(Yes, I’m a few days behind. As I write this, Winnie and I officially made it Vancouver, Canada for the first time without any issues . . . except for parking the trailer, which I’ll write about later.)

So let me catch you up on the last week (Days 5-6), starting with Mount Rainier National Park on Monday August 1 . . . .

I felt a little giddy driving up the White Pass Scenic byway toward Rainier National Park. I was lost in thought about the hiking I planned to do and how it would feel to see Rainier again, when I came around a curve and gasped. 

BOOM! The massive Mount Rainier popped up out of the Earth and made me gasp. 

“Holy shit . . . I climbed THAT?”  

If you’ve never had the privilege of seeing Mount Rainier, I recommend that you see it at least once. Words fail me in describing this beast and I think that John Muir said it best: “Of all the fire mountains which like beacons, once blazed along the Pacific Coast, Mount Rainier is the noblest.”

I pulled over at a view point to take some photos and marvel at Rainier’s immensity. I ended up talking to a group of women from a hiking club in Idaho who where there to do a 9-mile hike the next day. 

One of the women was older, less than 5-feet tall, with long silver braids, and lots of colors and jewels.  She smiled like she’d just swallowed the secret to infinite joy.

I looked at her and said, “You’re adorable!” Which made her group of friends burst out laughing. Apparently, someone on a hike the previous day had said the same thing to her.

Turns out, she was 82! And boy was she a spitfire! She was all revved up to do the 9-mile hike the next day . . . and given the life story she was telling me, I had no doubt that she’d be leading the pack of women.  

If you’re 82 and doing a 9-mile hike, you’re doing something right with your life. Let’s all hope to be like her now - let alone when we’re 82!

Early that evening, I arrived at the cabin I’d rented in Ashford, just outside the entrance to Rainier. There was a gorgeous, covered wood deck that was bigger than the cabin, complete with lounge chairs, a swing, and a hot tub.  

You know I went full-on James Brown in the hot tub both nites that I stayed there. And by that, I mean buck-necked with nothing but some wine and the quiet. (Don’t worry, there was a privacy fence on the deck).   

The next day I left it up to inspiration to see what hike I would do around Rainier. I was looking forward to just playing on the trails and enjoying the views - something I didn’t get to do the last time I was there. (The last time, I was scared shitless that I was going to die, so I wasn’t too interested in admiring the scenery).

When I pulled into the Park entrance, the Ranger explained that part of the road was closed up ahead so I couldn’t get all the way through to the other side of the park.  I was hoping to do some trails around the Paradise area, so I asked “I can still get to Paradise, right?”  

“Oh yes!” said the Ranger.

Great . . . down the road I went.

As I pulled ahead past the entry gate, that question echoed in my head in me in a way that I hadn’t expected.  

“I can still get to Paradise, right?”  

It brought me - unexpectedly - to tears.

What the hell was going on?

Then it hit me . . .

I realized that it was just shy of four years ago -August 5, 2018 - when I summited Mount Rainer after a 2-day climb.  

I hadn’t realized I was so close to that anniversary.  And I was suddenly filled with gratitude and sentimentality.

That question kept floating in my mind:  

“I can still get to Paradise, right?”  

For those who don’t know, Paradise is the parking lot and visitor center where most people begin their summit climb.  (There also are a ton of other hiking trails in that areas).  

So this question - “I can still get to Paradise, right?” obviously was a logistical one; but, it suddenly had a deeper meaning.

As I thought back over the last four years, I reflected on where I was in my life - emotionally and spiritually - when I set out to climb Mount Rainier.

Back then I was on a different and metaphorical long climb . . . one that would culminate a few months later in me reaching my breaking point after years of depression and anxiety.

As I set out to climb Rainier four years ago, I was terrified. I also had no idea what was in store.

That not only would I reach the summit - more mentally and physically exhausted than I’d ever been - but that I’d also meet a woman who lived in Denver, was a coach, and would end up becoming a good friend.

It was this synchronistic meeting with her - and spending 2.5 days supporting each other during the climb and sharing our life stories - that helped change my life.

It was her story about her life as a coach that inspired me to apply to her same coaching school - iPEC - a few months later.

And then two years later, because of that program and my mindfulness meditation program, I would quit my attorney job in 2021.

My life now, four years after climbing Mount Rainier, looked much different.

But the biggest difference wasn’t in my life circumstances.

The biggest difference is that I’ve started to learn that Paradise isn’t a place you try to get to . . .

it’s a place already within you.

Aren’t we all trying to find our own kind of Paradise?  

Isn’t that what we spend our days working our asses off for . . . thinking that more work, money, or accomplishments will help us find or create Paradise?  

Don’t we all just wish for a little slice of Paradise each day, or maybe even once in our lives? 

Yet, as all of the great spiritual teachers and wisdom traditions remind us, Paradise isn’t a destination or something we can reach with money or accomplishments.  

Heaven, Nirvana . . .whatever you want to call it . . . isn’t a destination.  

No . . . to the contrary . . . Paradise is already within you.  

When we feel that pull to find or create Paradise outside of ourselves, the invitation is to start looking inward instead of outward . . .

to come home to yourself . . .

into yourself . . .

into your body.

Sounds trite and woo-woo, doesn’t it?  

Maybe so . . .

but I think teachers like Jesus and the Buddha were onto something when they advocated for finding the peace, the stillness, the joy, the happiness, the calm . . . the Paradise . . . within ourselves.  

Right here . . . in every single moment.  

I found out this morning that a friend of mine’s young daughter was in a car accident.  She has a broken leg and they had to do surgery for a brain bleed.  

How the hell are you supposed to find Paradise in that kind of situation? 

I have another friend whose son died several years ago at the the age of 19 or so in a hiking accident.  

Again, how do you find the Paradise within in the face of that kind of tragedy?

