Farewell to hardware: inner and outer

At the beginning of the week, the plates and screws in my clavicle and ankle got removed. Two days later, I sold my climbing gear. I had not planned it this way. A friend of Karla's showed interest and I felt ready to let it go, or so I thought.The emotional release that followed was big.Poor Matt. He walks in the door from his run with me sitting on the stairs bawling. My entire rack of cams, nuts, friends, aliens, draws, slings, locking biners were gone.
I can still remember how I excited I felt when I purchased my first "used" rack. It meant I was serious about becoming a lead climber. Unknowingly, it also meant I was on a course of proving myself. Overtime I put a lot of energy into learning how to use my gear, bought new gear and lived the lifestyle of a climber. I took 2 month long road trips every year. I challenged myself to climb harder and took greater risks. It had become a central part of my life and a way I defined myself. As I watched the woman who bought my gear attach each piece to the gear sling then walk out the door, it felt as if a part of me had died even though I knew it was right to sell it.
Several days before my anniversary, I decided to not return to lead climbing. The risks associated with being a lead climber are too great after what I've been through physically and mentally. Whether I will climb again is still up in the air. I am not ready to decide.
Now that the tears have stopped, I am able to feel relief. I am relieved to be moving forward again. Consciously and unconsciously, I have been holding onto an identity that is not mine. Between the set back with my good shoulder, the challenges with unemployment and finances, I am losing my fighting energy. I say that not as a victim, but from a place of willingness to surrender to what is. Somewhere within I understand the importance of making room for other parts of myself to come forth and the limitations of my body are aiding me in the process.

and something started in my soul,

fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire.

Pablo Neruda