Svadhishthana's log

Pretty lazy day today. Just super tired - couldn't get out of bed until almost noon, even though I went to sleep at a good time last night. Indication I need to be more consistent with sleep and meditation.

But am almost done with sanding the deck. Unfortunately, won't finish that until tomorrow, since I have a tour soon, and then a date after.

Tomorrow OR girl is coming over to mine to practice some climbing stuff, then I'm taking her out Sunday. I realize I'm massively breaking the once-per-week rule, but I'll be gone at the end of next week anyway. Worst case scenario, I don't retain her. Best case scenario, she develops an emotional connection that will keep her coming back when I'm in town.
 
Had a date last night. Thought she'd flaked for most of the day, since she didn't respond to my confirmation text in the morning. Then mid afternoon she responds, apologizes for not responding earlier (apparently she was just glued to her computer screen) and says she's still down. Our previous convos was super flirty and indicated she was subby, and the trend continues. Around 7 she asks if we can push the date back 15 min since errands are taking longer than usual - sure np. I show up, she shows up a few minutes later, dressed up sexy. She's amicable at first, but not particularly flirty, but emboldened by her texts I heavily lay on the physical touch and lead her around. We get a couple drinks and talk a bit - I'm fighting my natural urge to clam up or go into platonic robot mode, instead going for a few teases and compliments. After the first drink, she still doesn't seem to really be leaning in, so I back off on the physical touch and lean back a little. Almost immediately, she starts getting more engaged in the conversation, turns towards me, starts gesturing with her hands so they "accidentally" touch me, making eye contact. We get another round and start kissing - as we keep going, she seems to get more enthusiastic.

But then she mentions - she has a time limit and needs to leave soon because (weirdest excuse ever) her dog is on its period. I tease her a bit and say I'm gonna do my best to tempt her, and say we should go somewhere more private before she leaves. She says she can't because she knows if she did, then she would *definitely* stay. So I walk her to her car, make out a little more, and she leaves.

Sent her a joke-y text a bit after the date, but as of this morning, no response.

Very strange. She was alternatively giving off enthusiastic and uninterested vibes the whole time. As of right now, I'll assume she was actually interested in fucking me, but was a bit nervous at first, actually did need to go home to take care of her responsibilities, and has simply not checked her phone yet.

OR girl is coming over later today, so I'm considering tying her up and snapping a (tasteful) picture to send to my date last night as a swing for the fences move.

Today:
Meditate
Work
Sand + paint Deck
Plan climbing tomorrow
Hang w/ OR girl
Print sign for Airbnb
KBs
 
Yesterday, went on an alpine scramble with my tenants. Fun group activity with a bit of danger and suffering - helps solidify bonds among people in the house. The more they like each other, the less likely they are to want to move out. Also, great opportunity to snap group action shots, which I can put in future ads when trying to fill rooms. As a landlord, the primary value I provide is a roof that doesn't leak for a price that's affordable - but the niche I fill is providing a fun, positive community for newcomers to the city to hook into. The more I can build and advertise these good vibes, the easier it is to fill rooms with other people who will keep the good vibes going.

The whole trip included about 8 miles of hiking and a fair bit of elevation gain and loss, tagging a couple summits at 14k ft. By the end of the day, everyone was pretty beat, and I had a couple beers. Crashed in bed last night exhausted - but woke up this morning feeling surprisingly good. A knot in my upper back I've been dealing with for a few weeks now has loosened up, and I feel rested despite drinking, having garbage sleep the night before, and having a long strenuous day.


I've actually long held a theory that easy, steady-state cardio is one of the keys to good health, but have ignored actually implementing my own advice. Partly because of a number of lower body injuries I've accumulated over the years, and partly because it is simply so time consuming. One more thing to do in retirement.

Today, going on a climb with OR girl. Hoping to send a pitch that's been a goal of mine for... fuck, years now.

This next week will be busy. Wrapping up friggin everything at my houses, packing to head out to climb walls. Some of my coworkers are giving me a retirement party at the bar on Friday, then I'm leading a canyoneering trip to Utah with tenants and friends that weekend. Then they'll turn back to Denver, and I'll keep going west - though not too quickly, I think. I believe I will find a nice spot in the desert before continuing to center myself and communicate with some mycological friends I have.
 
Hung with some friends Sunday after climbing w/ OR girl. Got way too drunk on tequila, which basically blew up my whole Monday.

Back at it today. Only a few more days until I'm free.
 
Yesterday took care of some chores. Lots of those these days. Then it took a bit of an exciting turn when my friend got a text that his girlfriend (one of my tenants) was now stuck on a multipitch in a canyon near town and needed rescue. So, went and hiked a 400' climb at midnight to free their stuck rope. Not hard, but it was kinda fun to play hero. Otoh, pretty tired today because of it.

Today, more chores. Gonna go to sleep early tonight.
 
It's been a hot second.

This update comes to you in three parts. Before, during and after, and going forward.

Part 1: Before

I did it. I quit my job at the end of August. I used ChatGPT to write a letter of resignation since I really couldn't be bothered to do it myself. I cleaned it up to get it ready. Then in my one on one with my supervisor, I told him I was retiring, and sent the letter in. On my last day of work, I fucked around in the morning and I think maybe I sent a few emails and slack messages to people congratulating me. That afternoon, I drove to the office - that unbearably indistinguishable office building, surrounded by strip malls and parking lots, full of fluorescent lights and grey cubical walls. The place where I'd blare the music in my headphones to drown out my coworkers inane babblings about their kids or "the game". Where I would arrive bleak and bleary eyed every morning, sucking down 20 cups of coffee each day to stay sane. Where I would stare at a computer screen for hours, my head feeling like it was in a vice, cursing myself and God for putting me in such a hell as purgatory where I can't even pity myself for my bad fortune. I dropped off my laptop, and headed to the bar next door where my coworkers were gathering to send me off. One last chore. One last charade of fake smiles and handshakes and pretending like I give a shit.

As expected, it was terrible - but some 13% beers and hyper processed food took the edge off. I told them a few secrets. How I'd been buying properties to create passive income. How I'd been planning to do this since before I even graduated college. But I didn't tell them anything truly revealing, like how I thought they were all boring, uninteresting chumps, and I couldn't believe that they could bear to keep living the way they did. Partly, of course, because it wasn't true - a good number of them were actually very intelligent and interesting people who I might have been good friends with under other circumstances. I collected their phone numbers with promises to keep in touch, knowing full well I would never talk to any of them again.

Eight years before as a college senior - horrified at the prospect that I might end up unemployed upon graduation - I'd gone into the CEO's office, looked him dead in the eyes, and lied, telling him I wanted to work at his company and would work hard to succeed. On that day at the end of August, as I stood up to leave the bar, I repeated the trick one last time - I looked him dead in the eye and lied again, telling him I had enjoyed working for him and I appreciated the opportunity he'd given me. Then I walked out of my bar more than a little tipsy, got in my car, and drove away towards the setting sun.

Do the dirt.

Walk away.

Don't say shit.

My car was packed and ready to go. My brain was in a vice. Scared, I suppose, at the prospect of its newfound freedom. So I tried to give my brain space, driving in silence. When I could muster the effort, I would think of nothing, doing nothing, except feeling the unending pressure on the inside of my skull and the pinching of the muscles around my nose and eyes. But mostly, I stared into the vast expanse of the desert as A Horse With No Name ran on repeat in my head.

I made good time over Vail Pass, through Grand Junction, and into Utah. I stopped in Green River for gas, and pulled off the interstate past the San Raf Swell, making camp on some lonely desert dirt road with nothing around but sand and scrub oak.

