“Oh, you’re carrying a boulder, like Sisyphus,” I said.
“I am training for the Spartan race and I have to do this ten more times as part of my training,” she said.
I looked down the hill she just ascended. The hill was short, maybe the length of a city block but steep, too steep for mountain bike. As I turned to walk down the easier path with switchbacks, I thought about the myth of Sisyphus. In mythology, Sisyphus was punished for tricking Zeus and he was sentenced to push a boulder up a hill for eternity. Every time he would reach the top, the boulder would roll back down and he would have to start again.
I sometimes think about this myth when I am ruminating about something that I can’t seem to let go of. It might be a charged conversation with a loved one or a future challenge that feels insurmountable. I know when I get caught carrying thoughts like a boulder up a hill, no part of me benefits from this weight. It’s diminishes all my life force energy and not allowing me to stay present in the moment of creative potential.
Yet, this woman chooses to carry this boulder up the hill ten more times as a form of training. I tilted my head and asked, ‘Spirit are you telling me to carry boulders up hills to train for Spartan races?’
Probably not, so I began to wonder about what it means to train for something. I assume preparing for a Spartan race you strengthen your muscles, cardiovascular system and train for endurance. But I also know from my brother, who is an accomplished athlete, that when I ask him how he can run 100 mile-races he says it’s all mental.
It seems to train mentally like a Spartan, that strength is measured by fluidity, flexibility and openness. So if we are carrying the boulder up the hill or fixated on some past charged event, maybe we could take a minute to be flexible enough to notice – oh, this boulder is making me buckle or I am so fixed on my story. And in the moment we could be fluid enough to allow the boulder to shapeshift into a smaller boulder or an orange or find a way into the other person’s perspective. This fluidity demonstrates being less dependent on the left side of the brain, the critic and judge, and opens the door to the right inside of our brain that intuitively feels the shape and weight of the boulder in our arms. Or maybe we could train our minds to notice the patterns we create, pushing that boulder up the hill and how – when it rolls back down, we are willing to start all over again, even if we are breathless. And with this awareness maybe we realize that as we are stuck with our faces in the boulder, we may miss the smile of a loved one or the feeling of the breeze on our face. And maybe as we begin to notice ourselves stuck in the action of boulder carrying/story ruminating, we can just decide to drop it (careful that it doesn’t hit your toes or anyone else). If nothing else we can continue to open ourselves to training our minds to stay open, fluid and flexible. Encouraging ourselves to have the mental strength of a Spartan while cultivating a more weightless, free way of moving through the world.
Sending love and light and may all your loads be full of healing.