Featured Image: the author on the ledge above the Kor Roof, South Face of Washington Column, Yosemite, CA 2001. Credit Paul Gardner.
he ledge was two feet wide and sloping; not the most comfortable belay stance. One thousand feet below, the Merced River winds its way through the floor of Yosemite National Park. Across the valley a granite rock wall climbs three thousand feet to Glacier Point. The air carries a scent of spring and white cotton balls drift in a blue sky.
I am anchored to bolts driven in the rock wall halfway up the 1200 foot vertical South face of Washington Column waiting for Paul to ascend the fixed line and join me. Finally he reaches the ledge, and after a quick transition, leaves the belay leading up and out of sight. Left alone with my thoughts I bask in the warmth of the afternoon sun. That is… until the sun vanishes around the corner. The temperature drops and the wind blows. I try to forget the cold and focus on the joyful beauty. After an hour, I start to shiver. Misery.
Most of us avoid discomfort, yet we want to be emotionally and physically strong. Life doesn’t work that way. We grow by experiencing discomfort, practicing with difficulty, and dealing with uncertainty. Reality is aging, illness, pain, not getting what we want or getting what we don’t want. What causes misery is trying to avoid pain and suffering. Experiencing suffering leads to spiritual growth and joy.
The Pocket Pema Chodron
One of my favorite books, The Pocket Pema Chodron, is written by a Buddhist Monk. My copy is worn with age, the pages dog-eared. She writes, everything that occurs is not only usable, but the path itself. We need to move toward difficulty rather than backing away. Difficult situations and people help us learn and grow.
Life is both glorious and wretched. Gloriousness inspires, encourages, cheers and energizes us. Yet gloriousness can be tinged by craving and addiction. Wretchedness humbles and softens us. Yet is we are just wretched we would be constantly depressed. Gloriousness and wretchedness go together; one inspires, the other softens.
When Life Falls Apart
It is October 2013 and I sit on my coach feeling miserable. Over the last year, my 28 year marriage ended, and my business failed. In August I almost died in a climbing accident soling a technical climbing route on the Grand Teton, Wyoming. Two weeks later the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission filed a lawsuit against me and my company I shuttered over a year ago. In late September I had a bike accident that left me with a broken femur.
After the pain subsided, I walked into Lifetime Fitness on crutches and stating working out. I talked to some personal trainers. I felt this was my path: to help others live healthy and active lives.
When life falls apart it is a testing and an opportunity for healing. We think we pass the test by solving the problem, but life is a series of problems. Things work out then fall apart. Healing comes from letting life happen: grief then relief, misery then joy. Work with suffering rather than struggling against it. This is our path.
Conclusion
Photo: the author leading the Kor Roof, South face of Washington Column, Yosemite, CA. 2001. Credit Paul Gardner.
After two hours, lost in my own pity party, I finally hear Paul’s faint cry, “off belay.” Followed by “Line is fixed.” Moving slowly and carefully, I strip the belay and attach my ascenders to the fixed line. Up I go and within minutes feel the heat of the sun. Warmed by my own exertion I am feeling the joy.
I watch the rope slowly pay out as Paul leads the next pitch. I am not dressed for this. I try to think of something other than the insidious cold. I watch the cliff swallows tuck their wings and dive. Dropping fifty feet they open their wings, do a barrel role, catch a thermal and rocket back up the cliff. I start shaking; first stage hypothermia. My ankles ache from standing on the sloping ledge. I am so cold I want to scream and cry, but no one is there to listen.
Life hits you with waves of difficulty. If you develop a zest for the challenges of life, the waves get less violent as you age. Instead of getting hammered by the wave pushing your head in the sand, you drop below the surface and hold your breath. When the wave passes your resurface, take a deep breath and enjoy the heat of the sun.
Photo: Paul and Steve on the summit of Washington Column with Half Dome in the background, Yosemite, CA 2001. Steve Markusen collection.
Leave a Reply