The next day in Salina, I gassed up. Stretching my new freedom, I parked in front of the Maverik convenience store and set up my camp stove on the trunk of my car, making myself a nice meal of coffee and breakfast burritos. Bed headed and barefoot, I watched local Mormon blue collar types and respectable middle American vacationers mill about - and they watched me, the dirty, weird degenerate using their nice wholesome gas station parking lot as his personal kitchen. It felt good. Not as good as drinking outside the Dollar General. But still good.

Full on food, gas, water, and tire pressure, I made another happy decision and told Google maps to avoid highways. As I rolled out of Salina, I followed all posted speed limits, taking great joy in - seemingly for the first time in my life - seeing my current speed in Google maps display in black instead of red. What's the rush? I had time now.

The Nevada desert stretched on and on. In Great Basin National Park, I disposed of my supply of mushrooms at the base of a great gnarled ponderosa snag, with wicked branches that turned to evil fingers and a forest floor which turned to thousands of snakes. Some time later, I tucked into an unknown wash in an unknown mountain range, and took one of the most enjoyable bathes of my life, splashing ice cold snow runoff across my body in a location so undisturbed that even the breezes seemed lonely. Sand, scrub brush, the periodic mountain range and tiny scrappy desert town. On and on.

==========================

I reach up as high as I can and shove a #0 Z4 - the smallest cam I have - into the top of a crumbling pin scar in the rock. The sun beats down on my back behind me. Heat radiates out from the rock in front of me. My sun hoody is stiff with rehydrated sweat, while my underwear feels uncomfortably grimy after my learning experience taking a shit in a bag while dangling in my harness 600' off the ground. Lesson learned - bring extra TP. I clip my ladder to the cam above me and stomp on the ladder a few times. The cam holds. I shift my weight onto the cam, off the camhook I'd been standing on before, cleaning the camhook behind me and walking up the ladder. Walking up as high as I can, I can barely reach the next pin scar - even worse and more flared than the last. Fear clenching my throat, I reach for my black Totem cam - renowned among climbers for their superior ability to fit flared placements and beloved as everyone's favorite piece to place when scared. And I am scared now. I'm alone on this wall. I've seen no one since I left the ground the morning before, and have no one holding the end of my rope. Of course, I'm still tied in... But a bad fall. A broken leg.... I try not to think about it as I reach up and wiggle the black Totem around, trying to seat it well until it seems to hold decently. I clip my ladder to it, and bounce the ladder a few times with my foot before it rips out of place - shit! The sudden change in force shock loades the #0 I'm standing on, and I hear a loud metallic PING as it pulls out of its placement as well. My shoes stick to the rock momentarily while my center of mass falls outwards, sending me rocketing head first down the cliff. As I fall, the shock of my piece pulling subsides in a split second before my fear of falling engages. My fear of falling normalizes as my fall continues, and my brain curiously wonders how much longer I will continue accelerating through the air before my belay device engages and my rope catches me. Fractions of a second feel like days as I become increasingly panicked - my belay device isn't catching! My rope has been chopped! One of my knots must have failed! "Fuck, I'm gonna die" floods my mind just as my belay my device engages and the rope regains tension. My fall decelerates as the giant rubber band of rope elongates, and my feet fall down past my head, completing the backflip I'd started 50 feet higher up the wall.

I reorient myself in my harness and gasp for breath as my adrenaline starts to recede. The beefy 10mm rope I'm dangling from looks thin as dental floss now, and I can barely believe it held - despite the thousands of R&D and QA hours spent ensuring it would be able to hold a pickup truck comfortably. I briefly wish I could be somewhere cool, close to the ground, with abundant water and snacks, but I shake the thought from my mind. I'm dangling in space 600' up a granite cliff, alone. Shut the fuck up and get to work. I slap a jumar on the rope above me and start jugging up to bolt that caught my fall, and repeat the moves. Camhook, reach high. #0 Z4, reach high. Bad pin scar.... This time I reach for my offset cams - specifically designed for these sorts of flaring pin scars. The #.3/.2 seems to fit, but isn't in deep enough, so I try the #.2/.1 . I shove it in deep. Deeper. Deeper. C'mon motherfucker, deeper! The small side of the cam is completely buried, and the larger side looks well placed on the outside of the flare. I yard on it with my hand a few times. Bounce my foot on the ladder. Then stop on the ladder, trying as hard as I can to pull it out. It stays. I'm nervously optimistic as I shift my weight onto the offset cam and begin climbing the ladder. My waist is even with it. Just one more step up and I'll be able to clip the fixed pin above me, regaining a touch of security. Just one more ste -

FUCK! I scream as the offset cam rips. I hear the distinctive PING! of the #0 pulling out of the wall again, this time hurtling through the air sideways. Now as I fall, I am more gripped by frustration than fear - I'm gonna have to make those moves *again*! "This is taking too much time!" I scream in my head as I wait for my belay device to engage. When it does, my body is slammed sideways into my harness and I let out a loud grunt as it punches me in the side of the belly before my rope swings me back into the wall, bashing my shoulder against the rock. I reorient myself again, dangling in space, and pant. I barely have the energy to keep myself upright, it seems. I lean forward against the rope as fatigue overtakes me. My vision starts to dim. I panic as I realize I'm blacking out. Adrenaline plus dehydration. "I have to get back to camp..." I think, remembering my portaledge and haul bag sixty feet below me and 40 feet to my left, stocked with a meager ration of food and water. I start jugging the line, slowly, keeping my heart rate in check. By the time I reach the bolt again, the adrenaline has receded. I don't feel close to fainting anymore. Camp, safety, entices me. But I'm already behind schedule. The day is only getting hotter, and I know that descending now would put me so far behind schedule that I would have to scuttle the whole mission.

But I can't fall again. I know if I fall again, get hit with that adrenaline kick again, I could pass out dangling from the end of my rope. And who knows what happens then. I start climbing again I remember Mark Twight, fueled by rage and ambition and masochism, and begin chanting to myself as the sun beats down and adrenaline starts pumping thick blood through my veins.

This is what you want, this is what you get.
This is what you want, this is what you get.
This is what you want, this is what you get.
This is what you want, this is what you get.

Cam hook.

This is what you want.

Reach high.

This is what you get.

#0

This is what you want.

Reach high.

This is what you get.

No more fucking around. Nut up or shut up. Stop wishing for security where there isn't any. I whip out the cam hooks again, and slot one in the pin scar. It looks awkward. The angles look weird. I tell myself that this is when cam hooks excell. I gently pull down on it. It stays. Maintaining some tension so it doesn't just fall out of the crack, I bounce it with my foot a few times. It stays. I ooze my weight onto the camhook.

This is what you want, this is what you get.

My heart pounds as I climb the ladder.

This is what you want, this is what you get.

My waist is even with the cam hook. I reach up to clip the fixed pin, but it is just out or reach... Fuuuuuck! Fuck! One more step.

This is what you want, this is what you get.

I take a step up and balance precariously in the ladder as I reach up and left towards the pin. "Don't fall over. Don't fucking fall over." I think as I reach out towards the pin. "C'mon. C'mon. C'mon."

I clip the pin and sink into the secure embrace of a rusty piece of iron as relief washes over me. The sun beats down.

The next day, cursing and struggling, low on food and completely out of water, I wrestle my haul bag up the final 4th class pitch. My situation is a bit grim. I'm significantly dehydrated, the sun is setting, and I have 1000' of chossy, exposed, dangerous scrambling to do down North Dome Gully if I want the prescious water and shelter in the valley below. But there is no need to rush. A few minutes of rest won't make it any darker, or make me more dehydrated or exhausted. I sit down on a rock and watch purple, red, and gold hues splash across Yosemite Valley below, savoring, for a moment, my accomplishment. My first big wall. I solo'ed The Prow of Washington Column.

============================

I sit down on my backpack in San Juan airport, lean back against a stainless steel support column, and let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank fucking God" I say to myself as I look forward, for the first time in my life, to sitting on in a cramped airplane seat for several hours.

