(thoughts from the Manitou Incline) Staircase of Grief
I recently had the opportunity to climb the Manitou Incline.
Manitou Springs is a lovely little town at the base of Pikes Peak in Colorado. This town sits at 6,306’ elevation; with a staircase up the side of the mountain that you can see from all over town. It looks like it goes straight up. It kind of does.
People come from all over the world to conquer this incline. It is a 0.88 mile long staircase made up of 2768 railroad tie steps. Some of the steps are gentle one tie height with deep landings and others are multiple railroad ties high with no landing to speak of. This stairway gains 2000 feet in elevation and is considered an extreme on the difficulty scale.
There are a few spots that you can bail and take a side trail back down the mountain. Once you reach the summit, after passing a false summit (so cruel if you are unaware of its existence), it is recommended that you take the Barr trail back down the mountain instead of going down the way you came up because it is so steep.
Of course you want to be in pretty decent shape to climb to the top, but like most physical feats, a lot of the key to succeeding is mental toughness.
There are many spots you can stop to rest. The view from the incline is spectacular. Whether you make it three steps up or the whole way, if you take the opportunity to look around, breath, rest, you can take in the most amazing thrills for your senses.
While I was climbing, resting, looking around, climbing again, it got me to thinking about how similar some of our physical activities are to our emotional and spiritual ones. Climbing the Manitou Incline made me think about moving from down low inside of new grief up and out.
As I finish my book about sitting with grief, I want to end it this way:
THE STAIRCASE OF GRIEF
A grief journey is like climbing an incline. Very few are in shape for the climb and exertion this will be. Not many people start up this incline perfectly equipped for the elevation changes, altitude adjustments, and changes in terrain.
This incline comes out of the pit of darkness that you fell in to. It is an incline with steps. These steps are placed unevenly along the trail upward. Some steps are a gentle rise and others are three railroad ties high and require actual crawling to keep moving upward.
These steps are great places for taking a rest. Their nice flat landings are a place to pause and take in the scenery from your new vantage point. You can look down and see from where you have climbed, walked, crawled. You can look around at the view that is now afforded you. You can look up and see just how far it is you still have to go.
Sometimes these staircases have false summits. There is a flat spot you have been eyeing your whole way up and when you reach it you realize the rest of the steps were hidden from your view during your climb thus far.
Once at the true summit, your journey isn’t really over. It is just more stable terrain, more flat than uneven. You are exhausted, yet stronger.
Nobody has ever gone uphill by accident and whether you were pushing yourself to make good time to the top, or you were dragging yourself to put one foot in front of the other, you climbed the incline. You journeyed through grief.