Beware of the Thief

My week started with the news that big mountain skier Hilaree Nelson was missing in the Himalayan Mountains.  After summiting the 26,781-foot Mt. Manaslu, she and her life and alpine partner Jim Morrison skied down when she was caught in a small avalanche pushing her off the mountain.  Hilaree graduated a year ahead of me at Colorado College and the news gripped all of us from CC who knew and admired her.

For three days we all prayed that a miracle of all miracles would prevail and Hilaree would be found alive.  Tuesday we heard that they located a ski, jacket and avalanche beacon signal but bad weather prevented the rescue from continuing.  On Wednesday, the helicopter landed at 22,000 feet allowing Jim Morrison and two others to retrieve her badly damaged body.  She was announced dead.

Jim Morrison shared this on Instagram: “There are no words to describe the love for this woman, my life partner, my lover, my best friend and my mountain partner. She has been a beacon of light in my life day in and day out….My loss is indescribable and I am focused on her children and their steps forward. (Hilaree) is the most inspiring person in life and now her energy will guide our collective souls.”

The tributes to Hilaree are wide and deep.  She was bigger than life on and off the mountain.   She was a pioneer and a sponsored pro skier and adventurer.  She was also a mother to two boys.   Her friend Sage Martin told their hometown newspaper Telluride Daily Planet “Hilaree’s love of adventure was contagious. She has been a mentor and role model to adventurers around the world and a trailblazer for women everywhere. Beyond her first ascents and first descents of some of the world's most epic mountains, she set forth a lasting example for all of us.”

I’m surprised how affected I am by Hilaree’s death.  Restless at night I woke up all week thinking about Hilaree in the mountains of Nepal.  I saw and lived in the foothills of the Himalayas in 1994.  I never dreamed of climbing or exploring them.  It’s out of my comfort zone.

This dramatic trauma sparked soulful conversation between my college friends.  Whitney, one of my besties, wrote that “Hilaree’s life and death have made me think so much about risk. The risks we are willing to take or not and why or why not. And how fascinated we are with people who take big physical and mental risks and how important they are to our world and humanness. It touches something deep in all of us.”

Something deep inside me has been touched. And it has not all been easy. I’ve been comparing myself to Hilaree and other risk-takers.  It’s not necessary and it doesn’t cause joy.

I remembered the quote I heard: “comparison is the thief of joy.”  Isn’t it true? Social media does not help.  Scrolling instagram can bring up feelings of “less than” or even jealousy. I know when I compare my fantastic life to someone else, even though I have all that I want, I can still want more.  It’s not just that these comparisons are not useful, they can also be harmful.

I remind my clients and new mamas of the risk of comparisons.  I shared with a new mama who I supported last week that by comparing your baby or your experience with others, it could contribute to complicated feelings.  We are all on our own journey.

I continue to notice how compassion affects my life.  I am never going to be a high-alpine adventurer.  And, that is my choice.   I don’t have to feel like I need to do that in order to “win” at life.  I weigh risk and reward and chose what is best for my family and myself.  I know that a beautiful journey is one that is intentional.  I am working on leading an intentional life.

Hilaree will be missed by both people who loved her and many who didn’t even know her.   With any loss, it reminds me that life is precious and that the time to live is now.