I've just spent a couple weeks travelling around Puerto Rico with several friends - roaming around the beaches, eating the local food, occasionally climbing some rocks, swimming beneath remote waterfalls, walking through historic colonial towns, and drinking a lot of mojitos. On paper, a fantastic and memorable trip. In reality - a shit show. The obvious source of frustration is my friends on the trip - one endlessly bickering couple and another girl who feels the constant need to nag and criticize. Being stuck with them in a single car and sharing bedrooms in Airbnb has had me counting down the minutes until the trip is over and I can catch my flight. This is the second such trip I've had in two months. The first was a climbing trip to Greece. The dynamic there was far better - but my aggravation was there as well.

I close my eyes for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of being alone in a crowded airport before I sit up and start writing my thoughts out on my phone. I'm fucking retired, travelling the world to beautiful tropical destinations - why am I a miserable sack of shit?

Answers to this question have been turning over in my head for the past two weeks. By now, they are obvious - the problem is that I didn't actually want to go on these trips. I was hesitant from the start, and was egged on by the friends planning them. I rationalized that they would be "fun" and that I wouldn't want to miss out - but my heart wasn't in it. I bought my plane ticket, then threw my bag together the night before and got on the plane - that was the extent of my interest beforehand. Thus, on arrival I had no idea what was going on or what the plan was, and thus, had no ability to say what I wanted or to influence the itinerary. Having no say, then, I felt like I had no control - always immensely frustrating.

But beyond that, my mind felt torn. Torn between - on one hand - chasing after big, distant, challenging objectives requiring lots of building and legwork - and on the other - decompressing, relaxing, re-evaluating, and more or less doing absolutely nothing to ground myself after a huge life shift. And either of those options would have been fine. But instead, here I am stuck in the middle - running around chasing piddling little objectives and "relaxing" by guzzling ouzo or gaseolina and waking up every morning hungover. No wonder I spent so much time on these trips hammering away on Duolingo, doing pushups and pistols, and reading technical manuals on Texas Holdem - anything to feel like I'm actually improving myself instead of running in place, wasting the freedom I'd just earned myself.

I resolve to stop doing things and going places just because others are egging me. Only do things I have a personal motivation to do.

============================

Mexico. Finally. This is what I really want - a destination where I can live on my own time and chill the fuck out. Somewhere where I can dispense with all the faffery of figuring out logistics and just start hammering away on my objectives.

I start sleeping better and eating better, and begin meditating for 2+ hours each day. But I'm still feeling rather depressed and unmotivated to actually do anything. I notice my lack of motivation and am unhappy with it. Am I not letting my life slip away, after I fought so hard to gain my freedom? On the other hand, what is freedom if I must constantly browbeat myself into action?

I chalk up part of my malaise to just pure exhaustion. The accumulated fatigue of stress for so many years. I've noticed this before in myself - when a constant pressure in some way is released, my brain feels safe enough to give me the full brunt of the pain. When I drink too much and don't sleep, I get sick when I sober up. When I work too much and am stressed, I get a kink in my back once the work is done. When I've been overtraining, my joints ache harder when I back off. Here, perhaps, it is the same. I've been suppressing this malaise for years, since my mind and body knew I still had work yet to complete. Now in the lull, it puts me on my ass to force recovery.

It is also, perhaps, the depression which comes on after the accomplishment of a large goal. Without such an important task to focus on, my life has less meaning and motivation. And without needing to carve out time for other things, those other things are similarly less appealing.

But in a bigger picture, I think the root here is deeper. I have, all my life, been driven by the stick. And, defiant little shit that I am, I was often struck by it. My life has been defined by running away from my beatings, or else by taking them, transforming the pain into rage, and the rage into action. The carrot, on the other hand, has played a relatively small role in my motivation. Surely this is part just human nature - evolution ensures we will always be more motivated by pain than pleasure. But for me now, I have removed most of the sticks in my life, and thus have removed my motivation for action. I could, of course, simply create more sticks... But this seems silly, and would likely make me roll my eyes in frustration with myself - not only would I feel the thumb screws tightening, but I would know that it is only myself doing it.

And besides that, I am tired of this kind of motivation. I think think I've written about this before, so pardon my winging - but I want to be more motivated by the potential to have more positive emotions, rather than by trying to avoid negative ones.

And so, after my trip to Puerto Rico, I wrote a journal entry, where I noted that what I really wanted to do with my life now that I was retired was to stop living in fear, and I outlined 4 insecurities which held me back the most.

- Social Insecurity, which I broke down into 4 subcategories:
-- Meeting people - in any given situation, just walking up and saying hello and starting a conversation.
-- Being unfiltered - saying what I feel at any given time, including angers, frustrations, insecurities, or ambitions.
-- Nonverbal expression - the way I dress or present myself, dancing.
-- Sexuality - talking about sex, sexual desires, and sexual experiences with other people.
- Physical Insecurity, which is mostly about fear of physical pain due to the many overuse injuries I have had - most of which I now believe to have been mostly psychosomatic.
- Financial Insecurity - even though I am retired and have a good safety net, I still am constantly anxious about finances and running out of money. True financial security would come from feeling like I could quickly and easily find tolerable work that I could use to weather any potential financial hardship.
- Sexual Insecurity - I'm still always very nervous on first dates from online, and nervous making moves. I'm worried about my future as I get older, and the potential of missing out while I have the chance now. And I'm still terrified of making moves on women who I haven't matched with online (since online lets me break the expressing-sexual-interest barrier without being face to face).

Of course, wanting to be free from these insecurities poses an interesting question - am I still running away? Is this just another manifestation of escaping the stick? Maybe... But it seems obvious enough that it is probably worth pursuing purely for the experience.
 
Svadhishthana said:
And besides that, I am tired of this kind of motivation. I think think I've written about this before, so pardon my winging - but I want to be more motivated by the potential to have more positive emotions, rather than by trying to avoid negative ones.

Not to be Debby Downer, but I'm not sure this is actually within the real of possible for most people. Maybe there are some ascended humans that are capable of this.

Speaking for myself: Both negative and positive reinforcement > negative reinforcement > positive reinforcement

The only positive reinforcement only method that really gets me moving is Momentum. Building it and maintaining it, creating streaks, getting off on the streaks in a nerdy way. Still don't think it compares to negative reinforcement though..
 
You’re in a funk like I was.

Motivation>habits. Reinforcements, failures, “successes” are all self demonizing no matter how you swing it.

I prefer the grind, taking baby steps and if there was a book that I know will address what you are facing it is “The Slight Edge”, by Jeff Olson.

KYIL podcasts most recent two are also relevant.

When you’re older like we are. A lot of things are more difficult to come by. Sometimes you need to move, get more involved with the one your married to or your base instinct and touch base with those who matter. Like your parents.

Be kind to others and be kind to yourself. I’m 50+ and squat 215. I’m getting ready to start rock climbing and I MTB when I get the chance. Get out there and get out of your head. I’ve no business in the gym looking the way I do, I’m at the level of an autist given the hits I’ve taken.

What is your goal five years from now? How are you planning to attain that goal post? Ravi asked me that question, btw.

You need an arc like Francis Ngannou and not Tony Hsieh.

I would add stop drinking. Eating crap. I would read some of the articles on Kyil Andy mentions using LSD. That’s not what I used but it worked wonders.

Take it one step at a time. Get therapy if you think it’ll help. It’s a numbers game no matter how you look at it with friendships and honestly I had to really put myself out there and now have only 1 dude that is my confidante. Out of hundreds.

For what it’s worth.
 
Zug said:
Not to be Debby Downer, but I'm not sure this is actually within the real of possible for most people.

What's the point of living if you don't think you can do the impossible?

But more seriously - I think that actual potential motivation levels will always be maximized by pain. No matter how fast you might run for fortune and glory, you'll run faster with a grizzly bear on your heels.

