Thursday, May 04, 2006
Like many people, I do an annual Christmas letter. But that's really a misnomer. The Christmas part provides the impetus, but the content of the letter consists of whatever happens to be banging around inside my head. For Christmas '96 I had chosen mountain climbing as my metaphor. (In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a hopeless addict when it comes to metaphors) And to make a metaphor really work, it helps to know something of what you're talking about... so I did some basic research - history of and famous places and faces sort of stuff. Along the way, I bumped into a site sponsored by Outside Online, called Summit Journal Chat.
I began lurking, though I didn't know enough then to call it that. The stuff that was being traded there didn't take long to set its hooks though and it quickly became a regular part of my day. Kind of like frequenting a favorite watering hole after work, except I was always left thirsting for more. I wanted to say something, but the caliber of what was going down was a might intimidating. So, instead of chiming in with something responsive - back then there was still a strong focus on Everest and the previous spring - I pulled a paragraph from the Christmas letter I had just finished. Then, like a nine year old with a cane pole, I waited for a hit. When I got one, I tossed out another, then another and another, until the whole thing was out there. As they say...the rest is history.
So, on this ten year anniversary of the Summit Journal Chat, please indulge me just once more and take another look at...
__________________________
THE POINT
On May 10, 1996, Scott Fischer and Rob Hall died after summiting Everest, the tallest mountain on Earth. They were among eight climbers who lost their lives in a freakish storm that swept over the summit. Their names stand out because they were seasoned professionals, familiar with the procedures and risks at altitudes above 26,000 feet. Around the world people were intrigued and saddened by the loss.
What is it about mountain climbers? We see them in our periphery as if we were glancing at the sun, fearful of what a hard look might do. They seem to want it all and gamble everything to achieve it. In their quest, the essentials fall away. Theirs is a pilgrimage into a rarified realm that probes the upper limits of human endurance and plumbs the depths of the human soul.
A certain pointlessness surrounds an endeavor like mountain climbing. Rather than detract, it is a fundamental aspect of what mountain climbing is, and of what we are, for we all have mountains to climb. If we stop to catch our breath, the cold, thin air reveals the horizon. In those private and honest moments, knowing the distance we’ve come, we can sense the futility. At the top of this world, impenetrable nature is the Guide.
Mountains give us vision and scope. From them, we can peer into the darkest reaches of the universe. The incredible vastness in which we are suspended and cloistered, strips us of our delusions. In the end, climbing leads us nowhere and accomplishes nothing. That’s the point. We aren’t even a blip on the cosmic radar screen. What we are, all that we can be, is spirit.
I began lurking, though I didn't know enough then to call it that. The stuff that was being traded there didn't take long to set its hooks though and it quickly became a regular part of my day. Kind of like frequenting a favorite watering hole after work, except I was always left thirsting for more. I wanted to say something, but the caliber of what was going down was a might intimidating. So, instead of chiming in with something responsive - back then there was still a strong focus on Everest and the previous spring - I pulled a paragraph from the Christmas letter I had just finished. Then, like a nine year old with a cane pole, I waited for a hit. When I got one, I tossed out another, then another and another, until the whole thing was out there. As they say...the rest is history.
So, on this ten year anniversary of the Summit Journal Chat, please indulge me just once more and take another look at...
__________________________
THE POINT
On May 10, 1996, Scott Fischer and Rob Hall died after summiting Everest, the tallest mountain on Earth. They were among eight climbers who lost their lives in a freakish storm that swept over the summit. Their names stand out because they were seasoned professionals, familiar with the procedures and risks at altitudes above 26,000 feet. Around the world people were intrigued and saddened by the loss.
What is it about mountain climbers? We see them in our periphery as if we were glancing at the sun, fearful of what a hard look might do. They seem to want it all and gamble everything to achieve it. In their quest, the essentials fall away. Theirs is a pilgrimage into a rarified realm that probes the upper limits of human endurance and plumbs the depths of the human soul.
A certain pointlessness surrounds an endeavor like mountain climbing. Rather than detract, it is a fundamental aspect of what mountain climbing is, and of what we are, for we all have mountains to climb. If we stop to catch our breath, the cold, thin air reveals the horizon. In those private and honest moments, knowing the distance we’ve come, we can sense the futility. At the top of this world, impenetrable nature is the Guide.
Mountains give us vision and scope. From them, we can peer into the darkest reaches of the universe. The incredible vastness in which we are suspended and cloistered, strips us of our delusions. In the end, climbing leads us nowhere and accomplishes nothing. That’s the point. We aren’t even a blip on the cosmic radar screen. What we are, all that we can be, is spirit.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Oh,oh. I fear a group hug is in the offing !
Monday, May 01, 2006
PBob - I don't think that I, or anyone else was trying to downplay this group's collective history. I actually think that I'm walking down the same side of the street as you are - albeit three paces behind and a bit to the left,
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Generally speaking, it's not a good idea to trash ones past life too heavily, especially since one never really knows what fruit, be it apples or oranges, the future will bear. Hindsight does tempt, I admit, but remember: that was then and this is now. If one goes back far enough, they'll find a time when the thought of digging fossil artifacts out of the ground and burning them for fuel was considered to be a good idea. And maybe it was, had everyone not decided to do it.
Ten years ago can be summed up as a formative moment when we all collectively discovered our virtual mountain climber hand in front of our face. We cooed, and drooled and made stink in our pants. Now we're afraid to see the bareness of our bottoms in our baby photos. Fair enough. We can't help but grow up, but should guard like the dickens what we grow into. The tallest stairs I've ever climbed were the ones I went up as a child. With my big eyes of today, they now seem small. Still, I know they were the ones that taught me what anticipation and appreciation are all about. To us, Outside Online is a bit like the great and powerful OZ and all that bottom line stuff about making big bucks can make us feel pretty small. But don't fall for it. It doesn't matter that OO probably wouldn't give us a voice today because, though we were flattered, I don't think we ever wanted to be much more than we were. It, by itself, was enough and, if you don't believe it, then why are so many of us still here talking about it.
Ten years ago can be summed up as a formative moment when we all collectively discovered our virtual mountain climber hand in front of our face. We cooed, and drooled and made stink in our pants. Now we're afraid to see the bareness of our bottoms in our baby photos. Fair enough. We can't help but grow up, but should guard like the dickens what we grow into. The tallest stairs I've ever climbed were the ones I went up as a child. With my big eyes of today, they now seem small. Still, I know they were the ones that taught me what anticipation and appreciation are all about. To us, Outside Online is a bit like the great and powerful OZ and all that bottom line stuff about making big bucks can make us feel pretty small. But don't fall for it. It doesn't matter that OO probably wouldn't give us a voice today because, though we were flattered, I don't think we ever wanted to be much more than we were. It, by itself, was enough and, if you don't believe it, then why are so many of us still here talking about it.