Where was the Paradise within when my mom died suddenly from a heart attacks 10 years ago? 

Anytime we face tragedy, pain, or loss, it can be incomprehensible to think that there’s still a way to find the Paradise within.

How I see it, is that finding the Paradise within ourselves does not mean disregarding or denying the existence of tragedy, pain, or loss at that very same moment.  

We don’t have to be either in a state of Paradise or in a state of tragedy, pain, or loss.

It doesn’t have to be “either or.”

And we definitely don’t need to try to “silver lining” our way out of a painful or tragic situation by saying “it’ll all be ok” or “everything happens for a reason.” 

In fact, please stop saying shit like that.  It’s toxic positivity.  It doesn’t help.  In fact, it most likely makes things worse over the long run by denying the pain of the situation or moment.

Instead, the invitation is make space for the tragedy, pain, or loss. To fully acknowledge its existence. To fully accept that pain is part of being Human.

We also need to stop thinking that Paradise is some zen, blissful, heavenly state.  

To me, Paradise is all of it . . . Paradise holds space for all of the “good and bad,” “happy and sad,” “tragic and triumphant.”  

And I put those dualistic phrases in quotes because those words only have the meaning that each of us assigns to them.  They’re all subjective.  And they’re all words that create a myopic view of any situation without any space for a broader perspective.  

A perspective that allow for it all . . . everything . . .

You see, Paradise can be the place where it all just is.  

My mom died. That sucked.  It was, by my definition, “bad.”  

AND, I can honestly say that I would not have given myself permission to live the life that I live now if my mom was still alive.  I would never have wanted her to worry about me, judge me, or be disappointed in me for making an unconventional decision.  So out of that “bad,” came some “good.”

I heard a coach ask someone once the very shocking, but powerful question:  “Who has to die in order for you to live the life you want to live?”  

Oomph . . . that’s not a fun question to hear.

For me, apparently who had to die was an old version of me that still didn’t want to disappoint my dead mom.  In fact, my mom’s ghost had to die in order for me to live the life with which I feel fully aligned.

If that question is too difficult or shocking for you to ponder, think about it this way: 

Who are you really living your life for? Who are you trying to please or not disappoint? 

Who would need to disappear for you to give yourself permission to align more fully with the life you want?  For you to find the Paradise within yourself?

Now, those questions do NOT mean, nor am I advocating for, anyone to die, for you to harm anyone, or even for you to wish that someone would die.  

What I’m asking is that you reflect on how you might be holding yourself back through the limitations you’ve placed on yourself because of the subjective expectations of someone else.  

My mom died and it was “bad.” 

And out of that “bad” came “good” - my permission to live the life I really wanted to live.  In fact, the motivation for me to live a life truer to my purpose.

So . . . what does all that have to do with Paradise?  

First, can you you acknowledge that Paradise is a place of wholeness and spaciousness that has the capacity for all that life has to offer?  That Paradise is vast enough to hold everything you’re meant to experience as a Human? 

Second, can you further acknowledge that this state of Paradise exists within you?  Not outside of you?  That no amount of money or working or titles or accomplishments will help you find Paradise (and, in fact, it may actually pull you farther away from Paradise)?

And third, here’s an exercise for you. (Sorry, I didn’t get a meditation recorded while I was in Rainier). Read these instructions and then take a few moments to do this practice. 

• Sit. 

• Place your feet flat on the floor, hands in your lap. 

• Sit up straight. 

• Close your eyes. 

• Take a deep inhale all the way into your belly, and then fully exhale, long and slow.

• Do that again, just a little deeper this time while following the breath all the way from the beginning of the inhale, to the bottom of the inhale, to the pause right before the exhale, and then from the bottom of of the exhale, all the way to the top, and then to the pause again before the next inhale. 

• Keep following the breath . . . in and out . . . from top to bottom and from bottom to top.  

• Do that 10 or so times.

• Open your eyes.

That’s it.

That’s presence.  That is connecting to this moment . . . and this breath. 

That is where Paradise lives.  

That’s where you find the space to hold it all, to accept it all, and to be fully Human.

A place where there can be room “good” and “bad” because it all just is.   

A place of equanimity (calm, connected presence).  

Paradise isn’t someplace else.  It’s within you.  

By focusing on each breath, by connecting to your breath and your body, you have the key to Paradise.  

This practice - and I reiterate that it’s practice - is your portal to Paradise. 

The other day at Rainier, getting to play among the trails, wildflowers, and epic views of the mountain, I indeed felt like like I was in Paradise. 

But it was a different kind of Paradise from four years ago. This time, I could see the beautiful Paradise both inside and outside of me.

I could be connected to both.

Returning to the external Paradise reminded me of how I used to be so disconnected from my internal Paradise.

How I used to be so disconnected from self and my true essence . . . my true purpose.  

How I used to be way more connected to what other people wanted from me than what I wanted for myself.  

Four years ago I didn’t just summit Mount Rainer . . . . I unwittingly opened a door to Paradise within me.  

So here’s today’s Trail Mix:

Lessons: You don’t need to climb some massive mountain to open that door to Paradise within yourself.  All you need to do - right now in this moment - is sit and connect to your breath. Start there . . . .  

And then reflect on who you may be living for other than yourself.  Who or what you’re living for that is outside yourself.  

Then, come back home to yourself by connecting to your breath . . .

to your inner Paradise . . .

for even just a moment.

What I’m listening to: Silence. I listened to a lot of silence on the drive to Rainier. Try it next time you’re in the car. Even for just a few minutes. Instead of a podcast or music (you can even invite the kids to participate), take a minute of silence to breathe . . . feel your butt in the seat, your hands on the wheel . . . notice the sounds and sights around you. Listen to the silence. You might be surprised what you hear.