But I'm talking about something different. I'm talking about getting my brain to think "get out of bed because there's so much kickass shit to do today! The world is full of important lessons and growth and new experiences" instead of "get out of bed you lazy piece of shit - you need to take care of shit or your whole life will collapse and you'll go to your grave regretting every decision you ever made." And I mean, I kind of really hope that is possible, and it seems a lot healthier in the long run. So... imma give it a shot.

Wnyhg Lots of suggestions in there, and I appreciate them. I'll start looking into a few of them. But I have a lot rattling around in my head first that I want to get out before diving into them.
 
Part 2: During and After

I wake up late, and make myself a pot of coffee and a protein shake to wake up, and sit in the morning sunlight slowly sipping my concoction, brooding slightly about how I probably should have put on sunscreen before sitting in the sun like this - at my age, it is time to start taking skin care seriously... but my sunscreen is 100 feet away, and my coffee is here in front of me right now. I walk to the bathroom and take a shit, prolonged by doing the crossword, then head over to my car. I put on sunscreen finally, grab my meditation blanket, and walk into the jungle away from camp to find my meditation spot. It's a good day - the sun is shining down, and I take off my shirt before setting the timer on my phone for an hour and closing my eyes. After an hour of feeling my body make micro adjustments, feeling the wind on my skin, noticing mosquitos landing on my cheeks and focusing on the supreme irritation of itches I choose not to scratch, my alarm goes off. I check that I have received no urgent messages, reverse my cross legged posture, then set the timer again and close my eyes.

After 2 hours, I feel a strange feeling. A bit like after a good workout... but with my brain. I feel good, but drained and tired, so I go to my car and lay down in bed. But after so long not thinking, my brain is charged for it, and so napping or resting won't do, and I end up jerking off instead. Now feeling bad that it is so late and that I have accomplished so little, I get a kettlebell workout in - Its been a while since I've trained with kettlebells, and my progress is rapid and linear, which makes me happy. A bit tired after the workout, I go to cook breakfast.... at 1pm. After an hour of cooking and eating, I figure I should actually go out and climb something. After all, climbing is what I'm *supposed* to be here for. At this point, everyone has already paired up and headed for the crag. But I know how to handle this. I sling my pack on my back - rope, draws, water, harness, headlamp - and hike into the canyon alone. Every climber I pass, I say hello, and ask if I can join them or get a belay, and eventually someone smiles at my awkward forwardness and tells me that they are actually in a team of three and would love a fourth.

I get one, two, maybe three pitches in, and head back to camp. I hit up my friend M from back home, who is camping and climbing down here with me, and see about dinner. We cook up some good meat from the carnicería, some veggies, and fresh tortillas. He sprays me down about the climbs he did that day - he's always climbing the hard shit. Strikes up friendly conversations with his new friends around camp who are also projecting the hard shit. We crack some beers and he asks me "so what'd you get on today"? I tell him about the small volume of moderate routes I ran up, and he gives me shit. "Dude, when are you gonna stop fucking around on this easy shit? You said you wanna send Conflict this season - go fucking pull on it!" I brush aside his admonitions - I'm building a base, I say. Nevermind that I've just been sitting on my ass most of the day instead of actually doing anything.

I go to bed early, telling myself I value my sleep. But more often than not, I pull up Netflix or some other such nonsense. I wake up the next morning feeling tired and kind of shitty, wondering - what am I doing? If I am actually trying to relax and rest, then I should relax and rest: stop drinking, stop pushing hard physically, go to bed early, spend even more time meditating. And if I am trying to build and push myself, then I should do that - wake up early, knock out all my chores and grooming and life maintenance, have goals and checklists and schedules. But for some reason I'm wallowing in the middle. Maybe that's okay? For now? How long is now going to be? What day is it... I swear I've done this before.

================================

It's the first party of the season. A friend of mine in the community is paying for his camping at our rival campground by periodically being a DJ there. I suit up, grooming myself as well as I can in the hopes that I can snag a girl, and M and I walk through the arroyo to the other camp. I'm trying not to drink tonight. Half trying to use tonight as an opportunity to push against my social anxiety - meeting people, dancing, hitting on girls. But then I wonder if trying too hard is the wrong path, and if instead I should just show up and try to have fun.

I talk to some people. Meet some new people, though I can never remember names. Both M and I start talking to the same hot girl. She has a collection of thin line tattoos up and down her arms and works as the director of a nomadic elementary school for wealthy digital nomad parents. She seems interested in both of us...

This has happened before to M and I. He's the best role model for game I have in real life. He's certainly read some of the literature, but it seems like he comes by most of his game honestly - he's a natural who intentionally works his weaknesses. When we go for the same girl, he usually wins out, since he's more charismatic, more confident, has more of a bad boy vibe, and just plain has more experience with women. It's a real testament to the potential of having good game and how much improving yourself can work for you - since the only way I can win out over him is by brute force. He's about 5'7", while I'm 6'3". I can get girls despite being awkward as fuck because I'm tall. He's gotta work for it. The way I see it, competing with him for a girl is the best thing I can possibly do, since in the likely event that I lose the girl, I at least get to watch a master at work.

The girl we're currently chatting up has about 2" on him. But he's gradually winning her over. Probably because he's relaxed and doesn't give a fuck, while I'm all up in my head. Dancing starts, we have a good time. I actually don't feel too nervous tonight, and push my comfort zone a bit. Ink girl waves to another cute friend of hers who comes over - she's a climbing guide from Maine, down here for the season to save money. She takes a shine to me, so I leave M to the inked girl, and start chatting up the guide. We eventually go outside, go to her tent, smoke a joint... But I bitch out and only make a halfhearted attempt to escalate, before calling it a night and walking home empty handed. M, on the other hand, spent the night.

==============================

The season continues on in this vein. Indecisive, I fail to send much, and also fail to pull at all. Mainly I'm pleased with my progress meditating and lifting. I feel my attention sharpening up in my sits day by day. Meanwhile, I progress to using the 24kg kettlebell for all my swings and get ups. Occasionally there is a party, and I push myself to hit the dance floor and talk to people no matter how awkward I feel. I try to be proactive about walking up to strangers in camp and starting conversations. I'm hammering away at Duolingo each day, and look for opportunities to practice my spanish with the locals. A malaise, perhaps... but a somewhat productive one.

M, on the other hand, is killing it. He sends his first 5.13a - just one grade short of being a true hard man. And word on the street is that two ladies from our rival camp are conspiring to give him a 3-some blowjob. Somehow, he seems to be good friends with every cool person who shows up instantly. I'm a bit jealous, but it's hard to be pissed at him since he's always a good friend to me, too.

================================

Forecast is calling for a heat wave. No bueno para los escaladores. Heat makes you sweat, and sweat on your fingertips reduces friction with the rock. While the truly hardcore and those with deadlines will endure the poor conditions, we resident gringos feel no need to punish ourselves climbing in the heat.

But the crew at our rival camp comes up with a novel idea. One of the crags has a bunch of barbeque pits at the base. Why not have a cook out and a party in the evening, and get some pitches in when it is cooler after the sun sets?

M heads over earlier, bringing marg ingredients. I head over an hour later after snagging some chicken to throw on the grill from the carnicería. When I show up, the party is already starting to heat up. A shit ton of meat on the grill and a giant bowl of guac. A bonfire going. Music pumping from a Bluetooth speaker. I make myself a marg and throw my chicken on the fire and start to mingle, feeling good. I chat with one of the first ascentionists in the area, angling for him to show me how to establish new routes. Talk with some old friends. Meet some new people and spray them with beta. Introduce myself to a few cute girls. It gets properly dark and someone gets out a portable disco ball, starting the dance party. I jam for a few songs, then sit down on the blankets where M and his polyamorous camp crush, K, are hanging with a few others. I hang long enough to catch my breath, then go to make myself another marg.

