Sometimes I feel the compulsion to buy something at MEC physically - that not purchasing that thermos, that guide book, or fresh AAA batteries for my headlamp will somehow cause my chest to explode. I am driven by a physical need to always be improving, getting better, getting closer to the perfect set up, more prepared, or organized, aaaahhh. It's enough to make your head spin.
Of course I can identify these shiny objects as the empty vessels they are! I'm not stupid. I know that contentment comes more from choice than circumstance, and that paying for it is as fleeting as the elation of a New Years Eve countdown. But how do I account for this behavior?
Our families tell us stories - christmas or birthdays and hours of entertainment as children when the wrapping paper was more interesting than the present! How??!! My god, how to get back there? How to be impressed with the details, to loose all perspective in a single piece of paper? I have arrived at the opinion that what I'm really after are the stolen moments of cresting ridges, finishing climbs and meeting new frontiers. I can't make a connection between the untouched legitimacy of those moments and the absurdity of everyday life, and so, surrounded by driving consumerism, I purchase the thermos, or guidebook or AAA batteries, knowing that I'll use it someday, drinking surprisingly hot coffee while watching a sunrise and all will be good with the world.
Perhaps.
The basic conclusion of my conversation with Lauraunt was this: there are almost no climbing areas on the planet where you would actually need more than climbing shoes and a harness. With only these things you will meet people, befriend them, offer what you had, share what you need and enjoy what you love together. I've done this on numerous occasions all over the planet and can report having had a fantastic time, every time being unbothered by performance, or achievement, just happy to be living, breathing, pulling myself up the side of a mountain.
So, it was without surprise this morning, when life titled its ancient head to the side and winked : my mom had sent me this video.
