Heavens' Honing; Heroes and Outliers

                                                           Photo by Clem Onojeghuo on Unsplash

"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."

"And through everything we've learned, We've finally come to terms,

We are the outsiders."

All my heroes are outliers. The Cambridge definition of outlier is “a person, thing, or fact that is very different from other people…” That could mean a whole hell of a lot of things. To help clarify here’s a shallow skim-of-a surface list of mine. They are: A poet to the Yukon, a photographer of the Sierra, a martyred missionary to the Waorani, a writer of a nonfiction narrative about the fields near Roanoke, and a Parkinsons afflicted writer grappling the problem of pain. Prophets pointing us to a ‘better country,’ while showing us present beauty. Writers whom, in the words of Annie Dillard, wrestle with this question,  “Why would an omnipotent, omniscient and merciful God allow natural evil to happen?”

Perhaps I am mistaken in my choice of heroes. My failures are not a result. Nor my triumphs. My decisions may have cost me what the Jones’ have and I don’t. In a world of tangibles it’s hard to see the value of intangibles. To quote Madeleine L’Engle, “What would have happened to Mary (and all the rest of us) if she had said no to the angel?”

To anyone choosing a hero I would give this advice; wait. Wait until you are in your forties or fifties so as not to choose the wrong one. What if you were to choose as your hero one who enjoys freedom? Then one day sitting at breakfast in Dallas with a specialized accountant for the rich, and an executive for BHP among others you realize your choices, fate and living quarters don’t compare well to others. Those insecurities rush in. Perhaps you should have chosen that money-making, fitting-in archetype instead.

Having heroes is like the back surgery I just had done. The world pushes hard against our spine. We are unaligned. Realignment is sometimes as easy as a crack from a chiro. Picking up an essay from a role-model keeps us on track. Other times gotta hideaway with that Spofity playlist, some journals and tattered tomes.

Choosing a hero is easier than becoming one. Maybe we choose them according to our souls wiring. Do the chords resonate because you’re attuned to them? It’s not always comfortable being an outlier. If that’s who I am then that’s who I should be shaped to be. Heaven and heroes honing me to be my best.

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.”

Normal Vs. Radical Lifestyle: Battles of A Normal Guy

They have cradled you in custom, they have primed you with their preaching,

They have soaked you in convention through and through;

They have put you in a showcase; you’re a credit to their teaching---

But can’t you hear the Wild---it’s calling you.

---Robert Service

I live in tension.  On one end I spend my days as the normal guy.  I go to work, enjoy my wife, delight in my daughter; pay bills, workout, go to church and try to accomplish my short list of goals.  Pushing against this everyday life is the challenge to live a radically good story.  I am not alone in this.  Sometimes I feel I go it alone.

Partly it’s the voices I struggle against.  I say these things to myself and accept them as truth.  What if they are lies?  I look at writers like Donald Miller and Stephen Pressfield and the voice says, “They are brilliant.  They are geniuses.  You are ‘a bear of little brain’ just like Winnie the Pooh.  Those writers are crazy and committed---or should be.  Myself, I am just a normal guy.  And what normal guys do is work hard, be good, play on weekends, make it to retirement then die.

I’m so freakin tired.  No wonder we live for our days off?  We drive to work and drive home; fight the traffic, schlep the children, catch a sit-com, kiss the wife and hit the pillow.  I want to find the energy to keep swimming upstream.  The vision stays alive but its ember and needs oxygen. 

Oxygen is difficult to find.  Yet we are wired to breathe it, wired not to settle for the air down here.  We are wired for more.  Settle into the Barcalounger and we die.  There’s that tension.  We are not content with status quo.  What’s the answer?