The party goes on like this for a while. I get sucked into a discussion about gender expectations and politics with a female-presenting enby, and we're enjoying discussing the finer points when I hear someone scream from the other end of the crag.

NO! NO!

I hear a loud, dull thud, and the scream changes.

CALL 911! SOMEONE CALL 911!

I sprint over to see what I can do, and am stopped in my tracks when my headlamp falls on a climber spread eagle on the ground. There is blood trickling down his forehead, and his skin is pasty. His eyes are open and glassy, and his breaths are rough and shallow. His face looks kind of familiar. I freeze. My WFR cert is about 10 years out of date. I'm trying to remember what I'm supposed to do first, when several others arrive, clearly more up to date on their emergency medicine. I try to be as helpful as possible by getting out of their way and working on crowd management, telling others at the party to pack it up and leave if they aren't EMS trained. We start gathering supplies to make an impromptu litter in case we need to carry the victim to the road. I look over at the victim, where the other first responders are performing CPR, and notice he has a familiar knee tattoo. I think I must have seen this guy walking around camp at some point...

I'm waiting at the ready to join a litter team if needed when M's camp crush wanders over to the scene crying hysterically. I go over to her to get her out of the area - being hysterical isn't going to help anyone here. I wonder why M isn't with her as I hug her and lead her away, listening to her crying, when it clicks. My friend M is the climber on the ground, on the edge of death. I didn't recognize him because I didn't believe it. Things like this don't happen to people I know.

My adrenaline spikes, but I stay focused. I give K to some other climbers and tell them to get her away from the scene. I return and stand ready, out of the way but primed to do whatever was needed as I watched my friend fight for his life. The first responders are cycling through people to give CPR, and I jump in, performing chest compressions when another climber tags out. I focus on pushing to proper depth, and keeping rhythm as the other first responders sing Staying Alive. I watch his face, hoping to see any sign of life, and talk to him like so many times before when I held his rope on a hard lead. "C'mon, M. C'mon. You can do it. C'mon M. C'mon M." I keep going until someone tells me to tag out. I step back, and watch as another keeps the compressions going. I stand and watch, silently encouraging my friend to keep going.

An ambulance arrives later. How much later, I have no idea - but far too late for my taste. The EMT arrives at the scene and asks a few questions to the most senior first responder at the scene. He quickly takes some vitals, before taking a clipboard out of his bag and declaring my friend dead. Gravity seems to double on me. My adrenaline is still pumping. A list of things to do now gradually unfolds. We need contact info for his family. I need to answer some questions for the EMT. As the person who knew him best here, I would need to wait for the coroner to arrive from the big city an hour away - and on a Mexican schedule, that would take several hours. I go out to the road, where the last few climbers - mostly the experienced first responders and fluent Spanish speakers - are discussing what to do now. I have my marching orders - wait for the coroner.

I make a quick trip back to camp to get my car, and drive it up to the crag. I break out my jet boil, and make a pot of coffee. It is just K and I now, waiting together on a cool Mexican night. We sip the coffee together, sitting next to each other on the sidewalk. Sometimes talking. Sometimes hugging as she cries. But mostly just staring into the darkness silently.

The coroner arrives in the wee hours of the morning, and we give our statements. We keep our vigil until the officials load the body into a van and drive away.

I return to camp and retrieve my phone from the wall charger I'd left it on hours ago. I see the torrent of messages on it, and return to my car, dreading what I know I have to do. Sitting alone in my bed, I hesitate for a moment. I could put it off. Lay down. Try to sleep a bit. But I know it's not right to them to put this off for any longer. I pick out most recent Facebook message I got and start a call to M's family. They pick up immediately. They want to know if it is true, and I tell them, yeah, it's true. I was there. I'd maintained my composure the whole night, but as I recounted what happened that night to his family on the phone, I couldn't keep it together anymore and I started bawling. I'm sure they could only understand half of what I said while I tried to keep talking as I cried. When I hung up, I looked out the windows of my car and saw the sun had risen.

==============================

The good thing about having your friend die in Mexico is that nothing is easy. I spent the next few days coordinating with others to help his family to figure out what to do. How exactly does one repatriate a body? K and I searched every nook and cranny of his car for any illicit drugs that would give his family trouble at the border. Friends of M and I's rushed down from Denver to help me and his family, and together with other resident climbers we managed to help his family find a place to stay and navigate the mexican bureaucracy. We organized and staged a ceremony of remembrance, assisted by many of the local people and businesses. In the same week we organized an absolute rager of a party for him at one of his favorite restaurants. And each night, myself and all his close friends would gather around the camp chair he left outside his car and pound his favorite Mexican beer, or snort the ketamine he left behind.

Lots of crying and hugging, but always busy. Always something to do, and always someone to do it with. Thank God.

After a week, his family returned home. Our mutual friends also. And people asked me, as the friend of M, if I was going home too. I told them if I'm gonna be sad, I'd rather be warm and sad in Mexico than cold and sad in Denver.

But the real reason was that I had unfinished business. Because M had been right - I'd just spent the whole season fucking around, instead of actually trying and putting down some hard shit. I spent my remaining time taking down one hard route after another - drawing blood, making my elbows hurt, getting scared and taking big falls, and eventually clipping the chains on all the routes I'd told him I was going to send that season.

=============================

Back in Denver, we gave M one final send off. We had ceremony hosted by the climbing gym he worked at. At least 100 people attended - family, childhood friends, other climbers, skaters, his soccer team, former coworkers, and probably a couple lovers. And then we followed that with a little reception at one of my friend's houses - a reception complete with a nails hard climbing wall, heavy drinking, belting out karaoke, a mosh pit, vomiting in the back yard, and streaking down the street. A proper send off.

I loved that kid. And I miss him already.

===========================

One of the hardest things about all this is that I feel like I should be, in some way, changed by what happened. But I feel about the same. I was sad for a while and cried a lot. But now I'm feeling pretty alright. And the goals I had before are still the goals I have now. Because if I were to honor my friend's memory in the way I live, it would be like this - run towards fear, climb cool shit, fuck hot bitches, and have lots of fun.

Well alright, let's do it. But how?
 
Thats sounds like quite an experience. Life is snatched away in an instant, every day. All their hopes, dreams, plans and goals disappears with that person also. Its up to you to carry the torch and fulfill your goals as he would have wanted you to. But also be grateful youve been gifted the time, and ability, to do them. It could all be over in a flash. Condolences about your friend.
 
I'm sorry for your loss man. I'm glad to see you're still pushing through and doing the things that you care about. Your friend would be proud of you.
 
I worked as a hospitalist before I retired. I must have pronounced hundreds of people and coded just as many. I’ve intubated people who crashed and were on the floor and those who threw an embolus right in front of me. It’s a sight to see someone turn blue and then red from the feet up the legs and arms.

The one I can’t get out of my head was an old lady whose husband was outside the door; I already knew they’d been together like 50 years but to be the one to give the news or for the nurse to come in with DNR paperwork, I don’t exactly remember how it happened.

The husband started volunteering at the hospital and obviously I was there all the time, I met him in an elevator and stood next to him and asked,” how are you doing?”. There’s like 7 people behind me looking at me thinking what the fuck and he responds by saying, “ you never get over it, you just learn to cope.” It most definitely shut me up.

Like you I had a close friend, probably closer since we travelled together to the Middle East. He died when I was in my second year of school. I never got a chance to say goodbye or see his body. That dad took a tailspin like I’ve never heard. It’s one reason I can’t be totally charismatic and too close to anyone anymore.

So I’m not going to give advice and I’m not going to provide books or podcasts.
I’m still stuck, you know?

I’m sorry for your loss. You just lost an accountability partner. A friend and a mentor. The perfect mate.

Guess what? You’re it. Go out and make him proud. Let his life lived not be in vain. I would keep close to his family as much as you can. Help them to help yourself or any way you feel positive.

