Stagnation Is Easy. Satisfaction Takes Work

“One does not surrender a life in an instant - that which is lifelong can only be surrendered in a lifetime.” --- Jim Eliott

“In the end, you won’t remember the time you spent working in the office or mowing your lawn. Climb that goddamn mountain.” ― Jack Kerouac

The mountain top and the therapists chair are lonely places. Places where baggage is left behind or stripped away. That avocado green Tourister with the extendable handle and Teflon wheels for instance. The angry self-protectiveness that stems from---where?  The crowd isn’t clamoring to give up the perception of safety. Not hungry enough or hurting enough.

The lie is this; satisfaction will come easy. A glimpse of a thing is not the thing itself. The river is beautiful seen from valley’s edge, but you can’t taste it.  Beautiful but it won’t slake your thirst, clean your face, soothe your feet, shake you awake. Have we always been so naive?  Feeling ‘in love’ isn’t the core of marriage; spilling semen isn’t sex. Rendered skin deep we call it beauty.

Time and self are difficult to give up. Deepening relationship requires both. Stagnation is easy. For now the mountain is a picture on your desktop. Personal growth hurts and leaves hollow. Reward seems nebulous.

We commit to the not-yet tangible. Remind ourselves. Short ascents where we push hard, feel shale and smell pine. At home we’re willing to have those deep, tough talks; play and wine with the mate. We do the difficult work. Sit in the lonely places. Listen in the lonely places. Stagnation is easy; satisfaction takes work.

“In a sense everything that is exists to climb. All evolution is a climbing towards a higher form. Climbing for life as it reaches towards the consciousness, towards the spirit. We have always honored the high places because we sense them to be the homes of gods. In the mountains there is the promise of… something unexplainable. A higher place of awareness, a spirit that soars. So we climb… and in climbing there is more than a metaphor; there is a means of discovery.” ― Rob Parker

Seasons Mundane and Seasons Exuberant

Remember your Creator in the days of your youth,
before the days of trouble come and the years approach when you will say,
 “I find no pleasure in them”—

An alpine climber leading summits of Aconcagua and Everest; a couple visiting each National park while living out of their RV; a witty, well published, motivational speaker; and a handful of professional photographers regularly appear on my Instagram feed. This morning I hit the snooze button twice and poured myself two cups of coffee before my morning reading and writing time.  I’ll write words for soul satisfaction only then head off to work that I do for the paycheck….’a time to throw stones and a time to gather stones.’

Autumn’s season sneaks up on her. My 85-year-old mother in law’s mind and muscle don’t respond as quickly as they once did.  Things that were once crisp and clean go hazy.  Eager exploration gives way to tiredness, frustration and afternoon nap. Entropy relentlessly pursues. Staying in bed is easier. TV easier. Decline is gradual.

Life has its’ seasons.  I’ve canoed the Colorado and submitted Whitney. A summer spent working with teens in inner-city Chicago.  Countless road-trips; sleeping under lightning sky and seeing countless shale streaked wildernesses by car.  I’ve quit taco-selling jobs after three weeks; had Summer jobs and jobs to make ends-meet. I expect all seasons to be like those seasons of exuberant exploration.

As axial tilt brings Earth closer to the sun; the choices we make and outside forces spin us throughout the year. We bend toward old age; bodies give in to gravity. This spring will be a different Spring than when I was Thirty. The tension remains. To find pleasure; and so there is a seeking.  To find contentment; and so there is a letting go.

Naked Grandeur: How I Became A Fan Of Cory Richards

On February 2, 2011 Cory Richards became the first American to climb an 8,000-meter peak in winter. He carried a small camera and filmed constantly.

Today, at 6:34 local time on May 24th in Tibet, Eddie Bauer Athlete and adventure photojournalist Cory Richards made his first successful ascent to the peak of Mt. Everest without the use of supplemental oxygen.

“What is your fascination with those two?” My wife asked as I checked Instagram for the 20^th time.  Adrian Ballinger and Cory Richards were to attempt to summit Everest without O2---and they were communicating the attempt in real time with social media.  Why my fascination?

My interest is vicarious.  I’ve been fascinated with climbers of Everest since my youth.  Krakauer heightened my interest in 1997.  I’m never going to climb Everest.  I like sleeping in cold---but not below zero temperatures.  Guaranteed stomach problems don’t excite me nor digging holes in the ice for relief.  I’m not motivated by the prospect of ‘every orifice being cracked and dry,’ as one climber described it.   On top of all that it’s tough to justify the 45 to 89-thousand-dollar price tag for the trip.  So why?

“Have you gazed on naked grandeur where there’s nothing else to gaze on...” is the first line from Robert Services’ great poem.  To experience pristine wilderness; cold blue water, air thick with pine and quiet—such quiet unimaginable til you’ve been away a while; that’s one reason.  Jagged peaks few will ever see and fewer will be victorious over.  That is the second reason.

Every man feels it but not every man acts on it.  The urge to push oneself so hard until you’re at the end of yourself—then to overcome.  Everest is the ultimate challenge.  This years’ climbing season ended with six dead on Everest.  That’s some high-stakes poker.  That too is why you climb with the likes of Ballinger and not someone else.  Great to summit.  Nice to make the trip back home.

Finally, there’s the spiritual component.  I wonder if part of the drive for Ballinger and Richards isn’t spirit driven?  “As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God.”  God’s handiwork shouts His praise, power and vastness while at the same time quieting my ever-disturbed soul. 

“Have you suffered, starved and triumphed,
groveled down, yet grasped at glory,
Grown bigger in the bigness of the whole?
"Done things" just for the doing, letting babblers tell the story,
Seeing through the nice veneer the naked soul?
Have you seen God in His splendors,
heard the text that nature renders?
(You'll never hear it in the family pew).
The simple things, the true things, the silent men who do things --
Then listen to the Wild -- it’s calling you.”