk back down the volcano, saying “I am not paying thirty euros to look at back soot and smoke – that’s a bloody rip-off, let’s go back.”
I freaking hate hills and will go to extreme lengths to avoid them, walking twenty minutes out of my way to find smaller, gentler hills.
The only time I have ever enjoyed bike riding was in Holland – because it is mostly flat, and hiking the Machu Picchu trail is my idea of hell – I will catch the bus and meet you there.
Even my every day walks are plotted around hill size and steepness – I can’t avoid them all, unfortunately.
But earlier this year, I was walking up a hill….OK, it wasn’t a hill, more of a gentle incline, that every morning I would begrudgingly walk up, hating every moment. But on this day, I had been listening to a podcast about mantras and their power.
So I thought to myself, let’s try the theory out – what if instead of telling myself how much I hate this freaking hill incline, I tell myself this: Hills are great – they make me strong!
The first day I tried it, I gritted my teeth, pumped my arms and started up the incline chanting: Hills are great, they make me strong, hills are great – they make me strong.
If you are reminded of that epic scene in ‘Are you there God, it’s me Margret’, when they pump their arms chanting – I must, I must increase my bust, to grow bigger boobs – you are not alone.
For the last three(ish) months, I have pumped my arms and chanted – hills are great – they make me strong. Hills are great – they make me strong. Sometimes I sing it. Sometimes I add lots of sweary words.
So what do hills have to do with art and life? Today I had an aha moment and realised while walking up my hill, a very interesting change has occurred.
It isn’t a complete mind shift – I am not joyously skipping up hills, but I am also not hating every minute I walk up my baby hill.
I am not sighing when I start my incline, nor am I irritated that the hill has interrupted my walk.
And that had me thinking, where else could I apply a ‘hill’ mantra in my everyday life?
With my oracle series of paintings, it can be really hard to start my sketches and choose which oracle to paint and often I sit there for an hour erasing, sketching, erasing and sketching again. So I think I will use the mantra ‘in perfect love and perfect trust’ and let the sketch flow from there.
For markets, when I feel my introvert rise, making me want to disengage, I have decided to use the mantra ‘connections light me up’.
When I have to do something I hate doing (like calling a contractor to find out when they are coming back to finish the damn job!) I will use ‘ten seconds of bravery’.
And when I am doubting myself, wondering if I should find another job, wondering if I will ever move forward, I will use the words… well, I am not sure what words to use – yet.
I am also curious – do you have any little chants or mantras that help you? What do you say when you need a little boost? Or is there an area in your life that could use a little boost – what will you say?
And if you have any wise words I could use for my evil empress unleashes the self-doubt hit comment and let me know.