The book I uploaded is only 38 pages. Please read it. If not anything else.
 
Part 3: Going Forward

My alarm clock blares in the darkness, and I awake to the salty smell and sticky humidity of the Aegean Sea. Fighting the urge to roll over in bed and nurse my hangover a bit longer, I stand up, flip the lights on, and put on the kettle to make a strong cup of Turkish coffee. I make one last sweep around the room of the Airbnb I've been staying in, then sling my backpack - small enough to count as a personal item on RyanAir and stuffed to the brim with only my absolute necessities - over my shoulder and walk out the door. M, two other friends, and I walk to the street to greet the taxi. The taxi driver, I can't help but think, seems oddly overdressed. Wearing a three piece suit, an excessive amount of jewelery, and a strong cologne, he looks more like a gangster than a taxi driver on a tropical island. But I guess that's just Greece for you.

We board the ferry as dawn breaks. Short on sleep and caffeine, I'm not very talkative. I stand on the deck and watch Kalymnos disappear behind us. Dolphins play in the ferry's wake as I stare at the horizon at other islands, barely visible through the morning haze. I look down over the railing and imagine what would happen if I fell overboard at this moment - hopefully someone would notice, and they'd pull me back aboard.... but if not, I'd likely tread water for about an hour, teeth chattering, before hypothermia set in.

It was a good trip. But I'm dissatisfied, and I begin to formulate why. I think of how what I really want, now that I have time, is to overcome my personal fears and insecurities. I spend about an hour like this, splitting my time between trying to figure out my life, and internally bemoaning my hangover + no sleep headache.

The ferry arrives on Kos, and the four of us grab our bags and head into the port town, wandering over to a small cafe to feed our caffeine addictions and pass the time before our flights. Facing down travelling half the Earth's circumference in discount airline seats and airport terminals, the conversation turns to book recommendations.

One of my friends makes a recommendation for improving our mental performance in climbing. The book is The Inner Game of Tennis. "All the experts on climbing performance say this is the book to read." He says, "Just, every time it says 'tennis', replace it with 'rock climbing'." We all laugh a bit at this, and I write down the name of the book. I get the audiobook version, and listen to it on the flight, liking what I hear. The book addresses a lot of problems I've had before, and seems to be a guide not just to improving at tennis, but improving at anything. And interestingly, as the book dives deeper and deeper into its philosophy, it becomes clear that this is actually essentially a Taoist treatise on life, viewed through the lense of tennis performance.

By the time I get to Mexico, I've obtained a physical copy so I can mark it up with a pen. It seems like the information I've been looking for, and I read through it twice, taking notes. I intend to try to parse out it's lessons, and then apply them in a few different domains - social anxiety, rock climbing, the daily grind of chores and habits, and the overarching path of living a good life.

By late January, I'd marked up the book and created a rather disorganized summary in my journal, and was intending to refine my summary and then contemplate how to apply the knowledge in my domains. But before I got around to it, I caught a stomach bug that put me on my ass for a week, and then my friends accident happened. But now seems like a good time to start that up again.

===================================

I think a big part of my angst and inaction is feeling like I don't really know what I want, what I should do, or what I should do first. The paradox of choice. The more options we have, the more we second guess ourselves, and the more likely we are to regret our decisions. Even now, I am feeling a sense of aversion writing these words, a desire to put it off and procrastinate, because they have the potential to commit me to a particular course of action. Hence why it has taken me a few days to come back and write this post.

Where do I want to be in 5 years? It's a good question. Where I want to be in 20 is even better. And I’ve written down the answer before. I have a lot of goals. In some ways, too many goals, and they all compete for my time and attention, pulling me in one direction and then the next as my mood strikes, and I am then pulled back again to my ur-goal - action without self flagellation.

And I think, where to start? At the foundations and principles? Or at the most obvious, immediate, simple action? To endlessly chace the immediate is worst than hammering away on principles. But running from one shiney object to the next, at least, is still better than being paralyzed by choice and doing nothing.

So the easiest, simplest, fastest thing to do - make a list of things to do. Even if I never do any of them.

Finish parsing the Inner Game of Tennis and start formally implementing it
Clean and orgainze van (desperately needs it)
Get Timeless Simple
Send M’s projects next year
Revamp OLD and get more lays
AA
Meet up with girls I've been messaging with. (Two in Denver in April, one in Oregon)
Work on insecurities
Establish an effortless routine for taking care of chores and life maintenance in the morning
Meditate more
Learn to play the guitar
Get a rope access cert (friend convinced me it's a great way to supplement my passive income if I feel like being rich)
Hit up friends in Baja and BC
Learn Spanish

So a general timeline for me right now:
The desert until early April
Mid April return to Denver.
Take care of taxes and chores
Meet w/ the two girls
Late April head to Baja
Early May head to Oregon
Late May get rope access training
Winter return to Mexico

Ongoing goals are getting stronger lifting kettlebells and pushing my climbing grade. These things I know how to do and can keep chugging.

Ongoing goals I’m less certain of are tackling my insecurities, learning Spanish, and establishing a good routine. For this, I’ll finish parsing TIGOT and synthesize a plan from there.

While I’m not sure exactly what I’ll end up doing, I think a big part of my goal of action without self flagellation is awareness. Mostly in the moment, but also retrospectively. So I’ll start posting again regularly, so retrospection will spur me to action on a deeper level.

=========================
Yesterday

Met up with K in the desert. The night before I threw all my shit in the van haphazardly in order to make it over Vail Pass before it got socked in. Made a camp out in BLM land to stay for a few days, and spent the day unpacking, cleaning, and organizing. Fixed issues with my heater and my fridge. Got a kettlebell workout in. Other friends arrived later in the night, hung out and drank a bit. Spent time talking with K about polyamory - good because I feel pretty comfortable with her and the subject, and the subject is a lynchpin of a lot of my anxieties.
 
Yesterday

Meditated 5 min, cleaned up some more, made sure to clean myself up in the morning.

With recent rains, climbing was off the table yesterday. Rain in the desert soaks into the porous sandstone, weakening it. Weak rock breaks and crumbles easier, making climbing both more dangerous and more impactful on the rock. So we opt to boulder instead. K is stoked on a boulder that is extremely overhung, protecting it from the rain, so we head there.

Unsurprisingly, others have the same idea, and about a dozen other people are there working moves on the 40' long roof crack. I realize with some apprehension that I am apprehensive of meeting new people at this particular moment - especially since I quickly realize that one of the girls present is a relatively famous Instagram influencer who I'd met years ago before she was famous. I noticed my nervousness, but lack the activation energy to face it or do anything about it. Instead I distract myself by taping up, and stupidly worry about probably the dumbest thing I've ever worried about - if the locals are going to judge me for how I tape my hands. Feeling mildly displeased with myself for my cowardice, I avoid interacting with the people already at the rock and follow my friends around instead, pulling on a few times and having a good time fucking around. After a while I loosen up a bit and say a few sparse words to the others there. One woman, friends with the famous girl, is the director for an international gear company. Reflecting, I'm annoyed that my inhibitions got in the way here - everyone there was quite happy, friendly, and inviting, and my more outgoing friends were easily able to integrate into the group. If I hadn't been so inhibited, I could have simultaneously had a much better day and made some valuable connections in the community.

After bouldering, got a kb workout in and helped my friend fix a leak he got in his oil pan when he yeeted his civic off a rock shelf on the way to the boulder crag that day. JB Weld is magic.

Last night we all hid in a friends van and watched a movie while the snow came down outside. So sounds like absolutely no climbing today. Not such a bad thing - I have quite a few items to take care of on the list above.

But today the chaos resumes. Apparently my Airbnb got 4-5' of snow last night and the county has declared a state of emergency. Time to spend all day finding someone with heavy machinery to come up and dig them out.
 
Another wet day yesterday.

Spent most of it trying to find someone to plow the driveway of my Airbnb. Thought I found someone, but then they flaked. Big headache there. Ended up finding someone else this morning to take care of it for way too much money. This plus the boiler issue I had a few weeks ago is a real kick in the dick.

Stress led me to not be super productive yesterday. Mostly hung out with friends other than organizing the snow plow stuff. But started summarizing TIGOT, and got a kettlebell work out and a hang board workout in.

Since it is still sloppy out there today, I'll be trying to be as productive as possible now that the plow situation is figured out.
 
Another wet day yesterday.

This time spent it organizing a guy to go up and plow my airbnb driveway. Big hassle as he needed to go up, current guests needed to leave, cleaner needed to come in and flip the place, and then the next guests were arriving. Pretty stressful day, but hopefully that whole fucky situation is resolved. When something like this happens, I try to think of a way to prevent it from happening again. Unfortunately, this was something of a natural disaster. The only solution I can think of are things I've thought of in the past - either heating the driveway, which is prohibitively expensive, or flipping the garage into an ADU and having a caretaker live in it. The second option is good for a number of reasons, but would take a lot of time and risk and money to pull off.

Otherwise, almost finished summarizing TIGOT, got a hang board workout in, and meditated. Weather is better today, so looking forward to enjoying it.
 
Yesterday was good. Tried something I'd been thinking of doing for a while - starting the day with a 5 minute meditation session while the water for my coffee boils. It doesn't let me really get deep into a meditative state, but it does set a good tone for the day - when I try not to think, it turns out all I think about is all the things I want to do during the day.

The main chunk of the day was spent in a canyon. All the rain recently meant sloppy roads and mud everywhere, but canyons are a safe romp after heavy rain. So, spent the day scrambling and jumping and rapping down the canyon and occasionally getting scared.

One cute girl I'd met once before showed up late the night before to drop the canyon with us. I noted she was camping alone in a tent in the mud, and started thinking about how my van with a heater and a real bed could be an enticing proposition. The next day I tried a few things - some lingering eye contact, joking around, physical touch - but nothing super forward. And then the main thing I did was look for opportunities to take on leadership roles in the group. By the end of the day I think I was catching some IOIs from her - but logistics were bad. Another friend had gotten a motel room in town to work remotely from - promptly inviting us all over to shower and hot tub; the guy who'd given her a ride and who had all her camping gear had disappeared into the desert on an acid trip; and on the last scramble down to the parking lot, she'd taken a nasty spill and sprained her ankle, so she was limping around on one leg. And to top it off, she's friends with one of the girls who is coming to town in April, and I'm not sure how to navigate that whole social dynamic.

Anyway - a good day of exercise and sunshine and doing something I'm good at where other people rely on me, with some adventurous mishaps to spice it up. And nobody blowing up my phone telling me they are snowed in and running out of food. Kinda my happy place.
 
Good day yesterday. Woke up and got my 5 minutes of meditation in. Worked on summarizing TIGOT some more. Then did a kettlebell workout and a fingerboard workout. Excited about the kettlebell workout, since I did the roll-to-elbow in my TGU for the first time with the 32kg bell, and my program says it is time to move up to start training with it for real now. One more stop to getting Simple.

After, packed up some gear and hopped on my moto to zip over and meet my friends for an afternoon bouldering session. Dry roads and responsibilities taken care of and laying down rubber on slick rock and the La Sal mountains in front of me is a good feeling.

Cute girl showed up when we were at the boulder crag. I sort of did a teasing hello, but didn't engage past that. She had a boyfriend who was out of sight at the time anyway, but I really should have pushed the engagement further.

Then packed up, blasted back to camp. Made a campfire and watched a UFO trace a line across the sky at dusk. Drank a few beers and went to bed at 10:30. I think things are getting better now that the sun is out.
 
Once again listening to Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, and it once again provides me with an answer.

The student's biggest problem was a slave mentality which had been built into him by years of carrot-and- whip grading, a mule mentality which said, "If you don't whip me, I won't work.'' He didn't get whipped. He didn't work. And the cart of civilization, which he supposedly was being trained to pull, was just going to have to creak along a little slower without him.

This is a tragedy, however, only if you presume that the cart of civilization, "the system,'' is pulled by mules. This is a common, vocational, "location'' point of view, but it's not the Church attitude.

The Church attitude is that civilization, or "the system'' or "society'' or whatever you want to call it, is best served not by mules but by free men.

As long as my motivation comes from whipping myself - as long as I have a mule mentality - I can never be free.

Last few days have been quite similar. Wake, meditate while coffee water is boiling. I wish I was dedicating more time to meditating, but some is better than none. Then posting here, Duolingo, summarizing TIGOT. Then working out, breakfast, and going climbing. Then back to camp, hanging out and dinner and beers, then bed.

Finished summarizing TIGOT. Kb workouts progressing well. Last couple days I've only been toproping climbs, but think it is time to start picking up the sharp end again. And my body is protesting - I think I'll help celebrate my friends birthday tonight and then cut back on the drinking.

===========================
Summary of The Inner Game Of Tennis

Within you, there are two selves - Self 1 and Self 2. Self 1 is "I", the ego, the thinking mind. Self 2 is "myself", the body, the intuitive feeling mind.

When you are playing a game (like tennis, for example), there are actually two games being played. The outer game (tennis), and the inner game - your ability to stay relaxed and focused and enter a flow state that allows you to play your best.

How well we play the inner game is determined by the relationship between the two selves. And how well we play the inner game has a big impact on how well we practice and perform in the outer game. Self 2 - the body, the intuitive mind - is far better at performing almost any task spontaneously and adeptly than Self 1. But if Self 1 does not trust and respect Self 2, then it will try to take control of the body, and will clumsily execute actions which would have been trivial for Self 2 to perform. Playing the inner game well consists of Self 1 giving some direction to Self 2, and then trusting Self 2 to perform the task. Meanwhile, Self 1 should concern itself with nonjudgmentally observing, and not interfering.

Being able to play the inner game well is an ur-skill, allowing one to perform at their best in all domains and quickly acquire proficiency in any mundane skill.

The 4 sub skills of inner game are:

1) Letting Go Of Judgements
2) Trusting Self 2
3) Creating Images
4) Relaxed Concentration - the master skill

So, how do we (1) develop these skills, and (2) apply them to both the performance and practice of mundane skills?

1) Developing the Inner Game Skills

1.1) Letting Go Of Judgements

This is the skill of not judging our actions as "good" or "bad", and instead viewing our actions passively and patiently. Letting go of judgement doesn't mean not recognizing errors as errors - instead it means not attaching a moralistic label of badness on them. Instead, it is about observing mistakes and knowing that these are part of the learning process of developing a skill.

It is practiced when we notice ourselves judging our actions or performance as good or bad. Then, we let go of judgement and simply observe our actions as they occur. By being able to fully focus on what we are doing, rather than having our attention divided by moralistic judgement, Self 2 can more rapidly and automatically make adjustments.

So:
- Notice judgement
- Let go of judgement
- Observe - see, feel, hear, etc what *is*
- When describing observations to oneself, use non judgemental language and tone

1.2) Trusting Self 2
Trusting Self 2 is practiced by practicing "letting go". Having a desired action, and then not instructing or trying and just letting it happen.

Simply choose an action to practice, repeat it several times, and observe as Self 2 is gradually able to improve with no formal instruction. As you observe this natural improvement, you will trust and respect Self 2 more, allowing Self 1 to more readily give up control.

Devise experiments for both low stress (practice) and high stress (performance) scenarios to practice letting go and trusting Self 2.

1.3) Creating Images
Creating Images is practiced by imagining changes you want, then allowing Self 2 to try to create them in real life (via Trusting Self 2).

You can practice creating visual images, which is useful for asking Self 2 to give results straight on. You can practice creating "feel-mages" - the physical sensations in your body - which are useful for asking Self 2 to use different form. And you can practice imagining you have a different personality - like you are an actor acting out a role - which is useful for asking Self 2 for to change its overall style of action.

Additionally, this process can be greatly helped by observing desired actions in real life. For example, performing the actions slowly while watching and feeling carefully, watching another person (like a coach, mentor, or friend) perform the action in real life, watching a video of a highly skilled person performing the action, or watching yourself on video performing the action.

1.4) Relaxed Concentration
Relaxed Concentration is practiced by noticing you are distracted, and gently returning your attention to the hear and now. It can be done at any time one is conscious. It is useful to pick something to focus on - a sight, or sound, or feeling. It helps if the thing you are focusing on has constant subtle differences to keep your attention engaged. The key is to let yourself be interested in the object of focus by not presuming you already know what will happen next.

Lapses in concentration occur when the mind would prefer to focus on something other than the present. Usually, the mind is shifting focus to anxiety about the future. In most modern endeavors, these anxieties deal with feelings of self-worth - a feeling that failure will in some way make us unworthy. In challenging moments like these, it is useful to reframe - remember that your real goal is improvement of your internal self. Therefore, facing these challenges and their accompanying anxieties is the whole reason you are engaged in these actions in the first place. Learning the skill of relaxed concentration is the ur-goal, since not only does it improve performance in every endeavor in life, but it is what gives life vividness and meaning - being in the moment.

2) Application of Inner Game Skills to Practice and Performance

2.1) Application to Practice

2.1.1) Discovering Technique

Learning new skills and techniques is best thought of as a process of discovery, since each person might find different things helpful. Inflexible prescriptions for technique usually result in anxiety, tightening up, and suboptimal performance.

To learn a new technique or improve a current one, it is best to watch someone else do it, then imitate with drills. Research or create drills, which also function as experiments for trusting Self 2. Drills are simple, helping you to focus on a single thing, and can be repeated quickly to allow for rapid feedback.

Ask Self 2 for results by creating a vivid mental image of the result desired. For example, to ask for a more powerful tennis serve, imagine the ball arcing quickly and powerfully over the net and into the opponents court.

Ask Self 2 for form by practicing the form slowly, and imagining the feeling of moving with that form. For example, to ask Self 2 to keep the tennis racket level on a forehand, practice slowly moving the racket in the desired path and watching and feeling the racket intently. Then imagine the image of the racket, and the feeling of your body as you want to move.

Ask Self 2 for qualities by play-acting, pretending to be someone with the target quality without concern for results. For example, to learn to play more aggressively, practice hitting balls as if you are an aggressive player - without regard for whether or not you are actually making good shots.

It is useful to consult experts to improve your game, such as reading a book or listening to a coach. However, don't view these instructions as absolutes on the "right" way to do things. Instead, think of them as hints - things to *try* in order to discover your own best technique.

It is useful to watch other people who are more adept than you, either on video or in person. But don't think that how they do something is exactly how you should do it. Instead, simply relax and watch them perform with interest. Allow yourself to focus on whatever is most interesting to you. After watching a performance, try practicing and imitating.

2.1.2) Changing Habits

Changing Habits is about replacing one pattern of behavior with another.

We develop patterns of behavior to serve a function. Any "bad habit" you want to replace with a good habit is serving a function, and it is very hard to break that habit if there is nothing to replace the function it serves. Bad habits with no replacement function are especially likely to recur when under stress, when we have no spare willpower to surpress them. So the first step to breaking a bad habit is to stop suppressing it or berating yourself for doing it, so you can observe and see what function it serves. Once we see the purpose of a bad habit, an alternative pattern of behavior that serves the same purpose can emerge.

2.1.3) The Process of Learning Using Inner Game Techniques

i) Nonjudgemental Observation

It is important to realize that we should not force change. We want to find the thing which is most ready to change, not what Self 1 deems "most important".

Start practicing a skill you would like to improve. Don't try, just start practicing and observing, relaxed. Simply by observing, you might notice changes already occuring - just allow these changes to occur, staying relaxed.

After about 5 minutes, you should have an idea of what you would like to change. Practice a bit more, without trying, observing this thing.

ii) Picture the Desired Outcome

Create an image of your desired result.

iii) Trust Self 2

Let go, and allow Self 2 to act.

If after a short while, Self 2 is not making the change, return to step (i), finding a different change to make - ask yourself what is inhibiting the desired change. First ask Self 2 for results, then if results don't occur, try asking for form.

iv) Nonjudgemental Observation of Change and Results

As you observe changes in your action, remain detached from actual results - performance may dip while the change is taking place. For example, while developing a more powerful serve, accuracy may drop. Keep going, remaining patient and attentive, while performance catches up. While doing this, you will often notice other things you want to change.

v) Watch Out For Self 1

After doing these things and seeing results, watch out for Self 1 coming back to take credit and give instructions for what Self 2 discovered. Give Self 2 the credit for what it discovered, and allow it to keep doing it without interference.

2.2) Application to Performance

In performance, it is typically only useful to use the 4th skill of Relaxed Concentration. Not Judging, Trusting Self 2, and Creating Images might also come into play naturally, but the focus should be on keeping Relaxed Concentration.

During performance, pick something subtle and important and interesting to focus on, and stick with it for the duration of the performance, bringing focus back each time it wanders. Focus might be wide or narrow, but it is best to keep it targeted at the same thing, rather than switching as the mood strikes.

During breaks in performance, focusing on the breath to prevent mind wandering can be useful.

3) Further Notes
3.1) It seems quite obvious that practicing relaxed concentration in its purest form is simply meditation. And the broad and narrow foci described in the book map quite directly to the gradual focus of attention from all immediate sensations to the sensation of breath passing over the tips of the nostrils described in The Mind Illuminated. So dedicated meditation time seems useful. Additionally, it might be useful to carve out additional meditation time spent on the skills of Nonjudgemental awareness, trusting the body, and creating images. Finally, it is interesting to note that TIGOT explicitly states that relaxed concentration can be practiced at any time, while in parallel, The Mind Illuminated states that progression in a meditation practice will always be slow and halting of the practitioner fails to apply a meditative mind to their day to day life.

3.2) Creating Images is quite an interesting concept. These days, I think we would call it Visualization, a ubiquitous technique in sport. It could also be compared to the technique of "manifesting" advocated for by the woo crowd. Creating and acting out an imagined personality seems especially interesting - it is a "fake it til you make it" technique without the fakeness. It reminds me of Castenada's technique of lying to yourself, not to recreate your self image in the image of the lies, but to realize that your current self image is equally fictitious.

3.3) Deep in the philosophy part of the book, the author goes on a tangent about self worth. He notes that our culture assigns worth based on achievement, and argues that such a culture demeans the human spirit, which cannot have its worth defined. He notes that true confidence emerges when the individual realizes that their worth is intrinsic, rather than deriving from achievement. However, I am highly suspicious of this argument, as it sounds like the arguments for self esteem and participation trophies. Sure, the metaphysical value of a human is immeasurable. But it is patiently obvious that both individuals and society assign value to individuals based on their utility. Denile of this fact either results in disillusionment when the falsehood is discovered, or conceited delusions of grandure and entitled attitudes. And a failure to provide utility to others, then, will inevitably result in others failing to provide utility to us, depriving us of basic needs.

This pushes the argument into an even more important realm - this idea of trusting Self 2 to make mistakes and learn is all well and good in games like tennis, where failure might simply result in a feeling of disappointment or inadequacy. But how would one use this technique in situations where results actually matter, where life and death are on the line? I plan on re-reading The Rock Warriors Way for an opinion on this.

3.4) Other Works To Read
- Zen In the Art of Archery
- Abraham Maslow
- Games People Play by Eric Berne
- Carl Rogers
 
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